I Tried Dr. Oz's Health Cleanse Program, But The Only Thing I Cleaned Out Was My Fridge

This past weekend, I tried Dr. Oz's three-day cleanse, which consists of eating four healthy shakes a day. This detox program is supposed to clean out your system, but the only thing I cleaned out was my fridge, eating everything in sight. Here's why:  

This cleanse basically amounts to going on a liquid diet for three days, drinking homemade shakes consisting of fruits, vegetables and items found in the health food section of the grocery store like coconut oil and flaxseeds. Instead of three days, I decided to do just two, which sounds fairly easy, right?

The problem is that any liquid diet requires an enormous amount of discipline and self-control. It's not exactly exciting to wake up in the morning and realize, "Instead of bacon and eggs, I get to have a shake made out of celery, kale and cucumbers!"

Rather than follow Dr. Oz's detox program to the tee, I "cheated" and ate more than I would have otherwise. The reason I ended up overeating on this detox program is the same reason why some people end up gaining weight when they switch to a vegetarian diet: you overeat to compensate for feeling deprived of "real" food.

The health shakes on Dr. Oz's detox program actually taste pretty good and are surprisingly filling, since they contain a lot of whole foods - a whole banana, a whole cucumber, four big celery stalks, et cetera. But in order to prevent feeling hungry while on the program, in addition to the shakes, I also ate several slices of bread slathered with almond butter and a whole carton of hummus, with chips for dipping. And that was just on Saturday.

Sunday was the day when I really went off the rails. It probably wasn't a good idea to go on this detox program while working on a big writing project (read my most recent post about the book-in-progress on the legendary All Jokes Aside comedy club by clicking this link: http://chrisbournea.blogspot.com/2014/09/all-jokes-journal-avoiding-predictable.html). I justified going off the detox program and eating a lot of bread, a protein bar, a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich and black bean soup because I was expending so much energy throughout the writing process.  

So, basically, instead of the liquid diet that Dr. Oz's detox program outlines, I just went vegetarian for two days, supplementing the health shakes with extra snacks and meatless meals.

In addition to self-control, Dr. Oz's detox program also takes a lot of planning. In order to stick to the program, you have to either decline lunch or dinner invitations or have your health shake before or after you meet up with friends and family. Or, you could take your shake with you to the restaurant where you're meeting up and explain that you can't eat solid food because you're cleansing your body - and hopefully your mind and spirit along with it.

Would I do Dr. Oz's detox program again? Yes and no. I'll take parts of the program and adjust them to a more sensible way of eating. Maybe I'll set aside a day to go vegetarian and use one or two of the shakes as a healthy snack or as meal replacements for breakfast or lunch. 

Unless you're going to move to a Buddhist monastery or check yourself into a remote resort where everyone is "detoxing" and doing yoga, sticking to a liquid diet is about as realistic as deciding to live off a feeding tube.

The Perils of Social Media - It's All A Mystery

The mystery of why friends, family, co-workers and acquaintances respond or don't respond to certain posts on social media - Facebook, in particular - will probably never be solved.

The random nature of Facebook and other social media is often dumbfounding. I write what I think is a thought-provoking blog entry and post a link on Facebook, and there's no response. But I log on in the wee hours of the morning when I think no one else is up yet and change my profile picture, and there are a gazillion comments. Go, figure.

I recently came across an article by Miriam Kagan, a fundraiser for nonprofit organizations, that sums up how many of us feel when we hear the sound of crickets after posting something on Facebook.

In her article, titled "Why don't my friends like me on Facebook?" Kagan explains:

"Lately, I've noticed an interesting trend: I post something on Facebook that I think is fascinating, hilarious, or some deep revelation into the mysterious world of Miriam Kagan, and my social sphere reacts... in dead silence.

"Failed in my effort to get instant gratification at my own personal awesomeness through likes and comments, I am subsequently delighted and confused by friends who say things like 'your Facebook status the other day made me laugh out loud' or 'you know, it seems from your Facebook posts that your coworkers are really funny' a few days later, when say we are having coffee.

"My inner social addict silently pouts - 'if you liked my status so much, why didn't you 'like' it and show the rest of my social universe how awesome you think I am?'"

