Somewhere out there is the diet secret of all diet secrets. You know the one I mean, the one that says "Eat all you want of whatever you want as often as you want and never have to exercise or even think about dieting!"

I need that diet. Not that I'm not already in great shape for someone as out-of-shape as I am. My belly paunch barely overhangs my belt and my chins are still firm and tight. But a great body like mine needs a lot of work to maintain.

Up at the crack of noon for a rigorous program of aerobics. Or more specificly a TV program of rigorous aerobics while I do deep-elbow bends bringing Twinkies from plate to mouth. Then a cool down period for crumb searching and body scratching before I head on to the more strenuous exercise of trying to find a pair of pants that still fit.

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But with this super-secret diet secret, I can eat anything I want. I can exercise only when I feel like it.

Okay, I already eat whatever I want and exercise only when I feel like it. But this diet would make it guilt-free. Not fat free. Not salt free. Not preservative free. GUILT free.

Wouldn't that be great? The Holy Grail of diets. A diet so great that rock stars and supermodels would line up outside my door, begging to get the information.

Knock knock knock. "Mister Pence, are you at home? We have the President of the United States out here, he'd like to have a word with you." Pause. "Mister Pence?" Pause. "The President wants to know if you'd like your face on Mount Rushmore, Mister Pence."

"Mister Pence, we know you're in there, our ATF goons saw you disposing of your Twinkies wrappers. Tell you what, Mister Pence, if you decide you want to speak to the President, we'll leave his card on this pile of rubies next to the door. We have to go now, there are too many sports stars out here for us to feel safe, but you give us a call. We'll make it worth your while." Pause. "Would you like Hawaii, Mister Pence?"

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But would I share that secret if it existed? Of course not. Look at the parallels. If there was really a way to make big money in my sleep at home with no envelope stuffing, I wouldn't tell anyone because too many people trying to get the same high-pay low-work job. This would flood the job market and I'd be earning the same thing as everyone else who sleeps. Zip. I certainly wouldn't advertise it on television. If I had the secret to immortality, I wouldn't share it, would you? Of course not. We both know better than to crowd the world full of immortal people who aren't me.

So that's what's going on with the super secret diet secret. That diet is in the hands of some greedy, selfish, skinny person who won't share it with me. Someone who has to be hunted down like a rabid dog and dragged out into the streets and be made to tell us the secret... uh... me the secret.

After all, we BOTH know I can keep a secret safe.

About the author, Paul Pence: Not a life-long Rhode Islander, Paul got to Rhode Island as fast as he could. He has 25 years of writing experience and numerous publication credits including the Providence Journal, the East Greenwich Magazine, Weissmann Travel Reports, Travel Lady Magazine, Jackhammer, Your Skin and Sun, TravelNotes, TexWoman, and many others.

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