Team USA Cooks Up A Dramatic Win!

Team USA Cooks Up A Dramatic Win!

By Mike Lauterborn

© 2010. All Rights Reserved.

6/23/10

Fairfield, CT – Chef’s Table, popular café in downtown. Mid-morning on a Wednesday. Fifty-two inch VIZIO TV mounted on a brick wall. Across from it, a handful of males – a mix of dads and sons – with eyes glued to the screen.

The focus of their attention? The World Cup match between the U.S. and Algeria. This would decide if America is a contender and will earn a slot among the final 16 teams or if they go home.

As with all matches, in the stands at the arena, the Vuvuzelas blared, like a hive of riled hornets. And, certainly, the mood among fans was feverish, both sides cheering on their combatants, abuzz with excitement.

America’s triumph would depend on a combination of things: the skill of the players behind the lead of Captain Carlos Bocanegra, the luck of shots on goal with regard to the positioning of Algeria’s goalie and the accuracy of the referee’s calls. Thus far, in this year’s World Cup, officials’ judgments had been much in question.

Algeria took the first potshot, about five minutes in, which actually ricocheted off the goalpost. The strike signaled that the game would be a fierce one.

The U.S. took the next significant shot – a rebound that Clint Dempsey booted, which actually went in the goal but was discounted due to the ref’s judgment that a player was offside. (A review determined that the call was a bad one, but the call still held.)

Weather conditions in Pretoria, South Africa, the site of the game, were perfect as the sun started to drop behind the stadium. “This weather is good for the players. They like this,” said Stanley, sitting nearby. Originally from Slovakia (land of hockey pucks), he’s now a Monroe resident and had played soccer in his home country. A stucco contractor, he had been on his way to Norwalk and decided to stop in and catch the game. “I used to watch the games at Roberto’s in Bridgeport, but he closed the restaurant.” We discussed who had been the best player and best goalie thus far in the Cup as the 1^st half came to a close, the score “nil-nil” as the broadcasters noted.

By this time, a mom had joined one of the dad/son combos, and two other guys had come to sit in. All of us were now transfixed to the screen, wondering how the second half would play out.

Meanwhile, England was busy duking it out with Slovenia, with the score 1-0, England on top. One of our brethren here had pulled up that game on his laptop and was viewing it live. He turned the screen toward us all so we could also eyeball it as ESPN was not showing it as an inset. The broadcaster was, however, providing periodic updates.

The laptop’s owner was a fellow named Rumen, and he hailed from Bulgaria. I introduced him to Stanley, saying, “Bulgaria meet Slovakia… Slovakia, Bulgaria.” Overhearing that, another guy said to me, “Where are you from?” “Two blocks from here… “ then, feeling like I needed to qualify myself on an international level, said, “but I have German, Irish and Welsh roots.”

“The Algerian goalie (Rais M. Bolhi) played for Bulgaria,” Rumen pointed out. “He played in the championship.” Despite that connection, Rumen was rooting for Team USA.

Well into the 2^nd, Clint Dempsey took another shot at Algeria’s goal, hesitating then firing. The ball ricocheted off the right post, sending up a collective groan here and at the stadium among the red, white and blue adorned fans.

“Look at this,” Rumen interjected. “Slovenia had three chances to score against England,” he said, showing me a replay from his laptop of three simultaneous attempts on goal that were deflected, blocked or wide.

Walking into the café at that moment was local personality, reggae band leader and philanthropist Mystic Bowie, with his sidekick Shannon. He joined our throng noting, “I was watching the game at home.”

His bassist Renard also strolled in and began setting up an amp and wiring in the alcove on the street side of the narrow cafe. He paused in the process to eyeball the screen.

The Vuvuzelas were at full pitch as the 2^nd half 75-minute mark passed. At the 78-minute mark, USA’s Michael Bradley earned a free kick but ended up driving it right at the Algerian goalie. At this point, even former president Bill Clinton, attending the match and sitting alongside FIFA chief Sepp Blatter, looked anxious about the U.S.’ chances.

Dempsey took a karate chop to the face, which bloodied his cheek and lip. He poured a bottle of water on the wound and went straight back in to support his mates.

“Gang Green” (referring to the color of Algeria’s uniforms) kept up the pressure. In the stands, U.S. and Algeria fans alike braced themselves. The mood was similarly hopeful and prayerful in the café.

“C’mon guys!” called out Rumen.

At the 88^th minute, Team USA looked beat and Algeria was definitely the aggressor. The broadcasters used terms like “desperate” and “exhausted” and wondered if the team could find a way to make a “dramatic” score.

The words had barely left the broadcaster’s mouth when, in the 91^st minute, USA led a charge upfield… and Landon Donovan confidently booted the ball into the left corner of Algeria’s goal! We all erupted into cheers, fist pumps, high fives and soul handshakes as Donovan ran to the corner of the field, did a slide and was piled on by his exuberant teammates. He had sealed the deal, given fans what they had prayed for and pushed the U.S. into the next round. As the commentator put it, “You could not write a script like this… It was a Hollywood-style finish!” and “Mountainous drama!”

USA had certainly earned it after the disallowed goal, shots hitting posts and physical abuse. “It was looking like another huge injustice,” said ESPN, but, as hero Donovan said, “We’re alive baby!”

“I’m shocked and so proud of our guys,” Donovan added. It was a truly triumphant moment, one of the greatest in sports history.

USA! USA! USA! 

Mike Lauterborn, Pen For Hire

Diary of a Cleanser: Part 2

Diary of a Cleanser: Part 2

By Mike Lauterborn

© 2010. All Rights Reserved.

6/19/10

Fairfield, CT – More than four pounds lost. Feeling trimmer and more juiced. Clear fluids being emitted from my body.

