What’s The Big, Fat Greek Deal?

I don’t like fat people. I don’t like their collective attitudes. I don’t care for the fact that they just can’t shut their big, fat mouths and get off their asses for a change. No, I don’t want to accept them as a sub-culture. They are fat; not Irish, not gay, not Libertarian – fat.

Why are these people fat, anyhow? It’s glandular – yeah, okay, certain conditions, especially of the endocrine system, can contribute to excessive weight gain through the improper processing of nutrient intake, but, come on already. It’s not like these conditions can pop up overnight. Metabolic issues usually arise in early childhood and can be monitored, treated with medication, diet and exercise and moderated, if not abated.

I was a chunky child. They called my form “husky” in my day, which meant that I ate too many damned Scooter Pies. I like Scooter Pies, okay? I liked Fritos, Coke and Nilla Wafers and milk, too. And my parents were in the food business, so I got my fixes cost-free, baby. For my parents, European immigrant peasants who had made good in the Brave New World, it was all just baby fat. After all, my brother was the same way when he was a kid. And man-boobs, or should I say, boy-boobs, ran in the family, so, I’d grow out of it . . . no?

Yes and no. Lucky for me, I liked girls. After age eleven, I liked them more and more. And the less chunky I became, the more they liked me. Voila! So, I ate much less crap, got more active and got to a proper weight. I have pictures to prove it, too.

When I hear fat people excuse their fatness, I roll my eyes. “I was depressed over my divorce,” said one Super Chunker with whom I work. “I used to be into body building, ” and I see that she still is, only she seems to be going for quantity instead of quality. She’s huge. Lunch? Oh, yeah – don’t keep her from Gargulio’s Mega MeatWich Wednesday’s or you’re a dead man. “Hey, these things are six bucks and it’s a pound and a half . . . you can’t beat that!” Fine. Eat up. But when she starts breathing down my neck at work, OMFG, I just want to scream. Frankly, I’m afraid that she’ll fall over and that it will look like it’s my fault.

Now, there are many svelte and lean persons working at my company. They are all European – meaning that they’re here to work for a time and get some experience and then go home to their various lairs in Europe. Not a roll of fat between them. Not waif-thin, but really, looking fit. I ask – what is it that you do that us Americans don’t do. The answer is, almost universally, all things in moderation and we know when to stop. One of these narrow foreigners asked me, in all seriousness, whether the need for those awful chocolate pretzels is because a single taste at a time is too much of a time-waster for us Americans. Another question was this: “Why are you all so fat?” I promised him that there were thinner people in America, just, maybe, not around her, so much.

So, what’s the friggin’ problem? I watch what people buy for themselves at QuickChek as lunch and snack items. One can tell that this is the intent since the quantities are (laughably) singular – a sixteen ounce soda, a foot-long hero, a bag of chips, not the two ounce, either, a danish, giant-sized coffee with four sugars, oh, yeah, and a soft-baked pretzel for dessert. Fruit? Nope. Protein? Um, does pepperoni count? Fat – check. Carbs – triple check. The problem is that being fat is as easy as being the right weight but it seems that my countrymen where passing notes or winging spitballs during health class in high school instead of paying attention to the frickin’ Food Pyramid. And, I might add, they also missed math class, because, my fat friends, it’s all very simple and any doctor on the face of the planet will tell you the Great Weight Loss Secret, and you don’t have to buy my ebook to find this out.

Eat less. What you do eat, eat the right amount of what your body needs in terms of fulfilling your screaming chemicals, meaning, fruit, vegetables, protein, grains, always in proportion. Be more active. THAT’S IT! That’s all there is to it. There’s nothing more. You don’t need Hoodia. You don’t need motivation hypnosis. Shut your trap, eat a salad and get of your ass. The less calories you intake, the less you have to burn and the less unused calories will be turned to fat. Duh. The more active you are – that’s right, put down the remote and pay attention – the more calories you burn. If you burn more calories than you intake, your body will use up some of the fat stores to make up the difference. You will lose fat. By actually exercising, you will strengthen your vascular system, but, forgetting that since I could care less about your heart and lungs since I can’t see them, you will gain long muscle, too, which, in turn, will help maintain a more level usage of calories. Eventually, you will be your *correct* weight.

