Wayne's World: The Devil Went Down to Georgia

by Wayne Geiger

We all have our vices or addictions. I’ve always been impressed and intrigued by people who could eat half a cookie and say, “I’m full.” I cannot. When it comes to eating cookies, or anything sweet for that matter, I’m all in. It’s all or nothing.

In fact, when my wife and I share a dessert, she will often take two bites and say, “I’m done.” I pretend to be upset and finish the whole thing myself. Sugary substances are my go-to, my comfort food. By confession, it’s an obsession. Too bad they don’t give major awards for those kind of things.

Friends and fellow church members are often surprised when I’ve openly confessed this “weakness.” They think I’m jesting or exaggerating. They look at me and think, “Why worry? It’s not like you’re really overweight.”

What they don’t realize, or don’t consider, I guess, is that I do try to remain active and I am a runner. I’m in the gym a couple of times a week and try to run on a regular basis. Were it not for the burning of these calories, my uncontrollable obsession would lead to an obvious manifestation.

There are also others who suggest, “Seriously? What’s the big deal? It could be worse!” Vices manifest themselves in different ways, but at the core, they’re all the same.

In my high school days they manifested themselves in drugs, alcohol, and the party life. Now, they’re just tweaked a little. God brought this to my heart some time ago. I realized that I, like many people, was “addicted” to a substance.

There are two problems with my “sweekness” (that’s a combination of sweetness and weakness. It’s not a real word, but I’m hoping it will catch on). First, we all know that too much sugar is just not good for us. Who doesn’t know that, right?

According to recent studies, the average person eats about 150-170 pounds of sugar a year. That works out to 30-60 teaspoons of sugar a day! And sugar is so hard to avoid.

Sugar is deceptive and in everything. It’s even in items such as ketchup, salad dressing, and milk. To add to the problem, the American Heart Association says, “sugar has many other names such as maltose or sucrose…high fructose corn syrup, molasses, cane sugar, corn sweetener, raw sugar, syrup, honey or fruit juice concentrates.” They recommend no more than 6 teaspoons a day for women and 9 for men.

Nine teaspoons of sugar do not go far. A single can of pop has 8 teaspoons of sugar. That’s about the recommended maximum intake. Not only does sugar have no nutritive value, some studies have shown that too much sugar is harmful, if not extremely dangerous, to our health. Some of my church members would say, “I’ve now gone from preaching to meddling.”

So, knowing what I know about health and fitness, I know that sugar is probably not the best choice. And yet, if I open a bag or Oreos, I’m not satisfied with 3 or 4 cookies like the average person. I am compelled to make a happy plate and finish the whole bag.

The second problem with my propensity to sugar is more serious, at least for me. It shows my inability to control my own life. I have handed over my life to a substance. Entering a 12-step group clutching my Mr. Goodbar, I would be forced to say, “My name’s Wayne and I’m a sugar-holic.”

Recently, I made a decision to cut down on added sugar. Basically, that meant I’d still have my ketchup and salad dressing, but no “added sugar” or no dessert. I was actually doing pretty well and went for about a month with no sugary treats.

Then came our trip to Savannah, Georgia last week. Our church was extremely kind and gracious and provided the resources for my wife and I to take a short vacation in Savannah for a couple of days.

The city was beautiful and historic, and we enjoyed every minute. One of our “must do” things in Savannah was to visit The Lady and Sons restaurant owned by Ms. Butter and Sugar herself, Paula Dean. Our meals came with dessert. So, I was faced with a dilemma. I had been so good and gotten my 30-day sugar-free patch, but I could not rationalize being on vacation and passing up free dessert.

It turns out, the devil went down to Georgia—Savannah to be exact and invited me to dessert. Long story short, like a fallen soufflé I caved when I heard one of the desserts was peach cobbler— one of my favs. I quickly rationalized by saying, “Hey I’m on vacation” and “I’ll run it off anyway.”

The cobbler was warm and delicious. The first taste sent a chill down my spine and my body immediately reacted with pleasure. My breakup with sugar had led to a wonderful makeup. We were reunited and it felt so good.

Like a predator victoriously clutching its prey, I firmly grasped the bowl with one hand and my spoon in the other hovering over my bowl. Although I can’t be sure, I thought I heard the phrase, “My precious” come from my lips.

After finishing my cobbler, I helped my wife with her gooey butter cake. I had fallen off the wagon. I heard a dark, sinister laugh echo in the back on my mind and the phrase, “Welcome back.”

“It’s just one time,” I thought, “after this I’ll get back on track.”

The day before we left Savannah for Kansas City, we visited the Back in the Day Bakery for breakfast, a quaint and romantic little shop known for its pastry. I ordered a reasonable, simple breakfast, but then decided that my wife and I should split a cinnamon roll.

What could be more romantic than that? Again, I thought, “I’m on vacation.

Vacation calories don’t count. It was all downhill from there.

Later that night we visited the market by the river and the little shops all along the way. My favorites were the Savannah’s Candy Kitchen, where I purchased a dark chocolate praline, several truffles, and some peanut brittle. Then, we visited the famous Byrd’s Cookie’s where we bought a bag of chocolate chip cookies. The rails came off the track.

Back at the hotel that night, I reminded my wife, “Remember how much stuff we have to get on the plane tomorrow—no room for extra stuff.” She agreed. I continued, “We need to eat all this junk tonight because I don’t want to take it back.” My statement was meant to be a declaration that I was gonna kick the habit.

Unfortunately, it was also an invitation to gluttony. My wife refused the invitation. The feeding frenzy that followed was not pretty. Ravenous wolves devouring their prey would have been more reserved and respectable. There was chocolate, peanut brittle, and cookie crumb residue everywhere.

It’s doubtful that you would ever find me strung out in a gutter with a bottle of booze. That’s not my vice. But, on closer examination, that guy is a not-too -distant cousin.

For lying in the shadows next to him in a sugary stupor, you would find me, passed out, with a venti chocolate mocha in one hand and a dozen of Lamar’s best in the other.

I’ve always been impressed by people who had the self-control to eat half a cookie. I admire you, but I’ve found that it’s not me.

I don’t know what your vice is. I’m too busy dealing with mine. I try to spend more time looking in the mirror than out the window.

For me, the bottom line is self-control, which reveals some deeper struggles. Step one is recognizing the issue and being honest with myself and others. Step two is realizing that I am powerless to deal with the issue on my own and I need continual help from above and from others.

If I ever turn down a cookie it’s not because I am strong, but because I am weak. Maybe, one day, I’ll have to selfcontrol to eat just half. If you ever want to share your vice, you’ve got a friend in me.

Wayne Geiger is the Pastor of First Baptist Church Grain Valley, an Adjunct Associate Professor of Speech at Johnson Country Community College, and a freelance writer.