This was my self-assessment at the start of the fourth day of the Isagenix Cleanse Program that I had chosen to subscribe to through Wesport, CT-based Propper Cleanse Center LLC. My goal in the program was to lose around 10-12 pounds, eliminate accumulated toxins built up over 45 years and gain more energy and concentration to help me more effectively get through my work projects. I seemed well on the way.

Saturday, June 19: Day 4

My day began at the usual time, around 6:45am, and I immediately jumped on the scale. The reading: 179.4 pounds. From my initial weigh-in weight at the very start of the program, I was now down 4 ½ pounds.

The schedule of intake occasions for the day was nearly identical to yesterday’s: Cleanse for Life drinks, Natural Snacks, Accelerator capsules, cold water, raw almonds and IsaFlush. With no real food on the list, it wasn’t very motivating… but the results were and I knew there was an actual meal on the schedule at midday tomorrow, so I had something towards which to work.

The latter part of yesterday was a little tough. I attended a Beach Fest event here at the local beach in which bands were playing, outdoor grills were going and the Beach Café was dispensing tasty wraps, burgers, hot dogs and more. In contrast, I was parked in a beach chair with a cooler alongside me that contained a baggie with four almonds, my Cleanse drink bottle, three water bottles and my assorted capsules. I showed these to the friend with whom I was sitting and she was sympathetic, having “cleansed” in the past. She cheered me on and admired my willpower. Meanwhile, another friend checked in by phone and said he was headed to a mutual friends’ house for a guy gathering and multiple brews. “Have a few for me,” I told him. “Don’t worry, I will!” he said.

This morning, I would be taking advantage of the cool, sunny morning to go kayaking with my 10-year-old son. This would again require a cooler and some scheduling coordination.

Sunday, June 20: Day 5

I was quite pleased with the digital read-out on my scale this morning: 177.4 – a full two pounds down just since yesterday and now 6 ½ pounds down from my initial program weigh-in, in just four days! I was definitely looking trimmer and getting compliments on my slimmer look – from my 10-year-old this morning and from a female friend at the beach yesterday who said, “You really look great!”

I did end up going kayaking with my son yesterday morning, from 9:30 to 11:30, on Long Island Sound. We took out two single kayaks and did a round-trip excursion of three miles from the Westport, CT shore to an outlying island called Cockenoe. I had a lot of power and endurance and definitely could have -- and would have -- gone a lot further if I had been alone, but, of course, I had to heed the cries of “Dad! Wait up! You’re going too fast!” and “How do you go so fast?”  The soft-sided cooler I brought did the trick in terms of the intakes I needed to hit, with the cold water serving as a great refresher actually.

Three hours of beach time followed, during which I was fairly sedentary, reclined in a low-rise beach chair soaking up rays. It was then that I received the compliment from my friend, who was lounged beside me.

In the evening, I ventured out locally to see a favorite reggae band and danced a bit to the point of breaking a light sweat. I had only one last “intake” occasion – water, almonds and an IsaFlush tablet -- to cover during that time, which was easy enough to hit. Still, it was a bit hard being in a bar and not being able to order a beer, especially with everyone around me drinking one! I was feeling pretty hungry by the time I got home, too, and satisfied my thirst with a bottle of water.

Today is Father’s Day and I had planned a little fishing outing. Again, the soft-sided cooler came in handy in which to tote my supplies. The pause I took to consume my mid-morning “meal” barely registered on the radar. After the excursion and realizing I was fresh out of water, I raced to CVS to take advantage of a bottled water sale, and hauled home three cases.

The moment I’d been waiting for finally arrived: lunch, a semi-real one. Scanning my possible “allowed” menu options, I chose four slices of turkey (my protein), which I slipped between two slices of whole wheat bread (my starch), integrated 2 tbsp’s of olive oil (my fat), dropped into a bowl three cups of romaine lettuce (my vegetable) with some ground pepper and balsamic vinegar and, for dessert, put together a small bowl of raspberries and strawberry slivers. The “feast” was really welcome and made me feel like a somewhat normal person again.

The balance of the day’s input would include the Snacks, capsules, more water, almonds and a dinner Shake. I could handle it.

A beach visit late afternoon held an unexpected bonus, specifically meeting a woman who works for a chiropractor, was familiar with the Isagenix program and maintains a smart, healthy lifestyle herself. She completely related to my objectives, strategy and challenges, and boosted my drive to faithfully complete this phase.

Funny, but while we were talking, a guy who had overheard our conversation jumped in to say that he was currently on a diet. He described himself as the one in his family to finish the leftovers or to have a few beers and a pile of chips and that that had contributed to some unwanted pounds. Now he was fasting – “starving” himself he said. This woman, Francine, and I both pointed out that that was not a good way for him to go about the process and even he said, “I’m not eating anything and yet I can’t lose this middle.” Of course, his body was not being fed and his “furnaces” had shut down, were not processing like they should. I suggested he have a few small portions of the types of food I was having and drink lots of cold water and that I’d bet he’d see better results. I have to admit I felt pretty good being the one offering the health advice!

Monday, June 21: Day 6

The official crack-o’-dawn weigh-in: 177, just a half a pound down from yesterday but now a full seven pounds dropped since I started the program 5 days ago. Today’s schedule, among other elements, includes a Shake for breakfast, a 400-600 calorie lunch and Shake for dinner. This would be a breeze – no heavy lifting here.

I was thinking about what a friend said with regard to this initiative and his perspective on it. Something to the effect of, “I’d rather have a beer belly than a lean corpse,” suggesting that one gives up a lifestyle just for longer life and what fun is that in the end? I counter that you’re not really giving up a lifestyle, but just being more conscious of what you eat, understanding how your body processes food and what it needs, and maintaining a balance. Can you have a cheeseburger? There are better things you can have, but sure you can. Just balance it with a vegetable or water or something else that’s good for you.

I have also made a resolution. Seeing other guys my age walking around with potbellies and looking 10-15 years older than they really are, I do not want to be one of those guys.