The key is that there’s nothing to sacrifice or to think about. Don’t drink 16 ounces of sugared soda a day and you cut 400 calories out of your diet. Don’t eat a danish every morning – I was at two hundred pounds once and simply stopped my favorite cheese morning danish and over the course of eight months, lost twenty pounds. Nothing else changed because it’s PLAIN LOGIC! Have a plain roll with a little butter – yes, you see, everything in proportion here – and, yes, have you coffee with a sugar and 2% milk or non-dairy creamer. Skip the sausage and the croissant because you’re sitting in an office of call center somewhere and you’re not burning calories, so you don’t have to eat like a friggin’ farmhand. And stop with the snacks. Just stop it, you fat bastard.

I now weigh 155 pounds. My doctor was worried that I was underweight at 150, so I put on some weight. For the last three month, I took in about 300 more calories a day. No, I wasn’t counting the calories, I just added one item, balanced protein, carbs and fat, because our bodies need all of those elements, and I gained the weight. Easy. Easy enough to lose it again, too, if I chose to. I know that when the warmer weather is really here, instead of the big tease it is in the NorthEast at the moment, I will have to up my intake again to compensate for the energy I’ll use mowing the lawn and so forth. I will listen to my body and give it just what it needs, not more. And my weight will be stable. I will not have to think about it, plan, categorize foods or anything else, because it’s a part of daily life.

In short, it’s just not that hard to not be fat. I puzzled over how chunky married couples manage to get their jollies as I just could not do it. And, I’m honest about it, too. My first wife was very nice when I met her and then, she bulked up. She had an excuse, too – ulcerative colitis that had her eating steroids like they were going out of style, but, she also was a Friend of Pringles and not just a few. At some point, well, it just wasn’t happening for me – sorry, G. I find it very uninspiring. And, listen here, if it hurts your collective feelings, hate me, but do something about it. It’s a self-induced disability and I don’t forgive you. Get your revenge by living well. God!

There is so much that can be done by so many. We don’t need a reality TV show to see how it’s done or to hear about the heartbreak of being a Porker. Put that shake down. Diabetes, heart disease, liver, kidney, prostate (for men) problems are all waiting for you at much increased levels and at a higher risk if you are a fatty. And, it’s gross. The fatter you are, the fewer clothes you can buy, the less sexy you are and the less sexy you will feel – that’s not my opinion but is in fact simple human physiology having to do with mating and reproduction, so, there.

If you decide to remain fat, and it is a decision, so please don’t f*cking lie to me because I ain’t buying it, please dress properly. No skin-tight synthetic fabrics, please, no, please. Forget about open shoes or sandals because it looks like you’re hopping around on two loaves of unbaked bread, okay? No Capris, no waist-huggers, as you have no waist, ‘k? Stripes will help, but, c’mon, there’s a limit. Don’t delude yourself into thinking a tanktini will slim you because that rising moon of a belly is going to pop out at some point and I don’t want to see it. And just so you don’t think I’m picking on the girls, let me say to the “Big Men” out there that you gotta get real. A paunch was the emblem of merchant aristocracy in the 1800’s, but not now. If you’re round, you’re gonna have to stick to the fat chicks, or worse, the crazy ones. Is that what you want? Don’t you want to be able to head over to Marshall’s and have your pick of easy-to-find fashions in a 32 waist? Don’t you want to feel sleek at the beach so that you actually can wear a Speedo and not look like a fat fool? 

I will repeat this for those not quite sure of what I’m getting at. Eat a balanced diet, no, but really. Cut out the processed sugars – no sugary soda, no bagels as big as your head. Eat what you need, not until you feel “full.” Get off your ass, walk around the parking lot for 15 minutes, as you aren’t eating so much, you’ll have that time to spare. Guys – get off your butts at home and do half the housework. Your wife will be shocked and you’ll have a cleaner house and she won’t be so tired, leading to more blowjobs, possibly, though I make no guarantees there. Climbs stairs, walk to the store instead of taking the car. Skip the danish. You will not only lose weight, and fat, mind you, but you won’t wheeze going up the stairs to your bedroom and you’ll have more energy at work, which will make your boss happy and you will glory in this phrase, “Hey, Frank, did you lose some weight? You’re looking pretty good.” Of, course, most guys would appreciate hearing, “Hey, how about a blowjob?” right after that, but let’s start off slowly, shall we?

It’s not that hard. It can take some time, maybe a year to see a real difference, if you’re doing it right. But once you’ve made the simple change of skipping that AM doughnut, all you have to do is set it and forget it and it will happen on its own, almost. And, please, look in the mirror before you go out – the Europeans are watching, and they’re laughing at us all.