1. I am prone to feats of creative masochism, where I put myself into difficult physical situations just to see how well I respond to them, and then write about the results. Epic drives to nowhere, tedious creative projects followed by destruction of the results, extreme bike marathons, urban exploration, long-term public writing endeavors, cold turkey cessation of bad habits, you name it, I’ve probably tried it, and then written about it. One of my more intense physical feats was losing 30 pounds in about 30 days to mark my 30th birthday, through a really brutal gym regimen and Spartan diet. That was 20 years ago this month, and (since I’m warped) it begged this follow-on question for me: could I lose 50 pounds for my 50th birthday? It seemed to be an absurd premise at first, since even at my heaviest weight, I’ve never looked rotund, given my height and large frame. But I decided to give it a shot anyway, and this week I met the challenge: I weighed 231.7 pounds on February 1, 2014 — and I weighed 179.2 pounds on May 3, 2015. Total weight loss: 52.5 pounds, or 22.7% of my initial body weight. Note well, though, that I didn’t do this in a particularly masochistic fashion, since I took 15 months to shed the extra pounds, with doctor’s consultation, after my family’s proclivity for adult onset diabetes and cholesterol problems had manifested themselves during my 2014 physical. I feel good having hit the mark, and the results from the doctor’s office have been excellent, with both blood sugar and cholesterol returning to healthier ranges, and my body mass index being lower than it has been since high school. Of course, now that I am a lean, mean, masochistic, middle-aged fighting machine, the internet tells me that a squishier “Dad Bod” is officially more desirable in our ever-fickle culture. Can’t win for trying, I guess.

2. The “How Old” app has been dueling with “Dad Bod” reports recently for social media band-width, so I checked it out, figuring skinnier me would clearly look youthful to the Age-Calculating Helper Bots powering this engaging little online trifle. But I was wrong, and clearly not the member of my family who has been drinking from the Fountain of Youth for the past 25 years. Behold: Cradle Robber With No Dad Bod, and His Child Bride! (Click Marcia’s photo to visit her own blog, if you get tired of looking at and reading creepy old me):

3. I don’t mind Tax Day on April 15, since it reminds me every year that I am a contributing investor in the social contracts that bind us together as a nation. We e-filed our Federal, New York and Iowa State returns this year, and our Federal payment and New York refund processed quickly. But after three weeks, we’d not seen our fairly sizable Iowa return deposited in our bank account, so I checked the State’s “Where’s My Refund” website, and was shocked to discover that our return was being held, because the City of Des Moines had informed the State of Iowa that we owed it money, which would be docked from our State income tax return if we did not settle with the City. We had no clue what this might be, and had never received word from the City of Des Moines that we were in arrears on anything. Until yesterday, that is, when I received a letter telling me that we owed $130 to the City for speeding citations recorded by robot speed traps somewhere in Central Iowa. I have no idea what car, what driver, when, where, or why these citations were issued, since I have never received notice, nor been charged in writing, nor had the chance to address and pay these violations on my own. Which I would have done, had I known about them, obviously. This strikes me as an egregious collusion between State and City governments, and also as a completely inappropriate use of the State’s powers to apply levies to refunds due to its citizens. I get it, maybe, for things like child support payments or long overdue property taxes, but for a Robo-Cop speeding ticket in a city where I rarely drive more than 40 mph while going about my business? Come on . . . that’s a Mickey Mouse shakedown tactic, and it’s wrong. Fortunately, we’re financially solvent enough to roll with having our four-figure return delayed for a month or more, but there must be lower income families who suffer as a result of such strong arm tactics when piddly infractions result in the forced retention of refunds, which might have been ear-marked for food, housing, or healthcare expenses. So shame on you, Iowa, and shame on you, Des Moines. I’ll accept and pay my speeding tickets like a man if I deserve them, thank you, but you have to tell me that I was actually speeding before I can do that, rather than skulking around in the shadows, zapping me with hidden radar, and sniffing at the money that I already pay you both for the privilege of working and living here. That’s just bad governance.