I may have mentioned, once or twice, that I have added professional speaking to my quiver of strategies to carry the messages I wove into "Fat Boy Thin Man." In addition to the little notice I added in the upper left of this page, I've also established a space at fatboythinman.com to extol my ever-so-considerable virtues (please note my wink in that reference).

An Ottawa joint puts out an ad with a photo of its burger and the line, "Help us fight anorexia."

"Wow," I think, "what tone-deafness. They're making light of disease to make a buck! Who does that?"

Especially on the level of individuals, perhaps the biggest stumbling block to food addiction’s acceptance as a legitimate problem with specific remedies is that most folks don’t want to think they’re that bad off.

”Sure, I’ve developed a bit of a paunch, maybe, but I just have to be a bit more careful. But an addict? No way.” Certainly that sentiment is true for many people, but in a nation where two out of every three adults are overweight or obese, it may not be true for as many people who would say it.

I keep a list of potential blog topics that arise from my experience, and this morning, I’ve been trying to write about the difference between “rigid” and “rigorous,” which are two interpretations of the disciplines I try to follow to maintain my recovery from food addiction.

But I’ve stumbled out of the block three or four times, for the reason that it’s hard to talk about rigor when I’ve gained weight. [Update: After a couple of inquiries, I realized that I should have sketched the magnitude. I've gained about five pounds.]

One of the amusing conflicts in my make-up is that I abhor waste but that, as a food addict, I must limit my food intake at levels established by my nutritionist because I my internal governor for volume is hopelessly broken.

Early in my recovery, my drive for efficiency eroded my willingness to respect my food plan because, for example, I'd eat the piece of of carrot that wouldn't fit in my measuring cup instead of returning it to the fridge (what, one little piece?) or throwing it out.

Quite a bit of the journalism I practice these days plies the intersections among local, whole, and sustainable food, and I've added a menu to the right side of this page to highlight that.

Oh, and I wrote this post to highlight it, too.

It is a truism in newspaper journalism that no matter what the plan for tomorrow's paper is, it is undependable until ink actually hits paper. By that standard, basically nothing happened just now.

But, I just spent an hour being interviewed by the BBC show "Horizon," which I'm told is the equivalent of PBS's "Nova," a show I've been watching and admiring for 30 years.

My friend Rick Umali is a programmer with an interest in food, and one of the results is Eat Twitter, which attempts to track trends in food by aggregating the posts of foodies on Twitter. It's very new, but I checked it out and it has potential. Check it out.

As an author, reporter, blogger, and professional speaker, I've staked a lot on the value of public discourse. And that's why this little turd from Hershey Corp. is so offensive.

“It came down to a matter of the FDA believing that the chocolate syrup is a snack food, and that we believe it is more accurately categorized as a milk modifier, similar to products such as Ovaltine and Nesquik that have been fortified for decades,” Beckman said.

Perhaps it’s stating the obvious, but like just about everything else is capitalist America, money is at the center of our obesity crisis.

For the food industry, the issue is profit, of course. In such a thin-margin business, the only way to increase profit is to increase sales. No wonder they spend tens of billions on marketing annually.

But as a recovering food addict, I have an entirely different perspective on food and money, and that’s the untold thousands I spent to get my substances, completely disregarding prudence.