kellementology

There was a piece in the UT today about what the San Diego Zoo is doing to train the endangered Gymnogyps californianus how to avoid feeding “trash” to its young. It seems that the endangered birds collect items such as glass, possibly thinking it to be pieces of bone — which is nutritionally valuable — and leave the trash for their young to eat. Clearly, glass isn’t nutritional. And if the “therapy” doesn’t work, well, at least the birds will be happy while they remain on the endagered species list.

I’m thinking one of the real reasons their young are having difficulty surviving is the adult bird’s appearance. Would you eat anything if your mother looked like this? They eat road kill for gawdsake. And then they want to share it. I am thinking, however, that the zoo people may be on to something that could be helpful for people like me who are working toward a new, and sleeker self. No, not with the road kill. The training. Although a peek at that menu would make you want to stay away from animal protein for the rest of your life. Salad, anyone?

The training involves a sort of electroshock therapy. Yes. You read it correctly. And you’re already thinking about where I’m going with this, right? It’s a sort of behavior mod technique that goes something like this:

• hook up small pieces of garbage or trash to a “panel that emits a mild electric shock” if the item is touched;
• the bird picks the trash up, and receives the shock;
• the bird learns that the item is not safe to eat; and
• all is great in condorland.

I believe there would be a break through in weight-loss management technology if this technique was applied to, say, me. I could offer myself as guinea pig for the experiment, but it would be a bit more challenging, because I don’t have a problem staying away from glass. It’s what’s in the glass that is the problem and the calories it contains. The things that are eaten along with what is drunk in the glass would only add to the problem. You’d have to wire the wine bottles, the sugar bowl, the pasta and rice bags, and the Pop Tarts. Hell, just wire the whole freaking kitchen.

In fact, install one of those invisible beams at the door of the grocery store so I’ll get zapped if I try to cross it. Or maybe I could have a hat with some sort of camera installed that has visual memory files uploaded, and would give me a buzz if I got desperate to eat trash. Zzzzzzzztttttt. I wonder if there’s a calorie loss connected with that little procedure?

Okay, maybe not. But my scale is stuck at that mark I’ve been at for the past two weeks. You know. That mark. The hovering “right there” mark. I still think that’s good, because I’m stable — not mentally — but clearly, I have to do more than type each day to be serious about any kind of a significant weight loss. I know. I said this last week.
So I am scraping my rear off this chair and walking tonight. I said this last week, too. But the MoH has been hitting the streets for the last few days since he now gets home before dark, and I guess I’m going to have to keep him company.

I can’t quite figure out how to get him to do sit ups with me, though.

Zzzzzzzztttttt…… Bang! Make it burn…and work it…just work it!