It's Bad to Be Fat

It's bad to be fat. It's bad for your body.

Agreement, so far? We all know this. The medical community is pretty much solidly behind the idea.

Big guy. 

But in a world in which the the popular concept of "freedom" is that nothing is wrong and that nothing that can be considered "offensive" can be said, one has to -- unless he is wearing a lab coat -- be careful about saying that it is bad to be fat. (Not only that, but a word other than "fat" needs to be used...)

One might, heaven forbid, become a "body-shamer."

So, obesity, slowly but surely, has become "curvy" and women have started to "own" their obesity -- to strut their obesity. No one is allowed to say anything, because it is okay to be "big and beautiful."

Sure it is okay. As long as you don't want to live a long and active life. As long as you don't mind little diabetic inconveniences, later in life, like blindness and amputations. As long as you are cool with a fatal myocardial infarction at forty-five. Sure -- go ahead. Be big and beautiful. And you can be beautiful at any weight; it's just not good for you. If you can be fat and beautiful but still be beautiful if you are thin, the logical choice is to be thin and beautiful, for you. It ain't easy, but it does make sense.

We a culture of extremes; of the proverbial pendulum. A normal woman of average weight is "plus-sized" in the modeling world and a woman who is morbidly obese is "curvy" in popular discourse. Sophia Loren is curvy. Melissa McCarthy is obese. Sophia, as far as I know, remains healthy in her eighties. Melissa might not be so lucky -- though I hope she lives to be a hundred, God-willing.

And guys? The "dad-bod" is now, according to the media, officially "in." I hear men saying, I'm a "big guy." But I would argue that while Liam Neeson, at 6'4and about 225, is a "big guy," John Candy was fat -- and how I miss him; maybe my favorite comic actor of all time.

Of course, I am not suggesting that we go around telling people how fat they are, but that we should stop teaching our children, by tip-toeing examples born out of a collective social desire to make everyone feel perfect, that all of the pressure is off when it comes to body size.

Obese guy. 

Anorexia and bulimia are still horrifyingly prevalent problems, especially for young women, but for men, too. For God's sake, lets get the message out that your average American woman is in the 160s, not in the 120s. Let's get the impossible role models in check; let's get the word out that 140 is plenty sexy. But let's not send the message that obesity is a good choice.

As with everything, balance is the key: let's not encourage obesity and let's not set impossible expectations of skinniness. Can we do this? Fat is fat. and it just is not good for your body.

I and mine have worked hard to fight being fat for as long as I can remember. For me it is a quest meant to help me, when I am older, to "go down standin' up." I want to be strong as long as I can. Sure, I think I look much better at 205 than I do at 240, but there's stuff that is more important than that. And I can't stand by and watch my sons eat themselves into bad health. It has to be about facts; not image. It has to be about logic and not emotion.

If we can't be honest, the Utopia of Non-Offense that we are trying to create is worthless.

Who's the Fat Guy Wearing My Hat?

I have no doubt that obese people know that they are obese. When one is obese, one finds it hard to breathe or to put on one’s own shoes. One doesn’t fit into roller-coaster seats – that sort of thing. But, sometimes, I look at chubby people and I wonder if they know they are chubby.

The reason I wonder this is because I know I have a pretty inaccurate concept of how I look, at times. Apparently, I have a lean mind. In my head, I look a particular way. But, sometimes, I will catch a glimpse of myself in a convenience store video monitor or I will see my reflection in a display case and I will wonder, for a moment, when the hell I put on those extra pounds. Who’s the fat guy wearing my hat?

I am in the socially fortunate but medically unfortunate position of being perceived favorably when I gain weight. People routinely ask me if I have been lifting weights when I put on a few. So, you can see how I sort of get lead into a leaner perception of myself than is, strictly speaking, accurate.

From "Wackiki Wabbit," Warner Bros, 1943

Even when I am at my thinnest, I’m always fighting a battle. I keep myself under control, but my “fightin’ weight” is about twenty pounds below where I am now. So, I empathize with those struggling with their blubberosity; I’ve been doing it for years.

But, the other day, I was in a store and I saw a chubby guy. He was decked-out stylishly. He carried himself with a swagger. His hair, not unlike some werewolves in London, was perfect. For some reason, I almost asked him if he knows he is chubby. I resisted, ever the consummate gentledude.