Kagan really captures how many of us feel, or at least how I often feel, when I invest a lot of time, energy and emotional equity (the psychological version of "sweat equity") in crafting a post that I hope will spark a dialogue with Facebook friends, but no one says anything. (Read Kagan's full article at this link: http://www.connectioncafe.com/posts/2012/08-august/why-dont-my-friends-like-me.html)

Here are a few theories as to why some Facebook friends remain silent, and some counter-arguments as to why we will never know why people react (or don't react) the way they do:

Nobody likes homework. I'm as guilty as the next guy, or gal, in not clicking links or reading lengthy posts because I often only have limited time to browse Facebook and I'm not in the mood to "read" or do anything that feels like "homework." I just want to be a passive browser.

Why this argument doesn't make sense: If something really grabs my attention, it doesn't matter how long it is, I'll make the time to read it all the way through.

Some people like to remain anonymous. Some Facebook friends really don't like attention; they just like to see what other people are up to. They may be afraid that if they like or comment on a post, they'll get sucked into a long, drawn-out conversation that they either don't have time for or just don't feel like taking part in.

Why this argument doesn't make sense: Many "silent creepers" will comment on major life events, such as weddings, new jobs, relocations to new cities, et cetera. So maybe they just don't want to get bogged down in everyday, mundane stuff or philosophical arguments.

I can understand not wanting to get caught up in controversial topics like politics, religion or racial issues, but why people don't comment on perfectly harmless items like pop-culture trivia is beyond me.

In-person contact is preferred. Rather than comment on or "like" something they see on Facebook, some people would rather wait until they see that person face to face or talk to him or her on the phone to catch up.

Why this argument doesn't make sense: If interacting online is so impersonal and off-putting, why be on Facebook in the first place?!  

Who knows why the "silent majority" stay silent? Like the lyrics of the classic song "Life Is Just a Bowl of Cherries": "You musn't take it serious/it's much too mysterious..."

This is the second in a series of blog posts about the perils of social media. I had originally conceived this series as being all about the pitfalls of using social media for self-promotion, but it's a topic with so many layers, I decided to expand it.

In my next post on this topic, which I plan to publish on Monday, October 13, I'll explore social media etiquette, and why there is no such thing.  

The Perils Of Using Personal Social Media For Self-Promotion - Don't Take It Personal

                                

 

I recently attended a very interesting seminar in which presenters discussed the most effective ways to use social media.

One presenter spoke about how her organization uses analytic tools to determine which posts received the most hits. These tools, such as Facebook's "Insights" tool, can help users to determine if they're reaching their target audience by showing the gender, age, location and other demographics of those who "Like" and "Follow" a page.

I think these tools are fine to use if you're a business, a nonprofit organization or a government agency that must get your message out to certain constituents in order to do your job.

However, using these tools may be problematic if you're an individual. For example, I'm a writer and I sometimes use Facebook to let friends and family know about projects I'm working on, such as a play I recently did that I wanted to invite everyone to. I have other friends who are musicians, visual artists and other creative types who also use Facebook to get the word out about upcoming concerts, exhibits, etc.

But what if I started using Facebook's "Insight" tools to determine which of my posts generated the most interest and started tailoring my posts to subject matter that would get the most hits? While it's okay for a business to use such a strategy to reach customers, I think that seems a bit creepy and manipulative for an individual to do that with friends and family.

Of course, creative types can create professional Facebook fanpages that are designed specifically to reach those who are interested in their work. But unless you're an established public figure with a built-in audience like John Grisham or Tyler Perry, it's hard to segregate your personal and professional lives. When you're a creative type trying to build an audience, oftentimes the first place you start is with friends and family to try to get buzz going. 

To sum up: it's perfectly legitimate for a business or an organization to use tools at their disposal to target customers on social media. But when you're an individual, the personal and professional are often one and the same and using these tools, like Robin Thicke said in his monster hit song, is a blurred line.

This is the first in a series of posts about "The Perils of Using Personal Social Media for Self-Promotion." I'd love to hear your thoughts, and I welcome all comments and questions to this post.

Let's have a dialogue. After all, isn't that what social media is for?

Serving For One, Please

Totally random observation: who decides which foods are available in single servings, while we consumers are forced to buy everything else in a big ol' vat?

