This is just one man’s perspective of the social pressures surrounding obesity.
It is not meant to criticize or mock anybody.
Don’t take it personally.
Give Your Monster Another Cookie.
Like the nuns used to like to say in Grammar School:
“We have all have our crosses to bear in life.”
Some people walk around miserable just ’cause they like it…
But most of us have some little monster or other that walks around with us-
Clawin’ at our back….
….. constantly nagging at the back of our minds…..
Trying to get us to do something we know we shouldn’t.
Something that will keep us from being the person we want to be.
That monster might like booze…
…. or dope…
….. or clandestine rendevouses
(ummm… what is the plural for ‘rendevous’ anyway?)
with $10 chantoosies behind the Gas and Lube.
With me, it’s being lazy.
(that, and redheads)
If I gave in to that damnable little monster…..,
I’d be the laziest, fattest, pizza-eatenist redhead-crazy dumb meathead
(……….I’ll keep the redhead-crazy dumb meathead part, thanks…) on the planet!
I mean it.
Now, some of you might understand what I mean, and some of you won’t…
Because if you happen to be one of those people who couldn’t gain weight wearing a 75 pound backpack, (known in strength training circles as a ‘ectomorph’..) ,
…. you just wouldn’t understand how just lookin‘ at a piece of cheesecake can add 25 pounds of ugly spare tire to an already ample body.
But, if you do know what I mean, well, Buddy….. I feel your pain.
It ain’t easy – not being cheesy.
My daily diet (otherwise called by those who write nutrition books as ‘healthy lifestyle’) is a royal pain.
I spend three times the money, time and effort to consume 1/3 the amount of food everybody else on the planet seems to eat.
I have to eat when I’m not hungry, and not eat when I am.
My kid’s rabbit wouldn’t eat the greens I do…
Hell, some of my food couldn’t even be used as a secret ingredient on “Iron Chef” for chrissake…
………… and those guys’d cook with ANYTHING!.
It’s no wonder that some folks look for an easier way.
I have a good friend who weighs somewhere around 350 pounds.
(…..sort of like how Florida is ‘somewhere around’ Virginia.)
Now, this guy is a great cook…
……….and he makes stuff that’ll break your cotton pickin heart it’s so good.
He and his wife are Italian,
and their idea of celebrating is eating…
their idea of the good life is eating….
……… their idea of happiness is eating.
I can’t sit down and eat his food, I can only smell it and walk away….
………..it’s got butter, it’s got cream, it’s got duck’s liver, it’s got 2000 calories per tablespoon.
How in the world can anybody who can cook like that be expected to be thin?
But, therein lies the rub.
He wants to eat like Pavarotti, but wants to look like a 25 year old Frank Sinatra.
– – – – – – – – – – – – and, an ectomorph he ain’t.
OF COURSE, he don’t wanna work out either.
So, he’s decided to have a ‘surgical procedure’ done, called a “gastric bypass”.
It involves cutting him open, slicing his stomach, closing off the majority of it, and sewing a small remainder of it to his intestine.
After this heals (assuming it does) he will have only about 3 tablespoons of stomach capacity left with which to process food and nutrients——
Now, I don’t want to be a stick in the mud here, gang,
………but who the hell ever thought this kind of elective surgery was a good idea?
I know the idiom of ‘no pain-no gain’ is apparently passe and completely outdated, but this method of weight loss seems a little extreme-
—- even to a guy who complain incessantly about how much of a pain his ‘healthy lifestyle’ is.
‘Cause now that I think about it, it’s still better than putting my life and health in the hands of people who are only still ‘practicing’ medicine.
Call me when you’ve got it down to a science, fellas.
My generation, and my father’s generation before me, blindly trusted the medical establishment—and look at the results- the poor health of our citizens, the intolerably expensive state of the health care system, and the unavailability of health insurance for those who need it the most.
I’m gonna trust those money grubbin’ hacks to lay me down on a table and cut on my intestines ?????
Oh sure, — right after I ask Lorena Bobbitt if she wants to play with my cajones,
……..or Gary Glitter to be a counsellor at the annual Girl Scout jamboree…
……….or Brittany Spears to teach parenting skills,
……….. or Jane Fonda to sing the national anthem,
…………..or Ozzie Ozborne to dedicate the new museum at the Alamo,
………….. or O.J. Simpson to teach anger management…………
Man, talk about folks with their own private monsters… hoo boy.
Somehow we’ve gone from a society of independent, self-reliant can-doer’s to one
of co-dependent, get-somebody-to-do-it-for-me’s in the course of a few short decades.
Weight loss is a relatively simple equation of mathematics and physics: eat less, exercise more.
OH to be sure, I know HOW HARD that equation is to put into practice,
believe me – I KNOW.
Between the fast pace of modern life, the lack of nutrition education, fast food dumps on every corner, and the virtual unavailability of pure, unadulterated foods —
– – it’s a jungle out there.
But, make no mistake-
—- YOU CAN DO IT, if you want to.
The equation EAT LESS, EXERCISE MORE works.
Then, with a few refining touches, like:
eating carefully on a 40/40/20 plan,
varying your exercise plan to match your carb/protein intakes,
eating 5-6 smaller meals at the right times of day,
avoiding saturated fats, refined sugars and soy products, etc…..
you can make this equation much more efficient,
and start building lean, strong mass to improve the way you feel and the way you look….
Not just to others, but to yourself.
Not just FOR others, but FOR yourself.
Just start with EAT LESS, EXERCISE MORE.
——– OR, if you don’t want it that bad,
Just give your monster another cookie, and BE CONTENT !
Weight does not determine who you are.
So, If you’re happy, I’m happy.
And I’m not the one who counts, anyway.
It’s all about YOU.
If you know you’re sexy, you are sexy.
If you know you’re beautiful, you are beautiful.
Take it from Cookie Monster himself.
There’s nothing more appealing and attractive than a confident, well-adjusted, non-surgically altered, blue furry monster full of enthusiasm and joie de vive —
……. googley eyes or no.
As Gracie Slick and the Jefferson Airplane put it way back when in 1968:
“You’re only pretty as you feel.”