I'm Major Jackson and this is the slowdown.

I'm Major Jackson and this is the slowdown.

I made a silly comment to my friend Kossum, if only I could stop eating food altogether. He said, dream on.

Then advised I try intermittent fasting. I bawled. Later that evening, while eating a chocolate cookie,

I flipped open my computer to do some research. The articles were persuasive, as were the before after picks.

I targeted the next Sunday as a start date.

I wasn't going to miss a co-worker's Saturday barbecue.

So I moved the new date on my Google calendar

to the following week.

Then I remembered the visiting author due to arrive on

campus and all the delicious meals I would miss. So I started my fast right away. In the first few hours I put to work a will and

determination that I didn't think I possessed. I had eight more hours to go. I distracted

myself by going to Whole Foods, nothing like advancing into enemy territory

while one stomach cries out,

Feed me, Major, feed me.

I walked listlessly by the croissants and bagels, by the

blackberries and grapes, by the hot tins of aromatic soups

and counted the minutes.

Alas, by dinner time, my midsection ached a cavern of emptiness.

Ravenous, I tore into leftover lasagna, cold and drank orange juice straight from the carton.

We are all wrought with hungers, of all varieties.

They've played an outside's role in the history of the world, maybe even driven it.

...