My grandfather never ate a leafy green vegetable in his life.
The only exercise he ever got was buffing and waxing the hallways
at the local high school where he worked for thirty years. He never
even heard of light beer. Nobody did.
Yet despite 40 years of diets and exercise his
progeny are heavier than ever. The British medical
journal the
Lancet, estimates that, based on
current trends in diet, nutrition, and exercise, half of Americans
will be obese by 2030.
We’re not just talking overweight here. We’re
talking about 200 million Americans zooming around in those
motorized shopping carts, causing eight-cart pile-ups in the frozen
foods section. We’re looking at an entire nation’s infrastructure
that will have to be rebuilt and reinforced because half the
population can’t make it up a flight of stairs — or will cause a
cave-in if they try.
Conservatives dislike talk about the so-called
obesity epidemic (especially from dentally challenged Brits at the
Lancet). In general, we do not think there is anything
wrong with our astounding national girth. In fact, we loudly
proclaim our right to be as rotund as we like, which is sort of
like being proud of one’s athlete’s foot.
Many conservatives object solely on the grounds that
Michelle Obama has taken up childhood obesity as her pet project.
They regard Mrs. Obama’s campaign as yet another encroachment of
the dread Nanny State. I can see their point. I have a mother. I
don’t need the First Lady telling me to eat my organic, locally
grown Brussels sprouts. Nor do we want Obama’s goons forcibly
herding us off to a fat camp for enjoying one too many chili
cheesedogs.
For many of us, life is not all that exciting. So
what if we cut our life span by 30 years in order to eat deep-dish
pizza for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? It’s our funeral. And
speaking of funerals, we are going to need twice the number of
pallbearers to carry our coffins.
Naturally, conservatives would reject any initiative
the First Lady undertook. If Mrs. Obama adopted Nancy Reagan’s
“Just Say No to Drugs” campaign, we’d immediately fire up a crack
pipe. If she took on Laura Bush’s literacy initiative, we’d burn
down our libraries, up to and including our Ann Coulter books, and
force our kids to watch more television. On the other hand, it’s
unlikely Mrs. Obama would take on those initiatives since they lack
adequate opportunity for social engineering. After all, the
government has already stuck its big nose into drugs and education,
so telling us what we can and can’t eat opens whole new avenues of
federal involvement. Control the food pyramid and you control the
world.
I suspect the real reason Mrs. Obama has started
this anti-obesity crusade is that big people tend to vote for small
government candidates. It’s no secret that the red states are by
far the heaviest. Mrs. Tolerance and Diversity, however, doesn’t
seem to have any tolerance left over for obese folks. She would
like nothing more than to purge the U.S. of all the fatties, until
there is no one left but granola crunchers and militant
vegans.
SOME TIME AGO a svelte Sarah Palin made headlines
when she reminded the First Lady that moms were quite capable of
feeding their kids without her help. She then went out and ate
fried butter on a stick at the Iowa state fair. Other Republicans
could pick up on this high-caloric strategy to score big-time
political points. GOP candidates should hit the campaign trail
(sans the trail mix) and gorge themselves on fried chicken
and cheesy mashed potatoes. Next time a candidate stops by a New
Hampshire diner, forget the black coffee, no cream. Order a couple
of slingers and a milk shake. I’m talking to you, Slim Romney. It’s
too bad big-boned New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie opted out of the
race. Now there’s a man Americans can relate too. Certainly Rick
Perry could stand to put on another twenty pounds. Michele Bachmann
has plenty of room in her trunk for a second helping. Ron Paul?
Somebody give that man a sandwich.
Come November 2012, the choice will be clear: a new
administration that knows how to enjoy a box of Krispy Kreme donuts
like us plain heavy-set folks, or four more years of some gaunt
ascetic demanding we give peas a chance.