Lunch today: a 5-ounce chicken breast on a plate alongside three cups of steamed vegetables, a cup of whole grain penne pasta topped with two tablespoons of olive oil, and an organic apple for dessert. Now I was living large… or not so large as the case now is!

I visited a friend in the evening and she ordered in a pizza. It smelled so good and was a very appealing alternative to the water and IsaFlush capsule that I had in hand. But I remained a rock and the moment passed.

Tuesday, June 22: Day 7

The scale this morning read 176.4, down another half pound for a total of 7 1/2 pounds lost thus far. The steepness of the weight loss curve had leveled I had noticed, but I was sure it was because I was eating more heartily – or as heartily as you can eat in this program! I expected similar results over the next two days, which offered the same “feeding” schedule, then more marked drops again on Days 10 and 11, the final days in which only Cleanse-type products and water were allowed.

Mid-morning, I had my weekly salsa dance class (my last of a 10-week program actually) to which I brought my 10:30 dosage. I saw my Cleanse Coach Ginger Propper there, told her of my weight drop success and spoke briefly about what lay beyond the end of the 11-day Cleanse, which was dependent on what I achieved and how I wanted to proceed.

Lunch was another 400-600 calorie extravaganza. I went the turkey-slices-with-olive-oil-on-whole-wheat-bread route with a side of steamed mixed vegetables and a big handful of berries. It was most enjoyable, particularly after the dance class plus a half-hour of concentrated stretching with weights.

The balance of the day was a cakewalk, with the exception of eyeballing some chicken fajita wraps, which took some willpower to resist, that appeared at the dinner hour.

I looked forward to the homestretch of this Cleanse experience.

STAY TUNED FOR PART 3 (THE FINAL CHAPTER) OF THIS CLEANSING SAGA, COMING SOON!

Diary of a Cleanser: Part 1

Diary of a Cleanser: Part 1

By Mike Lauterborn

© 2010. All Rights Reserved.

6/16/10

Fairfield, CT – Meal Replacement Shakes. Dietary Supplements. Appetite Suppressing Natural Chocolate cubes. Cleansing juice. Organic foods. Gallons and gallons of water… Welcome to my new reality.

I’d spent 45 years walking around on this planet and flushed several car radiators, multiple drains and numerous toilets. But I’d never flushed my own system, so when Westport, CT-based Dr. Propper and his wife and Cleansing Director Ginger offered the opportunity to try their proprietary nutritional cleanse and weight loss program, I decided to give it a whirl. The appeal: A free initial consultation, only a 40-day commitment, tasty whey shakes that would give me a much-needed energy boost and the potential of losing about 12 pounds around my middle. Beyond this, some consultation on my general back and organ health.

The first I heard about their facility, the Propper Cleanse Center LLC, was via email from The Dance Collective. The latter was where I had been taking Latin dance classes – another story in itself – and the owners, at Ginger’s suggestion, thought the already health conscious group would benefit from hearing about the program. Honestly, I didn’t think this was for me and hadn’t planned on attending, but the talk immediately followed my Salsa dance class and I thought the least I could do was listen in. No harm in that, right?

I usually like to learn new things, so I was all ears as I and my 16 or so classmates relaxed in folding chairs in the mirrored studio in which we had just finished strutting. Ginger, a member of our dance class, introduced her husband and he jumped right in telling us about how he first became interested in the program – a patented system created by a company called Isagenix. He claimed to be a “sports jock” himself and so was in fairly good shape. Indeed, he looked trim. But, he said, no matter how active, impurities collect in cells, eventually damage organs and lead to sickness. By the end of the talk, I was committed to trying the program and made an appointment to visit the Center.

It was a Monday morning when I dropped into the clean, sunny office at 375 Post Road West. Ginger greeted me, had me fill out a tome of forms and then turned me over to Dr. Propper who led me to a private consultation room. We spoke about my spinal and organ health and external factors, e.g. stress, lack of exercise, poor eating habits, etc. that may be affecting me. He turned me back over to Ginger, she swiped my credit card – now officially committing me to the program – and I was on my way. I would return end of day to pick up the first salvo of products, to sustain me through a two-day Pre-Cleanse and then nine-day Cleanse period.

I had grocery shopping to do now, so when Tuesday rolled around, I meandered over to the friendly, local Trader Joe’s with a list of products that were not my typical pick-ups. Replacing tortilla chips, beef burgers and Tuscan bread were organic apples, celery stalks, peanut butter, kiwi, raw almonds, oatmeal, berries, chicken breast, organic brown rice, veggies for steaming and fresh turkey meat and burgers. I was used to grabbing and going -- the quicker the in-and-out shopping time, the better. Now I felt like one of those fussy health nuts as I prowled the aisles, carefully selected items and stood there reading packaging.

With the initial products purchase and this shopping trip, I’d racked up about $230 in expense – but, then, can you really put a price on good health and feeling good? That’s what I reasoned, anyhow.

All that was left to do was to decide on my start day. Let’s just jump right in, I figured and planned to start the next day. Here, then, is my journey, documented as “Diary of a Cleanser.”

Wednesday, June 16: Day 1

I awoke at 6:45am, usual time, and really felt stiff, achy and tired. I’d pushed myself to finish a writing piece the night before, working until midnight, and my lower back throbbed from sitting at a funny angle at the keyboard. I really had to make a focused effort to get up.

After a quick shower, I dropped to the kitchen, pulled out my detailed Pre-Cleanse Day 1 schedule and looked at the first item, to be initiated at 7am. “Breakfast: IsaLean Shake plus one Natural Accelerator capsule.” Reading the labels, I noted that the Shake has ingredients that promote fat-burning, protein amino acids, appetite suppressors, stress absorbers, liver and kidney nourishers, muscle mass maintainers and muscle density protectors. The capsules do some of the same but also stabilize blood sugars, enhance oxygen assimilation and cleanse the circulatory system.

