Singing a new dieting tune

Carol Krogh may be tall and willowy now, but one of her most vivid memories as a teenager is being the girl who stood out in a crowd for all the wrong reasons.

Walking with her sisters and a group of teenage girls on Catalina Island one summer, she was approached by a group of boys. When the girls wouldn’t give them the time of day, one of the boys said, “That’s OK, we don’t want you anyway. Especially the fat, funny-looking one in the front.”

In her new book, “Confessions of a Dieter, Musical Scales,” the Costa Mesa author shares her lifelong struggle with eating and dieting, using humor and music to encourage fellow “foodies” and reassure them they are not alone.

Starting with 26 classic tunes she knew people would be familiar with, Krogh changed the lyrics to reflect her dieting experiences, assembled the songs and then wrote the chapters of the book around them.

Krogh said she isn’t a professional singer or musician, but the idea for the book came about because when she hears songs on the radio, she puts her own words to the melodies.

Words that for her, express what she is feeling at the time.

As a youngster, Krogh loved food, and would join her mom in the family kitchen every chance she got.

“Mom was a baker, and I would love to watch as she magically turned simple ingredients into our beloved traditional delicacies,” she said.

Krogh described herself as a big girl, a “full size 12” until she was 16.

She grew taller and thinner in the 10th grade, but her obsession with food continued.

She was always watching her weight in high school, trying any diet that came along, but the reality for her was that she loved to cook and had no discipline.

In her 20s, she began modeling, worsening a lifelong struggle with eating and dieting that would remain with her until she was faced with heart problems in her late 40s.

Krogh realized she was abusing her body and a light bulb went on.

Her focus shifted to taking care of herself in a healthy way, and she wanted to share what she had learned and experienced with dieters she believed suffered like she did.

With her book, Krogh also hoped to send a message to dieters that they shouldn’t take themselves too seriously.

“Dieting doesn’t work, and this book is a spoof of what that whole lifestyle is like,” she said.

Dieters struggle and Krogh wants them to know they’re not alone.

By sharing her “confessions,” and what worked for her, Krogh hopes dieters will be able to break the “up-and-down cycle” of dieting and eating.

For her, successful weight management is about behavior modification, taking care of yourself by eating healthy foods, exercising and singing.

Krogh wants her readers to feel “lighthearted” about dieting.

The last lines of the last song in the book remind them that there is much to be gained by belting out her tunes.

“Calories, calories, calories, calories. Burn them as we sing.”

‘Skinny People’

Sung to the melody of “My Darling Clementine”

 See the donut in the window.

Just a donut hole for me.

But my skinny friends love donuts,

And they order two or three.

Skinny people! Skinny people!

They have such an appetite!

How I hate them! Skinny people!

They eat everything in sight!

Cappuccino, Frappuccino.

Skinny people sip on these.

Though I’d love a cappuccino,

I’ll take black coffee, please.

Diet cookies are like cardboard!

But I eat them anyway.

Skinny friends eat chocolate brownies,

They eat brownies every day.

Repeat chorus.

Don’t you just love juicy burgers?

Skinny friends! They eat a ton.

When I order my small burger,

“Hold the mayo hold the bun.”

Skinny friends! They drive me crazy!

Yes, they drive me up a wall!

I eat one small piece of pizza,

Skinny friends! They eat them all!

Repeat chorus

‘CONFESSIONS OF A DIETER’

WHERE: Available in bookstores, or at www.tatepublishing.com. The book also contains instructions for obtaining a free download of the songs.

COST: $9.99

INFO: E-mail Carol Krogh at seekrogh@att.net

SUE THOENSEN may be reached at (714) 966-4627 or at sue.thoensen@latimes.com.