As much as I look forward to spring, I hate the thought of spring cleaning.  It means going through things I stashed last fall and finding someplace else to hide them for the summer.   I'm running out of hiding places.

It's also a time of self-reckoning.   I'm not sure which is worse - finding a fat man's clothes in my closet, or finding out they still fit.  This makes five years in a row.

Every year I promise myself I'll lose weight.  Every year I lie.  It's like a New Year's resolution that I was too lazy to make in December.

Besides, going on a diet with all that food around is like a smoker trying to quit with a full carton of cigarettes in the cabinet.

"As soon as I finish eating all this food, I'm going on a diet.  I'm never buying groceries again.  I'll just wear the patch."

It's too bad there isn't a patch that will keep us from getting hungry.  Maybe they could use aromatherapy.  My grandson has produced a few smells that could kill an appetite.

But there are all kinds of diet books on display at the grocery store checkout.  Sure, wait till I've got a cart full of red meat and ice cream, then tell me how to eat right.  That's like selling birth control pills in a Lamaze class.

I wouldn't mind diets so much if I could find one that fits my lifestyle.  In other words, I want one that lets me eat anything I want and takes off fifteen pounds a week with no exercise.

My best friend told me that he's lost a lot of weight by eating several times each day.  Now that's my kind of diet.  I ate six full meals every day for a month, and the only thing I lost was the feeling in my legs.

Another friend told me about this diet where you can eat all the red meat and fat you want, but you can't eat bread or potatoes.   You lose weight, but it has this trifling side effect of trashing your kidneys.

I tried counting points, but I lost count halfway through the last cheese ball.  Besides, the problem with that program is the more weight you lose, the fewer points you get to consume.  The choice was simple - a pink ribbon or a cheeseburger?  Duh!

And let's face it, there are very few things we can eat that won't pack on the pounds.  Rice cakes are low in fat, but they taste like a styrofoam cooler that's been sitting in a boat all summer.

The same is true of most frozen dinners.   The box shows a delectable entrée of chicken, green beans, and apple cobbler, but what's inside looks like last month's leftovers.  And most of them couldn't taste any worse if they were strained through my brother's socks.

Meat substitutes are another popular choice, especially among people who have never eaten them.  But there may be some merit to the idea of vegetables that taste like meat.  I had a hamburger once that tasted like cabbage.  It was low-cal, too.  In fact, I think I lost a few calories.

Instead, I got the shaft.  "Don't eat so much."  Care to guess how much I paid her to tell me that?

Then she started mumbling something about exercise.  Okay, that's where I draw the line.  I don't mind giving up french fries for a few days, but I've seen what exercise can do to people.  I'm almost positive Richard Simmons used to be normal.

But I have to do something.  Summer will be here soon, and I'd like to enjoy it.  I want to take my grandson fishing, but my boat's weight capacity is printed on my driver's license.  And the neighbors have asked me not to work outdoors without covering my chest.  I think a few of the women are jealous.