I pulled out a blender, dropped in the chocolate-flavored powder and nine ounces of cold purified water and, voila, I had a breakfast shake. With a couple ice cubes to chill it, I found that it was actually pretty tasty. The caplet had no taste and went down easy. Normally, I would have fired up a pot of high-octane coffee, which would sustain me throughout the morning, so this was the New Deal. OK so far.

At 9am and 10:30am respectively, the schedule directed me to consume 8 to 16 ounces of cold water and two (count ‘em, one, two) raw almonds. I crunched the latter in small little nips, making the very modest offering last. I expected to be hungry by late morning, but the water was actually holding off the desire to chow.

When the next time slot popped up – 12:30pm – I was ready to munch. I would actually get to eat a lunch, though contained to between 400 and 600 calories. I had never been a calorie counter so, really, this was meaningless to me. But I figured it meant portions would be small.

The program offers “Menu Ideas” with regard to meal occasions, wherein you can select one item from each of five columns: Protein, Starches, Fat, Vegetable and Optional (the latter being like the Potpourri column on Jeopardy!). Within these columns were the items for which I had gone and shopped.

I decided to make it easy on myself this first day and just go right across the top row: 1 hard-boiled egg, 1 cup oatmeal, 2 tbsp of olive oil, 3 cups mixed greens and 1 organic apple. The point here, apparently, was to affect a good balance of the foods our bodies need.

I set to work like a mad scientist, with multiple pots, measuring spoons, measuring cup, bowls and utensils, cooking up this goulash of purported goodness. When the timer had stopped buzzing and the steam cleared, I actually had a diverse little collection of food, and dug in. Everything was good and I was experiencing no adverse symptoms at the outset of this cleanse “warm up”, with the exception of having to pee more frequently than usual. And each time I did so, the resulting fluid was clearer and clearer.

About a half hour after lunch, I started to drag, feeling sluggish and light-headed. I read that this was to be expected and is a sign that the cleanse is starting to take effect and impurities are being released. Ginger checked in and suggested more protein to counteract the lightheadedness, so I helped myself to a slice of turkey breast.

On this first day, I decided I should probably weigh and measure myself, so I have a baseline for comparison as I go along. The local CVS had both a digital scale and a soft measuring tape like tailors use when they’re doing alterations. These combined set me back another $32, but would be useful going beyond this program anyhow, so good investments I figured.

So, the measurement process drove a couple surprises. First, I expected to weigh in around 195-200 pounds, so was very happy that I was only registering 184, pretty good for a 6-foot tall male. I was not so happy with the waist measure. I knew some fat had settled around my waist but never did I expect a reading of 40 inches! This was around my thickest area, which is really a couple inches above where my pants fall, which is why I can wear pants with a 36-inch waist. The measure around my chest was 42 inches, another area that I hoped to firm up.

Now good and running and amply hydrated, I more closely leafed through the 38-page packet I’d been given. This primarily spelled out the day-to-day, but also provided background on how the body works. I found this all quite interesting and how each cell has its own little furnace (the mitochondria) and how that little furnace needs to heat up to help raise our metabolism and burn fat. When the furnace isn’t getting its required trace minerals and active enzymes, it doesn’t function properly, doesn’t burn the fat and impurities get stored in the body rather than carried away by the minerals and flushed out of our systems. (Dieting is actually the complete wrong thing to do when you want to lose weight.) The resulting fat-burning lowers insulin and cortisol levels, produces proper brain chemistry and enhances the cells. Fascinating stuff… and logical.

More doses of cold water, raw almonds and an Accelerator capsule followed at 2pm and 3:30pm and, still, all was seemingly ok in Intestine Land. Enough so that I was able to venture out for a bit, two water bottles clutched in hand. But I had to make sure to race back home to make dinner – another IsaLean Shake mixed in the blender. The tricky thing with the shake is that you can’t pre-prepare it. There’s an enzyme that’s activated when you add cold water and you have to drink the shake within five minutes of mixing or it’s ineffective.

Around 6:30pm, after another round of water and almonds, I was jones-ing for food and resorted to an approved helping of two celery stalks with some organic peanut butter smoothed on them. “Ingesting negative calories?” my son Evan inquired, looking over. Very perceptive of him… and accurate. Each 8-inch stalk has six calories and its ingestion can result in negative calories due to the bodily energy devoted to its digestion. The ingestion of cold water enhances the effect, because the liquid needs to be warmed to body temperature, which requires further expenditure of energy. How ‘bout them apples?!

The 10^th and final scheduled step of the day called for IsaFlush, another dietary supplement. These caplets contain magnesium, which “improves water absorption for better colonic function”, encourage regularity, support cardiovascular health, soothe any intestinal discomfort and improve the user’s ability to withstand physical, emotional and environmental stress by having a balanced digestive system. Grey in color, tasteless and pretty harmless looking, it cruised downtown with no hitch or obstacle.

I was done for the day and thought I’d drop into bed early to get some needed z’s.

Thursday, June 17: Day 2 

I felt kind of warm last night going to bed, like my body was really working on something – which I’m sure it was – and flipped on a window fan. This morning, my stomach felt a little knotted, like more was going on in my body. Once I was up though, these feelings went away and I was eager for my starter Shake. My schedule for the day would be the exact same as yesterday, with 10 “events”, though I planned to vary my midday meal and try something different.

Throughout the morning, I had to keep reminding myself that I could not just fire up an English muffin or grab some cereal, which I would often do if I saw my boys doing the same. I got a little bummed, too, when a friend sent me a reminder email about a beer festival happening in five days in New York City, an event that I would normally be all over. When I informed him I was participating in a cleanse program, he said beer is usually his cleanser. He then wondered if I was following the cleanse program you see in the infomercials all the time, offered by Klee Irwin, that cheesy-looking guy with the pencil-thin moustache who looks like he should be selling used cars rather than pushing health solutions.