Case in point: the other day I was craving a good, old-fashioned peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich. After a long, stressful day, I didn't feel like making a full, balanced dinner and just wanted throw together something quick and easy.

So on the way home from work, I stopped by my neighborhood grocery store. I just wanted a single serving of peanut butter. Not only because I just wanted one sandwich, but because peanut butter is one of my weaknesses. In fact, it's like crack. I can empty a whole jar of peanut butter in just a few sittings - standings, is more like it, since I often shovel it into my mouth while hovering in my kitchen in a trance-like state.

 

Although Jiffy make single servings of peanut butter, you have to buy these packets by the case. And grocery stores don't carry those single servings of jelly like the ones you see at restaurants like Bob Evans and Cracker Barrel.

Luckily, many grocery stores do carry single-serving packets of almond butter. So I picked up one of those. For the jelly to complete my sandwich, I decided to substitute agave nectar. I figured this would "kill two birds with one stone," so to speak, since I could use the agave nectar to spread over the peanut butter and use what was left over as a healthy sweetener for tea and oatmeal.

I looked for a small bottle of agave nectar, like those tiny little squeeze bottles of honey, but the only ones I could find are industrial-size helpings of agave nectar. (Okay, maybe "industrial size" is a bit of an exaggeration.) 

Maybe it's not cost-effective for manufacturers to make certain foods in single servings. For example, you can buy a pre-made sandwich at a grocery store deli, but you can't buy two pieces of bread instead of a whole loaf. Who decides this?

A savvy marketer could make a fortune by introducing a line of single-serving food products aimed at single people, those who are always on the go and health-conscious consumers who are trying to control portions and watch their waistlines. I'd love to whizz by the frozen food section and pick up a package with just two slices of bread that I could take home and pop in the toaster or microwave to make a quick sandwich.

And if a fast-food chain had the foresight to start offering peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches, even if it was just on the kid's menu, they would attract many customers. Including me.  

Some Like It Hot - Very Hot

I recently visited Casa Sazon, an excellent Latin restaurant near my office in downtown Columbus, Ohio (check them out on Facebook at this link: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Casa-Sazon/315837594524).

The owner, a really nice guy named Molina, told me that many of his customers like the restaurant's dishes spicy and hot - REALLY hot.

 

He said he makes a special hot sauce made of nothing but ground jalapeño and habanero peppers. Some of the customers slather their burritos with this hot-as-fire concoction.

"They still say, 'It's not hot enough,'" Molina said.

"Where were they born," I replied in disbelief, "hell?!"

My Run-In With A Truly 'Supreme' Diva

I had the honor of chatting with Motown legend, Mary Wilson of the Supremes, on Friday, Sept. 19, 2014, when she visited my hometown of Columbus, Ohio, to perform with a group of amazing local musicians, the Columbus Jazz Orchestra.

After the show, Wilson graciously signed autographs and posed for photos with fans and admirers, myself included. As I told her, she is a "Supreme" diva in the best sense of the word.

Prior to this photo on Sept. 19, 2014, I interviewed Mary Wilson
 nearly 20 years ago at the opening of the Rock and Roll
Hall of Fame in Cleveland.
(Photo Courtesy of Suzan Bradford, The Lincoln Theatre) 

The concert was held at the historic Lincoln Theatre in the King-Lincoln District, which is known as the "Cradle of Jazz" because so many jazz greats originated there, including central Ohio natives Nancy Wilson (no relation to Mary) and legendary saxophonist Rahsaan Roland Kirk.

Here's an overview of Wilson's performance with the jazz orchestra:

Wilson noted that this year marks the 50th anniversary of the Supremes’ first hit record. 

“I’m so glad our music has been able to inspire people all over the world,” she said.

Throughout the show, Wilson exhibited a strong stage presence and showmanship that has enabled her to enjoy five decades as an entertainer. In between songs, she bantered with the audience, sharing funny stories and explaining why certain songs have a meaning to her.

She related that she is well aware that the musical "Dreamgirls” is based on the Supremes. Wilson also shared that she decided to name her autobiography after the show when she first saw it on Broadway.

 

Mary Wilson graciously signed autographs and
posed for photos with fans after the show.

 

“We certainly thought we were dreamgirls,” Wilson said, referring to the original Supremes lineup that also included Florence Ballard and Diana Ross.

