John is the type of guy who lives in the right house, drives the right car, wears the right clothes, and always laughs at your jokes whether funny or not—good to have a friend like that.

Oh yeah, one more thing, he’s thin.

We were out on Saturday doing all the things you can’t do in Dothan, Alabama. Like, getting a sprayed-on suntan, having a cup of Starbuck’s coffee, watching a man dressed as a drum majorette twirling a baton at the corner of Piedmont and Monroe; but I digress.

The afternoon was approaching three o’clock when John said from behind the steering wheel of his Mercedes, “I forgot lunch, are you hungry?”

This question was like a message from beyond. All these years I’ve been wondering why I can’t lose weight and my friends seem to be faithfully thin.

I can sum it all up in one sentence:

I DON’T FORGET TO EAT.

Unbeknownst to John, not only had I not forgotten lunch, I had been planning the blessed event since breakfast. Yes, I had gone over it a million times in my brain planning what sorts of cuisines we could choose. I knew from experience, he’d spring the lunch question at the last minute and I needed to be prepared with choices like Italian, Mexican or just plain Southern. A guy like me can’t be trusted with a snap decision about a meal; we only get three of them in a day.

But to forget lunch altogether? The concept is as foreign to me as men’s clothes are to that majorette.

Where did I go wrong? I’ve reviewed the details of my life to determine at what point I became obsessed with this eating habit. The only result I can come up with is that no one in my family ever forgot to eat. I come from a huge family even though there are just a few of us who haven’t already “passed away” because of high cholesterol—but eating is a joyous time for the ones of us that are left. We begin thinking about new recipes for Thanksgiving in about the July timeframe. And we know what we’re having for supper before the lunch dishes are cleared.

Forget about fad diets; forget about food exchanges, calories and carbs. I have an announcement for America—you won’t be thin unless you forget to eat!

So, how do you forget?

I’ve been trying to forget ever since I got back from Atlanta, but so far I’ve been a failure. Every time I attempt to forget eating, I see a billboard, television commercial or hear a radio ad about new undiscovered delicacies I haven't even tried. The choices are limitless and my will to eat everything before it kills me is far too great.

There was only once in my life when I was successful in losing unwanted pounds. This was after my trip south of the border when I picked up a nasty little bug living in the ice cubes of my coke—so my doctor says.

That little bug kept me running between the water closet and my bed for three days. I lost 10 pounds -- and during most of that time it never occurred to me to eat. I can only conclude that thin people must have this sick feeling all the time that keeps food far from their minds. If they only knew how great we fat people feel, they’d schedule their meals a week in advance just like we do.

I’d go on with this column, but the bell just rang on the microwave oven. My popcorn with extra butter is ready to eat; that’ll hold me to supper when we’re having country-fried steak, mashed potatoes, green beans, biscuits, and sweet potato pie for dessert.

I think it's time for another trip to Mexico.

Y'all come!

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