www.gay-sd.com ADVICE FROM THE


to my hurt, my older sibling— through no fault of her own—was a slim but curvaceous, beautiful woman.


After my mother discovered


my God-given musical talent, she eased off on some of the put- downs, but pushed me into the musical world with such force that I continued along my carbo-loading path, which went directly to the region around my golden diaphragm. It didn’t ease


my stress when I was in Venice singing my heart out as Brünnhilde in Wagner’s


With Maria Callas (As channeled through Gay


San Diego’s resident medium, Cuauhtémoc Kish)


Dear Maria,


I’m a high-fem lesbian in a committed relationship and I’m getting an itch. My partner, Geor- gina (a.k.a. George), is a truck driver and cusses like one. That’s okay with me because there’s nothing like a dyke in dungarees and a plaid shirt to turn me on, preferably with scuffed and mud- died boots (I’m getting the hornys as I write this). Okay, I like a bit of meat on the bones, but George has packed on an additional 75 pounds since we tied the knot sev- en years ago on a camping trip. I control her diet and make her work out when she’s at home, but when George is hauling freight, she’s just plain lazy about her food choices, refueling at every greasy spoon with a flirtatious waitress and a full pot of coffee. What can I do to get my brawny gal to cut the carbs? —Wanting Less Of My Wife


Dear Wanting Less, As the greatest operatic


sopranos who ever lived, and one who lost 80 pounds, I know it can be done.


Even though I was well-over 90 kilos—it’s less daunting count- ing your weight in kilos—I was in total denial until a “friend” called me out on the extra pounds (I believe he used the words “mon- strously fat”). After he called my bluff—as I was enjoying a lovely, high-caloric lunch—I weighed in on the livestock scale outside an upscale Parisian restaurant. As I placed my high-heeled shoes on the scale the skies above opened up and a deadpan voice com- manded, “Diet, diva, diet”—and so I did. I quickly began to embrace a menu consisting largely of bloody, raw meat and a few leafy greens. It’s this boring combina- tion of food that really gave way to my temperamental nature, but it also kept the pounds off (via a friendly little tapeworm writhing inside a bite of my steak tartare— yum!)


I don’t know about your


George, but my weight problems can be traced to a mother who called me an ugly duckling—and worse—to my face. Every time she called me such names I sought the solace and comfort of sugar-dusted cookies, crumb cakes and spoonfuls of vanilla butter-cream frosting. Adding


“Die Walküre” and Maestro Serafin asked me to sing Elvira from Bellini’s “I Puritani”


(filling in for


an ill Margher- ita Carosio). I mean, they’re two totally


divergent musical pieces with distinct vocal demands! Does your


George, per- haps,


HUMOR


like to sing? If you buy her some George Strait or Hank Williams CDs there just might be more singing, and less snacking behind the wheel. And it wouldn’t hurt George to play a few songs that demonstrate my bel canto technique while she’s moving on down the highway. Not only will it take her


August 13-August 26, 2010 GAY SAN DIEGO


13


For every three-pound loss, offer a special reward, per- haps a new pair of Timber- land boots and a matching belt that’s three waist sizes too small, as incentive.


breath away, it will also take her appetite away. The music of Maria Callas will be all the sustenance she needs.


But do be careful what you


wish for, Wanting Less. I have to admit, after I lost the weight I had some difficulty hitting the lower registers, even though my stac- cato trills seemed easier to reach. There are always trade-offs—and you definitely don’t want her to lose her knack for hitting that lower register, if you catch my drift.


My dear friend Aristotle


Onassis helped me stay svelte by showering me with valuable trinkets, even after he purchased the former U.S. first lady as his trophy wife, which I made him regret until the day he died! I must confess, however, that I learned from Jackie the invaluable slimming chicanery of draping oneself in dreary black frocks.


Simply put,


George needs to fo- cus on your relation- ship and not triple cheese burgers, so adorn her cab with


provocative photos of yourself. Additionally, I recommend post- ing a few photos of you and her together before her freight, I mean, weight gain—a subliminal suggestion of healthier, happier times.


Next, set up a rewards sys-


tem. For every three-pound loss, offer a special reward, perhaps a new pair of Timberland boots and a matching belt that’s three waist sizes too small, as incentive. Most importantly, pack her lunch pail with healthy treats— unsalted nuts and dried berries, for example—to help stave off her rampant hunger for fried foods and pie a la mode. Place love notes inside her lunch box, with a promise that when the tin is empty, you’ll replace it with a more savory box, the next time she backs into your driveway. Very cordially,


Maria Callas


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