Wilson performed a moving tribute to the late Ballard, singing “I Am Changing” from “Dreamgirls.” While Wilson and Ross have not always seen eye to eye, Wilson made very gracious comments about her former bandmate during her appearance with the jazz orchestra.

“Diane did such a great job on lead vocals with our songs,” Wilson said.

She joked about primarily being known as a backup singer in the Supremes: “I ooh’d and aah’d my way to the bank for 50 years.”

(My full-length concert review is in the Oct. 1, 2014, edition of the Call and Post, Ohio's oldest and largest African-American newspaper, http://callandpost.com/.)

My 'Curb Your Enthusiasm' Episode At The Dentist's Office

During a recent family gathering, my mom, brother and sister and I were trading "war stories" about irritating experiences we've recently had with healthcare providers.

I shared a recent trip to the dentist for a checkup that should have been routine but turned into an aggravating encounter that nearly spoiled my evening.

 

I scheduled the appointment for 5:45 p.m., giving myself what I thought would be a comfortable cushion from the time I get off at 5 to make it from my office in downtown Columbus, Ohio, to an east side suburb called Reynoldsburg.

It's not that long of a commute, but by the time I walked to the parking lot, 15 to 20 minutes had already gone by. And driving just 20 to 25 minutes in rush-hour traffic, even in perfect weather like on this particular mid-September day, can be stressful.

When I arrived at the dentist's office shortly after 5:50, I breathed a sigh of relief. Being five to 10 minutes late is no big deal, right? I think everyone should get a "give or take 15 minutes" window for appointments.

However, when I walked into the dentist's office, the first thing a young woman at the front desk said to me was, "You're late."

This, of course, put me on the defensive. "Oh, so you're the timekeeper?" I shot back sarcastically.

With equal sarcasm, she replied, "Yes, I keep track of appointments. It's my responsibility to keep time."

After taking some time to cool down in the waiting room, I apologized to the young woman, but added, "After rushing to get here in start-and-stop traffic all the way from downtown, no one wants to hear, 'You're late,' the first thing when they walk in the door." She was pleasant and also apologized, and we "made up."

After relating the story to my family, my mom commented that my initial gruff reaction to the young woman's comment about my tardiness was like I was channeling my late grandparents, who could rip someone to shreds if they felt they were being disrespected.

However, upon further reflection, I realized my encounter with the young woman at the dentist's office was more like a "Larry David moment."    

That encounter could have totally been an episode of David's hilarious HBO sitcom Curb Your Enthusiasm, in which the writer and Seinfeld co-creator goes around getting in funny confrontations with people, wreaking havoc in the greater Los Angeles area. David is an equal-opportunity offender, unafraid to verbally joust with self-important celebrities as well as everyday people.

If my dentist's office encounter had been an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm, it would have ended much differently. Rather than apologize and make nice with the young woman who had pointed out my lateness, we would have gotten into a verbal sparring match that would have escalated into shouting and I would have stormed out, knocking over some priceless vase that could never be replaced.

And then later on in the episode, I'd be at Ted Danson and Mary Steenburgen's house for their anniversary dinner and would discover, in melodramatic horror, that the young woman from the dentist office was also a dinner guest. She would be seated directly across from me, of course, so we'd be forced to make eye contact and I'd find out she's the girlfriend of some high-powered network exec that I'm trying to get to greenlight my new TV show.

When the young lady pointed out that I'm the jerk from the dentist's office earlier in the day, I'd at first deny vehemently it. I'd try unsuccessfully to hide my face behind a dinner napkin, feigning a ridiculously loud and disgusting hacking cough and grossing out everyone at the dinner table. But unable to contain my caustic wit, I'd end up in another shouting match with the young woman and storm out of the anniversary party.

As I was making my grand exit, the young woman would bellow at my back, "Be careful, since you're such a big klutz!" She would proceed to humiliate me in front of all my friends by informing everyone at the party in an obnoxiously self-righteous tone that the priceless vase I'd broken at her office earlier in the day was actually something that her high-powered TV executive boyfriend had spent months to find. She had accompanied him to painstakingly comb antique stores all over L.A., searching selflessly for the perfect anniversary gift for Danson and Steenburgen.

Maybe I should pitch this episode idea to Larry David?