In terms of my overall status today, I was feeling pretty energized, and diligently worked throughout the morning. Perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me – or it was wishful thinking – but my upper torso also seemed somewhat more firm. Further, my pee was as clear as spring water – which is essentially what it was given my voracious consumption of same.

When early afternoon rolled around, I was good and ready (but not starving) for my midday meal. I decided to be a little more adventuresome and went for the following menu options: 5-ounce chicken breast (easy enough to microwave), one cup of basmati rice (a little more involved with boiling, fluffing, letting stand), two tbsp’s of nuts of choice (I picked walnuts), 3 cups of steamed vegetables (quick to steam, and good with the rice) and a handful of organic berries (nice plump raspberries). A pretty nice, nutritious lunch all in all that I might even be likely to order in a restaurant. That was really it though in terms of any hard core food and, looking ahead in my program schedule, the last “meal” I’d have for the next 48 hours.

Mid-afternoon, I was able to escape to the beach and took a soft-sided cooler in which to keep chilled the two bottles of water and four raw almonds I would need to consume. That worked out ok.

What was harder was resisting the urge to fall off the wagon mid-evening when the NBA Game 7 Finals between the Celtics and Lakers aired, and I really wanted to have a beer and chips. But I soldiered through. Again, late night, I felt a bit warm and my legs were kind of tight and throbbing.

Friday, June 18: Day 3 

I looked at today with some curiosity… and trepidation… as it was a non-meal day… only products, water and almonds. It was the first official Cleansing day. First, I had to do a weigh-in/measure, the “reward” for the commitment as my info packet suggested. 181.2 lbs and 39 ½” around the widest part of my waist -- I had lost almost three pounds already and a ½” around the middle, just in the Pre-Cleanse phase. Not bad.

Breakfast consisted of a Natural Chocolate Isagenix Snack, one Natural Accelerator capsule, four ounces of Cleanse For Life drink and a bottle of cold water. Two of these products were first time tryouts for me. The snack – a large saucer-like brown disk that broke down easily when chewed and tasted ok, promotes thermogenic fat burning, lean muscle density and blood sugar balance, supports liver health, decreases sugar cravings and absorbs stress -- a lot for a little tablet. The Cleanse For Life drink (tropical berry flavored) was the Big Kahuna of the bunch, with 70 ionic minerals from ancient plant deposits blended into rich Aloe Vera juice powder. It promotes the health of the liver and kidneys and rapid fat burning, absorbs stress, suppresses the appetite, enhances oxygen assimilation and stabilizes blood sugar.

The drink has two other elements that are key: Pau Di Arco helps cleanse the system of residual chemicals, parasites and parasite eggs as well as Candida, which is essentially yeast that interferes with protein absorption and causes anxiety, bloating and subsequent weight gain. Yeast, according to my packet, also contributes to chronic constipation and loss of focus, memory and concentration. The second helpful drink element is a blend of Lipotropic Nutrients which help cleanse the intestines and the colon as well as improve the effectiveness of one’s elimination system.

Warm, the drink was not so palatable, but ok when I chased it with water. I figured, too, that it would taste better once refrigerated, which one is supposed to do after opening the big plastic bottle.

By mid-afternoon, I could feel these new elements doing their work… like a bulldozer in my colon, pushing out the debris. I won’t go into any more detail than that -- suffice it to say, things were going downtown. The balance of the day would bring more combinations of Snacks, cold water, raw almonds and Cleanse drinks. I looked forward to the weigh-in tomorrow a.m.

STAY TUNED FOR PART 2 OF THIS CLEANSING SAGA, COMING SOON!

Pen Stationed

Pen Stationed

By Mike Lauterborn

© 2010. All Rights Reserved.

6/17/10

Penfield Beach, CT – The beach and I meet again and today we find a menagerie of moms, satchel of students, wardrobe of workmates and cluster of couples. The sky is full of clouds, there’s a stiff breeze and yet the air is warm.

A subset of 12 of the Workers has broken off from the main group, who are armed with red party cups and gathered on the Pavilion deck, and is playing volleyball. The players are not at all smooth, exercising muscles that have become more accustomed to updating spreadsheets and visiting the water cooler than batting a ball, but they do their best and appear to be having fun (if the occasional squeals are any measure).

The deck-based Workers, in their polos with nametags, look on, cheer or squeal in unison. From inside the Pavilion, live acoustic tunes play, and for a while the group forgets about their Daily Grind.

Nearby, a guy in khaki shorts, a green tee and cap sits in a multi-colored low-rise beach chair and reads. There’s a black soft side book bag, sandals, folded newspaper, water bottle and a black guitar case in the sand beside him. It seems he has all his bases covered.

Not far from The Reader is another lone guy, a JFK Jr. type, in dark-patterned plaid shorts and dark sunglasses laying flat on his back on a towel. He seems content enough to be immersed in his own space.

There’s another reader down the way – a brunette with her hair in a bun, simple blue swim top and black bottoms. She’s amply brown and seems fairly involved in the read, with the exception of the occasional glance up.

I see at least two sunburns, both on the backs of pale pale young white girls who have underestimated the sun’s strength.

“Brown-Eyed Girl” is the Pavilion tune now and the acoustic guitar sounds rich as it’s strummed, the sound reverberating around the wood and glass structure.

The tide is on its way in as a group of five students has realized. They tug their towels up the beach, recreating the encampment that they had initially established.

Brunette Reader packs up now, slips on a long black cotton beach dress and exits. She’s quickly replaced by a young couple hauling a large yellow travel bag.

The Moms group numbers six plus two children, including a squat girl with a “I’M NOT SHORT… I’M FUN SIZE” t-shirt. These are your usual Fairfield women of leisure, with housesitters, caretakers, garden services, contractors and the rest of the usual chore providers. In their pastel outfits and designer sunglasses, they chat about new restaurants, their dogs, children headed to college or home construction projects. They are evenly tanned, professionally toned and cosmetically tweaked.

