Obesity. It's become just about the biggest thing this country creates. Seriously, it is a growth industry and we are a bunch of fatrepreneurs.
Over 1/3 of the country is estimated to be obese to morbidly obese. It's not surprising. We love to indulge, we hate to deny ourselves anything, and we have corporations whose bottom lines are dependent upon increasing ours.
We don't fit into plane seats. Men look 20 months pregnant. Women look like manatees. Our children can't run a block without stopping to puke. And our collective health keeps falling while the numbers on the scale keep rising.
It is a shameful situation. The movie Wall-E looks more and more like foreshadowing every day.
I really do not have sympathy for people who shovel food into their maws nonstop. I don't. Being fat that way is a CHOICE. As much a choice as being a healthy weight.
Yes, I acknowledge there are physicological conditions which inhibit a person's ability to lose, cause a person to gain - but those are not the reasons for the lion's share of waddlers.
The main reasons are lack of self control and over indulgence.
Being profoundly overweight is dangerous to one's health. Just as dangerous as smoking, juggling sharks, or gargling with arsenic.
That is why it stymies me that so many people CHOOSE to be that way. To just give up. To grow sideways. To set that example for their children.
Everytime you reach for the bag of chips, gallon of ice cream, box of donuts, Frappucino, plate of goo covered nachos, third bottle of beer, Big Gulp, supersized fast food bag, candy bar, or bag of Cheez Doodles - YOU ARE MAKING A CHOICE.
And a statement.
The choice: Gain weight, gain more weight.
The statement: I really don't give a shit.
And I shouldn't either - after all, it is your choice to live that way, look that way, die that way.
But it does drive me nuts because personal responsibility is a big deal to me. And that choice is a drain on the healthcare finances in this country.
That's why I cannot say CONGRATULATIONS and smile at recently engaged Susanne Eman of Arizona.
Susanne weighs 800 pounds.
But that's not enough.
No, Susy is on a personal quest - like some fat knight of the overloaded round table - to be the fattest woman in the world. That will require an additional 400 pounds.
And she has found help (and love?) on her doublewide road to fame. Chef Patrick Clack - who is obviously a feeder.
Good for them. Seriously, if TRUE codependent fetishism love exists here - bully.
I still do not respect her choice. Regardless of how many yards of fabric she can brag are being used in her wedding shroud gown. Regardless of her current flirt with fame via international news stories. It is simply wrong.
She's turned her certain young death into a sporting event. The betting we can do is on if she reaches her target of 1200 pounds before her heart says FUCK YOU, or if she can even make it down the aisle on her oversized wheelchair.
People do work at their weight every day. It is hard work. It is frustrating. So much so that they rejoice when they convince the scale to even move a few ounces. Their commitment, their struggles, their successes - it's inspiring to watch. Hell, I inspire myself. I have to work at it every single day. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. It would so easy to just give in, say 'to hell with it', but I have more pride than that, I want to show my daughters the right way to take care of themselves, and I want my husband to still turn his head when I walk into a room. I want to LIVE my life fully, not compromised by how far I can walk, what medication I have to be tethered to.
Susanne - you are a failure. Plain and simple. And a personal affront to every overweight person I know who has dedicated their life to getting their life BACK. To wanting quality of life. To wanting to set a positive example for their children. You are offensive to every person who struggles with true medical issues who would desperately love to shed their unchosen cloak, but cannot.
And you are stupid.
Plain and simple.
Because you have a choice. A choice to live a normal life with a normal life expectancy. And you are choosing death by Pop Tart.
I just have to wonder, will the guests throw fried rice at your reception?