"Life is a minestrone, served up with Parmesan cheese"
- 10cc
There is an epidemic lurking in the underbelly of America. And in the overbelly too, for that matter. And in the thighs. And in the hips.
Somewhere between "one served" and "Over 99 Billion Served," weight has become a national focus. Now, I like to hear my doctor say "healthy heart" as much as the next guy, but I also like to say "don't skimp on the bacon" and "damn right you can Super Size me."
In this weight-obsessed culture, I think it's time we appreciated the positive side of American obesity. Since we're all going that way in a generation or so anyway, we might as well embrace it with all the might our jiggling underarms can muster.
Happy, confidently fat people are the best people in the world anyway. Everyone has the fat relative who is the most congenial in the family. Your fat uncle is the most jovial man you know, isn't he? Just think: Would Santa Claus be nearly as great if he weren't fat? Of course not.
A fat man coming down your chimney to deliver presents? A merry Christmas to all and the epitome of good cheer. A skinny dude breaking in and eating your cookies? Larceny. A gangly, red-cloaked man who breaks into your home on Christmas and shouts "Ho-Ho-Ho" as he leers at your kids is not there to give toys.
Those of the music world have long been ardent artery-clogging activists as well. I mean, you didn't think The Band's "The Weight" was a metaphor did you? In the '90s, Sir Mix-A-Lot taught us a deeper appreciation of big butts. In the '80s, Spinal Tap bestowed upon us the adage, "the looser the waistband, the deeper the quicksand." In the '70s Queen mused that it was perhaps fat-bottomed girls that were making the rockin' world go 'round.
Think of a world where Meatloaf wasn't Meatloaf. What if he was Beetloaf? Or Spinach Dip? Would you be comfortable choosing "I Would Do Anything For Love" on your iPod if it was filed under Bean Sprout Salad?
And it wasn't just the total eclipse of Meatloaf's twinkie-laden heart that stood in defense of America's waistline. Comedy is just as allied to the bulbous as it is to justice. Such was Chris Farley's appeal. All of his characters were funny, even though they were always the same character, just played at different volumes. Fat was celebrated, not shunned. The nation embraced him for all that he was, from his movie roles to his fat rolls.
Even fatty foods in themselves are more comedic than health foods. When you want to throw something at the court jester for a laugh, you don't throw a Boca Burger, you throw a custard pie.
What it comes down to is that since we're not going to lighten our loads, we may as well lighten up about them. I'd rather go nuts every time it's $0.49 Cheeseburger Day at McDonalds and die at 80 than have edamame and Propel for lunch every day and die at 85. Now, I'm all for being healthy, I'm just saying that if your food pyramid includes a McNugget square, and you're cool with that, more power to you. It's called a Happy Meal for a reason.
We have a choice: We can be the nation of the bitterly obese or the nation of the pleasantly plump, chortlingly chubby and jovially jiggly.
Whichever path you choose though, don't sweat it. At the end of the day, you can always turn to Subway's Jared anyway.
Ari Goldberg is a senior majoring in history and can be reached at Ari.Goldberg@tufts.edu.