A patchy colored seagull looks on, quite disinterested in everything going on. Now he’s being serenaded by The Reader, who has pulled his guitar from its case and is plucking away, playing along with the current song selection.

Strolling by now are two toast-brown women with long manes of brown hair. One is especially browned, and the abbreviated white bikini she wears enhances the contrast. They carry red party cups and make their way towards the main Pavilion. Needing the facilities, I follow two car lengths behind and laugh to myself as they pass other women who give them catty stares.

It appears we are both headed to the same destination and realize simultaneously that the main bathrooms are closed. The one in the white turns to me as I catch up and says, in halting English, “Where… the bathroom?”

I’m at a loss for the moment and can think only of the port-o-potty in the parking lot but figure there must be another connected to the structure. Sure enough, a few steps along and around the corner we find two doors, both leading to bathrooms, though one is locked. The second is unoccupied and I do the gentlemanly thing and let them go first, standing along a rail looking out at bobbing buoys.

When they emerge, they say, “Thank you,” and I ask about their accents. It turns out that Carla, in the white, and Deva, are from Montreal and just having a short visit with a friend renting housing nearby for the summer.

“I was sleeping and they [Deva and a guy friend with whom they traveled] woke me up and said ‘let’s go.’ Now we go back tonight,” she said.

It turns out Carla is originally from Portugal and had also spent time in Miami where family lives. I told her of my travels in Montreal and sites with which I was familiar – the geodesic dome, the Olympic village, the Formula One racetrack, the casinos… I mentioned, too, the local Fin du Monde beer, but she didn’t know it. “I work in a club, so I mostly drink vodka.”

I followed them back to their towels where their friend, John, with the house, was standing. He had a prison-like number tattooed on his chest and another design on an upper arm. He said he was a ballplayer, had tried out for the Tampa Bay Devil Rays and plays ball at Central High School in nearby Bridgeport. He encouraged me to attend a game.

Deva, which is Sanskrit for “god” or “deity”, didn’t say much, though only because her English was limited. Carla translated for her. She smiled a bright white smile and nodded.

Happy hour was getting started on a big yellow comforter with a blue flower pattern to it. One of the two Sunburn Girls had produced a bottle of vodka. “We need a chaser,” said one of the three friends with whom she was sitting. No one seemed motivated to go for one though. “We’ll use water,” said the guy in the group. Into red party cups, the apparent standard cupware here, the concoction went.

The Towel Tuggers, who had been punting a soccer ball around, are now snapping a group photo of themselves while standing around an upended Playmate cooler. Of the five in the group, one is a guy and he’s been charged with photo taking. Wrapped in an Alpine Lager logo’d towel, he holds the camera out while they pose along the tideline with the ocean as a backdrop.

“I’m so burnt!” one says, pulling off her sundress so they are all now in bikinis. They take a front facing composed photo, then turn around to show their backsides, placing a hand on each other’s butts. Another pose, with peace signs… then one they call “the wedding pose”, wherein they spoon each other… yet another where three of them hold a fourth in their arms horizontally… Then two of them hold the other two in their arms like babies. Next, they decide to capture the whole group by placing the camera in the sand and aiming it at themselves while standing along the shore. Not satisfied with the lot to date, they then lay flat on their bellies to try an auto-timed shot. They are like circus clowns climbing in and out of the clown car.

Beside them, a Frisbee match erupts between a quartet consisting of a guy in black shorts with large Twister-like spots on them, another in gym shorts, a third guy in green shorts and a tee, and a pale blonde in a white suit with stripes. A surfer-like dude with bushy blonde hair joins them.

The guy in gym shorts notices a Nautica beach chair has been placed by a garbage drum. “Are you getting rid of this?” he calls over to the couple that had placed it there. “Yeah, it sucks!” they reply. He opens it up, sees that it is repairable and says, “It just needs one bolt… we’ve got tons of them.” “Oh, good!” say the couple, glad to provide this donation to the needy college student.

Five women stroll up then. They are of Turkish descent perhaps and two have head scarves. They pose for photos, acting giggly and girlish, though the youngest is perhaps 50. They capture the late day light, which signals that it’s Getting Along Time… that bittersweet moment when one has to extract oneself from an enjoyable setting and return to reality.

Catch ya later PB.

In a Pen State of Mind

In a Pen State of Mind

By Mike Lauterborn

© 2010. All Rights Reserved

6/15/10

Penfield Beach, CT – A balmy, almost cloudless mid-June day and Penfield Beach is drawing sunbathers like kids to a Mister Softee truck. The bikinis are out – neon pink, lime green, snow white, royal blue, sun yellow. And keeping a bead on them are brawny jocks lobbing footballs back and forth.

A gaggle of gals on a mat of overlapping towels is entertaining themselves with horoscope readings from an astrology book. “Here’s Aries, hey Allie! It says if you can keep from becoming obese, you’ll remain attractive. I think that means you’re already fat!”

In the opposite direction, a young male boasts about his conquests: “I’ve hooked up with everyone I’ve dated.”

Shore-side, a young woman struggles to affix a sail to a sailboard. A duo in a plastic molded kayak oars in near her.

“So this old man buys me a drink and tells me, ‘Now you have to go dance with this kid,’” one of the Astrology group members confesses to her mates. “What am I, a soft-core prostitute?” This incites confessions from the others about their encounters with men in bars, pick-up lines and drink-buy offers. There’s also chat about the awkward merging of 20-somethings and 40-somethings at an intimate local watering hole.

Interrupting the revelry, an elder woman in a ridiculously saggy teeny weenie bikini wanders up shore and steps her way around blankets and towels. She catches the look, gasp and gape of each person she passes, who make comments like “WTF?” or “Did anyone else see that?” Ultimately, there’s a collective giggle that sparks and grows in volume, chasing the woman as she tries to hitch up her bikini bottoms, which may as well be around her knees at this point.

