Taking stands on scales

Have you stood on a scale lately? Hmm, I didn’t think so. Why ruin a perfectly good start to 2007? Evidently, weighing‑in has become one of the most dreaded fears in America, right behind public speaking and having a heat attack. It seems the average adult gains about five pounds over the holidays. No wonder we’re a country known for its plus‑size folks. Those five little pounds can add up in a hurry.

Speaking of fat, a few skinny researchers claim that 77 percent of all American adults are overweight. Worse, about 40 percent of all children could drop a few pounds. The “diet industry” may be the biggest multi‑billion dollar business in this country. It seems everyone is looking for creative ways to lose the flab. Now, there’s a new product, which are pseudo fat balls. We can carry these gross little pouches around in our pockets as a reminder of what fat feels like, so we’ll eat less. Is that the stupidest idea yet?

Maybe we don’t need pseudo fat balls to rub when we’re hungry. We have enough of the real fat. In the gimmicks of diets, what will be next? A refrigerator that slaps us when we open it more than twice a day? A scale that scolds us when we stand on it? A mirror that talks back and calls us mean names? There has to be a better way.

Some whacko (oops, I mean researcher), has now claimed that the way to lose weight is by eating all of the same flavored food in one day. His research shows that mixing up flavors causes our taste buds to go into high gear, leading to cravings and overeating. Monday could be “apple day,” and everything you eat must be apple‑flavored. Tuesday might be “carrot day,” so all things eaten must be carrot‑flavored. Well fine, I’ll have “chocolate day” seven days in a row. Sounds like this doctor has had too many “nut” days.

If Americans are too fat, then maybe that explains why those extremely malnourished women called movie stars are considered royalty. They have accomplished something that the masses cannot–terminal thinness. Bones jutting out of hips and shoulders, hollow‑looking eyes, thighs the size of pencils, these girls need a good meal. Quick, throw them a steak. One of these skinny celebrities proudly claims that her seven‑year‑old daughter has never had juice, fast food, carbohydrates or sugar–evidently the evils of our universe. Mama knows best and evidently food is bad for future fame.

I hate all the advice about exercise, since we all know that anything that makes you sweat can’t be that good. I’d rather starve than run around the block, which is not a very “heart‑healthy” attitude. Riding horses, shoveling manure, pushing wheel barrels, and chasing grandkids doesn’t seem to qualify for an exercise program. Oh, and I am taking up golf. Certainly that must count for something. Why bother with a treadmill?

 My sister‑in‑law says that Tina Turner gets her beautiful legs by walking uphill on a treadmill everyday. She says all women over forty ought to do the same. She’s probably right, but how many women will ever have legs like the fabulous Ms. Turner? Why set such an unachievable goal in front of yourself, only to be depressed in the end? Better to have realistic expectations and forget about exercise.

Oops, now I’ve said it. The e‑mails will be coming in fast and furious, telling me how exercise is the foundation of a healthy life. Even my family physician will call me, asking me to retract my words about treadmills, to admit that exercise is good. Well, I’m not going to do it. But I am thinking about having a “Margarita and Chips Day,” followed by an “Ice Cream Day.” I will, however, recommend that we all listen to Tina Turner–while we eat.