The Fat’s in the Fire
It came as no surprise to me that the tourists with the broadest bottoms were seen on a trip to Hershey, Pennsylvania, some years ago. How many chocolate bars were eaten to produce those gargantuan hips and thighs? Those people must have taken some sort of vehicles to reach the place, yet how could they have crammed themselves into any kind of car, bus, train or plane seat to accommodate all of that “too, too solid flesh”? Obviously, they could not have walked the distance.
All kinds of questions come to mind as I look with astonishment at our obese population. Many of these persons come in pairs, some even in families. Where did this fat, fat woman in the purple pants (one can’t call them “slacks”) find her true love – the man in the tight-fitting madras shorts? And how did they unite in parenthood? Best not to dwell on such thoughts. Better yet, one must avoid mentally undressing them.
One might think that outsize folk would feel self-conscious about their looks. Not at all. Is it insensitivity or just plain boldness that makes some huge women ignore a dressing alcove to change their clothes before or after using a swimming pool? As I write this, it occurs to me that the cubicles would probably be too tight a fit. I apologize, ladies. Nevertheless it seems to me that larger towels could be used with more effect and turning bellies and bozooms towards the wall might be a baby step in the direction of modesty.
You may be right in calling me a neurotic, super modest person. As one who fits in the size category of “petite large” (there’s an oxymoron), I am hardly a treat to look at. Compared with some, I am positively rail thin, yet I don’t want to be seen undressed, nor do I want to look at others.
A few years ago an obese person would stand out in a crowd. Now they’re everywhere. Unfortunately, many of the women are shockingly young and they’re often accompanied by fat little children. Could she, as a toddler, have been as sphere-shaped as her child? Or did those layers of lard envelope her slowly?
The other day while browsing through the latest TV reality shows, I came across a program titled “The Biggest Loser.” Here at last obesity comes into full bloom – and I mean full. If you weigh 500 pounds or even more here is your chance to bare your soul and body. Each week these elephant-sized contestants undergo a brutally punishing course of exercise. The floors of the exercise room must be awash with sweat. No, it’s not a pretty sight. (Or smell.)
The climax of the show is the weigh-in. If you go in for king-sized drama this is it. For the winner there is the joy of shedding mountains of flab and gaining a financial reward. The also-rans look on with envy and pray to be the star on the next week’s contest. All in all, it’s on an emotional par with the Oscar awards.
What happens, I wonder, when all that flesh is melted away? There must be yards and yards of extra skin flapping about. When the trainers are through, call in the plastic surgeons.
Of course, this whole un-natural situation could be avoided with just a bit of education about nutrition. But that would be too easy a solution.
Future visitors to Hershey Park may have a leaner look if in the schools the kids are learning “food ed” instead of “sex ed.”