A quad of beefy guys shows, spreads out what looks like a painter’s tarp and plop down. It’s very apparent they’re not frequent beachgoers, unless it’s to Tar Beach (read: asphalt rooftop). They wear sleeveless tees and gym shorts, sport broad tats and spark up cigarettes.

The Astro group, of apparently well-heeled means, has changed topics, now to separation of church and state and what people eat in third world countries. Their gab catches the attention of a trio of women of color, who eyeball them with disdain and make comments to one another about the group.

A pair of young ladies strolls by to test the water with a toe. One looks down the beach in the direction of the pavilion, where families and school-aged kids tend to congregate, and says, “I feel like this is Teenage Wasteland.” On the return, the unenthused young woman, who is still fully clothed, adds, “My sister says this is the only water you can go into with two arms and come out with one,” a poke at the water quality.

The women of color are now looking at photos of themselves at a recent outing and saying, “Do you know how much we had to drink that night?” and how one had passed out on the others’ lap with mouth wide open and snoring.

Other electronic devices all around are pulled, checked, pecked at, tucked away and then checked all over again minutes later. Bucking the trend, a couple plays the card game UNO and cools off with Arizona Iced Tea.

A little boy tears past them, carrying a stick and chasing another boy with it. Their feet splash in the gentle waves that lap the shore.

Matching the colors of the bikinis here, kayaks carefully stacked in 3-tiered wooden storage racks invite watersports enthusiasts to pay a visit.

Pacing along the shore in the opposite direction of the sprinting boys are four lads and a girl of college age. They wear the typical beach uniform of their generation: shorts to the knees and baseball caps worn backward. They glance up the beach at clusters of honeys, hoping to make eye contact.

Two female peers sprint by them at a perpendicular angle and run splashing into the water, diving forwards when they reach knee level and submerging. They are joined by a third, who follows suit, somewhat reluctantly.

“Why did you go in?” ask the duo of the singlet. “You guys forced me!” “But aren’t you sick? Now you’re wet and sick.”

They are joined by four more female friends, who halt at water’s edge to preen and chat.

The women of color pull up stakes, followed by the urban quad, then the UNO couple. Taking their place: a dad in shorts and an A-Rod Yankee tee, pulling along his two young daughters who are dressed in matching striped swimsuits.

Sailboarder girl managed to get her mast up, took a loop out on the Sound and re-beached.

Looking like Travis Buckle from “Taxi Driver”, a young dude with a Mohawk and torso covered with tattoos ambles by. Beside him, in contrast, his preppy friend, who carries a football for them to toss.

“Have you ever gotten fried?” “Tell me if I’m getting burned.” “I use a 35.” Sun concerns from the group behind me.

“Trumbull (landlocked) should have a beach,” another suggests, “and a bridge from the ocean to transport the water.”

The subject switches to tubing. “I love lazy rivers.” “Yosemite has the best tubing.”

The women that had variously dove in and stood beside the water now sit up on a rail of the nearest pavilion structure, embrace and are captured for posterity by a male friend with a camera.

“OK, now choo-choo!” he cries out, and they change position in such a way that they are facing the same direction, sitting behind one another, for another pic.

The stick with which the one little boy had been chasing the other little boy now floats in the water, which approaches high tide. The Astro Girls have fetched ice cream treats, including a Sponge Bob pop, from the snack bar. Travis and friend are through with their ball tossing.

“Hi Chad!” a woman that has joined the Astro Girls calls out to a guy coming up the beach in a gray shirt with TULANE across the front. She is showing off a new bright pink swimsuit to the group, simultaneously pulling down and pulling up the stretchy black beach dress she’s wearing.

One of the rail posers now approaches the water. “I’ve got to pee. That’s why I’m going in,” she says to a nearby friend, then sprints in. “Oh my gosh, it’s cold! My nipples are cold!” she gushes shamelessly, cupping her breasts.

The Astro Girls get to their feet, dress and are out now, leaving a big dimpled, sandy void. On the perimeter of the void, a couple has settled in, wearing dark colors to match their deep brown skin, laying on their bellies and playing footsies with each other’s toes, their bodies closely side by side.

Up the way, a redheaded woman sits up on her knees and finger combs her blazing reddish mane. She mirrors the colors of Fruit Stripe gum – orange hair, yellow bikini top and green bikini bottoms.

“Guys, is this how it’s going to be?” says a pale white guy standing waist deep in the water receiving Frisbee tosses from friends up on the beach. 

Now a cluster of friends of Afro descent, who have been sheltering themselves in the shade of the Pavilion rails, have wandered to the water and are eyeballing it. One goes in quickly then realizes she’d had her phone on her and it has fallen into the water.

“Oh my god, my phone!” she yelps, snatching it from the tide. “It’s done,” says a friend, looking over and assessing the damage. The phone’s owner hustles the device up to a towel to lay it to dry in the sun.

“I’ve got a BBB… Belly Button Burn,” says a guy in the group behind. It’s a common beach occurrence – a spot that is neglected during lotion application.

A mischievous lad in black shorts with a Charlie Brown-like yellow stripe down each leg finds a horseshoe crab lolling in the water and decides to torture a sun-basking female friend with it.

“Ewwww!” is the resulting squeal. He grins, satisfied with the prank’s result, returns to the water and hurls the poor creature, with legs flailing, some 100 feet out into the water. At last check, the chucking of sea life is not in the best interest of its survival.

Phone Girl has seemingly gotten over the potential demise of her calling device and is now batting around a large blue rubber ball. Her five young adult friends are her playmates, along with a small cocoa bean-colored boy they call Elvis.

Walking past them, a guy as hairy as a bear, struts determinedly along carrying a kayak paddle.

“What’s with the white bathing suit?” a girl behind asks a guy friend. “A white bathing suit looks good on a girl, but I don’t know about a guy. The guy defended, “I bought it as a bathing suit, not thinking that it was a white bathing suit. At least I can judge how tan I am!”

One of the males, with a pony tail, in Phone Girl’s group, busies himself dragging into the water those friends that have been reluctant to go. They scream and wail, to no avail. One whom he surprises chases him up the beach. “I’m gonna git chu!” the pursuer threatens, though a grin spreads across his face. Phone Girl herself becomes a victim, too, carried by Pony Tail and another and essentially plopped bottom first into the tide.

“Daisy Duke shorts and bikinis on top…” is the tune carried on the breeze from a radio somewhere. It’s rare to hear music actually, given that most beachgoers listen to their tunes from iPods with earbuds in their ears.

A member of the group behind concludes that it’s better to hit a friend accidentally with a Frisbee than a stranger. “With a stranger, you’re like I’m SO sorry… and with a friend, you’re like, sorry Laura, it won’t happen again.”

Phone Girl and company are now wrapping up, in advance of elementary aged kids getting out of school. It seems like a good Going Time… and, besides,  there’s World Cup Soccer, featuring the mad Brazilians, already under way on the tube.

So long Penfield… see u another day.

Black Rock and Roll

Black Rock and Roll

By Mike Lauterborn

© 2010. All Rights Reserved.

6/14/10

Black Rock, CT – The theme was “Black Rock Rocks the Decades” and residents of the hip southwestern Bridgeport enclave sure turned up the volume.

Sunday June 13th marked Black Rock Day, a Community Council-coordinated annual opportunity for the area to celebrate itself. Features included a street parade, “Run for the Dock” 5K foot race, a Bed Race, all-you-can-eat breakfast hosted by the SS Norden Club and a festival at Ellsworth Field.

Approaching the noon hour on Fairfield Avenue, folks standing, sitting and squatting along the curbs near Ash Creek Saloon heard the first chirps and sirens of police motorcycles leading the parade procession. Little fingers went into little ears to muffle the sound as a trio of bikes rolled up. The choppers were followed by several officers on foot, then another trio on horseback, their sleek steeds clopping along on the pavement.

A banner toted by a string of children proclaimed “THE BLACK ROCK DAY PARADE”, providing an official i.d. for the march and the elements that trailed behind. Always a crowd pleaser, the fez-capped Shriners, doing figure eights in their little red, lawn mower engine-powered go-carts, thrilled kids of all ages.

Another group, all trimmed in green, came past from St. Ann’s, closely followed by softball champs supported by the Junior League of Connecticut. Wobbling up the road alongside them, on a bike adorned with American flags, came a pot-bellied man in a Yankees jersey tossing candy out of his bike basket. Kids on either side scrambled to grab up the offerings, which skidded across the roadway.

Shiny, candle apple red Engines #7 and #11 lumbered up behind, crisp American flags protruding from their front bumpers. The fire department and parade revelers were serenaded by a local band that jammed from a float merrily rolling along several car lengths back. All seemed like typical parade fare until -- zzzooooooommmm – Chicken Man came screaming along on a low-sitting go kart, did a number of loops and then continued on up the way. Yes, a beaked marauder in a bright yellow chicken suit was at the helm of this craft and on a mad mission in a blur of fuzz and feathers!

Bringing up the rear and trekking by Varsity Barber was yet another band, this one hailing from the Gaelic American Club of Fairfield. It was a good vibe to get moving along to and we all followed the tail of the parade into Black Rock’s residential area and to Ellsworth Park. Walking through the neighborhood was like traveling back in time to the Sixties, the time period most homeowners had chosen to illustrate and celebrate.

In one instance, there was a giant tie-dyed bedsheet lettered “Black Rock Day” with peace signs painted on it and bubbles flying around from behind and beneath it. The partiers there had headbands and flashed peace signs. Another home featured a sign, “LONG LIVE ROCK”, in which each letter of the phrase was painted onto a record album, and record album covers (from James Taylor and Peter, Paul and Mary) hung from the brim of a small tent.

Along the route, too, were the participants of the earlier Bed Race, like Kurt Sandwald, who had mimicked the S.S. Minnow from the popular “Gilligan’s Island” TV series. He played the Skipper, his “crew” wore sailor hats and there was even a pair of coconuts and a Hawaiian lei hanging from the bedposts. Further along, there was an actual living room futon that had been mounted to a wheeled platform. It had been moored curbside and its owner was now relaxing on it and enjoying a beer. It appeared he’d been there a while, too, as a few empties had collected along one side of the platform. “I may just sleep here tonight,” the big lad called out.

Christine Mangone, owner of a stately looking colonial directly on the route, was sitting out front with family and friends watching the goings on. “We love this neighborhood. It’s really social! And Black Rock Day is always fun!”

The parade’s endpoint was the aforementioned Ellsworth Field, where Bridgeport Police Officer Brian Pisanelli was posted with fellow officers. “Keeping everyone in check?” we asked. “It’s these guys I’ve got to worry about,” Pisanelli said, good-naturedly pointing at his co-workers.

The crowd was truly well-behaved and taking advantage of all the activities. At one end, there were pony rides, a moonbounce and a face painting station. The eastern quadrant featured a playground, hotdog stand and multiple food and beverage tents including one operated by Tavolini’s, the popular Italian restaurant on Fairfield Avenue. Another large tent provided tables, chairs and shelter for those that just wanted to take a load off. Facing all was a stage from which multiple bands took turns entertaining and in front of which festival-goers danced and shimmied. This included one extreme individual who had donned a crazy curly wig and attempted to do headstands. The Fife Band from the Fairfield Gaelic Club also did a number there, entertaining with a corps of bagpipes.

“I love ponies!” said Demi Santos, 5, from Milford, who took a loop on sand-colored “Tuffy” the horse. “This is my first pony ride!” said her friend Brooke, 7, also from Milford, who jumped up next. Their friend, Phillip Lauterborn, 10, from Fairfield, walked along beside them, cheering them on.

The Rock rocked and a grand day was had by all.