Food Fascists

(Take a deep breath Dave …)

If I had made a New Year’s resolution to give up being a grumpy old git who ranted for England, then I would have failed miserably.

I strive for happiness, dear reader, I truly do, but fate and the petty minded idiocy of people turns on the red mist machine and I find myself trapped in an incredulous rant.

I say again – maybe it is the cold winter months in Britain that aggravate the situation – but I’m not so sure.

“What has pushed your buttons this time?” I hear you cry.

The answer is; an email at work.

I won’t reproduce the email but the gist of it is:

It has been suggested that we get some vending machines but there are some people who think it will encourage unhealthy eating. So instead of getting them, we are going to put it to the vote. Please reply with “Yes” if you want a vending machine or “No” if you don’t.

Where do I begin with why this pissed me off so much?

First of all, let me just say that as far as vending machines are concerned, I can take them or leave them. I usually take enough food with me to work to get me through the day; usually a couple of sandwiches, a couple of apples, a banana, some cherry tomatoes and perhaps a couple of plums, nectarines or peaches.

Also, it is a tradition at work that when you celebrate a birthday, you bring in some treats for your co-workers, usually in the form of chocolates, cakes or whatever takes your fancy.

So why I am I so bloody annoyed about this email?

I'll tell you why. It's because there are a few people in my company who think that they can control those others who want a vending machine because of the stupid belief that a vending machine will encourage you to eat crisps, sweets, chocolates etc. and ultimately become a bloated monster unable to crowbar your blubbery body through the door.

What right have these people got to dictate what other people eat?

Why the flump should they care about a bloody vending machine?

Should we ban people from bringing treats in on their birthday for the co-workers to enjoy?

If the folks on my table want to eat crisps, doughnuts, cakes, bacon sandwiches or sweets then that is entirely up to them.

The worst thing, the thing that really winds me up, is that these people do not even know what is being sold in the bloody vending machine. It could be tea, coffee, soup or sandwiches. Vending machines sell a variety of wares.

“Oh – it’s a vending machine so it’s crisps, pop, sweets and blubber in a box. It will turn us all into fat bastards!”

I blame the "State of Fear".

My own television tells me of an obesity epidemic in Britain with people growing fatter every second of the day and making us the laughing stock of Europe. They show pictures of fat people walking around towns and cities, their bits wobbling menacingly towards the camera with the hidden message: “It’s an illness and one day you, dear everyday Brit, will succumb and spend the whole day eating burgers, cakes and chocolate until your trousers give up in shock and your blubber escapes for the whole world to see.”

And not content with targetting fat adults, it seems that they want to step up a gear with horrific statistics about children being obese. And, yes, they show fat kids wobbling to school just to illustrate the point.

The people who say things like “We don’t want vending machines because it will turn you all into hippopotami.” have just been brainwashed by the fear of a state of obesity.

Are we all school children for flump’s sake?

Can’t we make our own decisions about whether we want to stuff our faces with crisps from a vending machine? Or a bloody supermarket?

The truth is that if you are the kind of person who’s massive bulk is due to eating cakes, crisps and chips then you will bring all manner of unhealthy food into work anyway. Surely it is up to the person concerned what he bloody well eats.

I mean, what next?

Should fat people be banned from supermarkets in case they buy high calorie food?

Should supermarkets stop selling chocolate, doughnuts and cakes to people because they are unhealthy?

Should we close all fish and chip shops in the UK?

It makes me sick that people preach to me about how I should live my life, what I should eat and what I should drink, just because of their own silly views, their own perception of what the news and media are saying about obesity and (this is the thing that really annoys me) their own desire to control me in some subtle way,

I am not going to stuff my face and become a bloater; my kids haven’t and didn’t and most people eat what they bloody well like anyway, whether it be a supremely healthy diet or a normal balanced diet with the odd cake as a naughty treat.

I say to you people:

“Sod off! If I want a bag of crisps from a vending machine I will buy one. I will not come and ask your permission and I will call you a fool if you accuse me of eating in an unhealthy way.”

Guess which way I voted, dear reader?

Yes, that’s right. I voted for a vending machine.

Just to piss off these subtle dictators.

And when we get one I will enjoy every bag of crisps I buy from it (however occasional they are).

Rant over.

Hey Fatty Bum Bum

I am not obese – but I could be in the year 2030.

Experts have been hurling statistics at us again, this time terrifying the population of the United Kingdom with the horrific news that 40% of all people will be obese by the year 2030.

Think about that for a second; four out of every ten people living in the United Kingdom will be obese.

They won’t just be slightly overweight.

They won’t just be overweight.

They won’t be “pleasantly plump”.

They will be obese – they will be walking barrels of blubber – they will make elephants look skinny.

I can’t decide whether these experts who have come up with these figures have made a mistake or whether they are basing their figures on current trends.

Either way, it is enough to make a Daily Mail reader run around screaming “We’re all going to die,” or a Daily Express reader run around screaming “Where’s Princess Diana when you need her?”

When I heard this, I was intrigued. What does “obese” actually mean?

I have taken a risk looking this up because I am a bit of a hypochondriac (you can read about it here) and to look up the medical definition may involve accidentally spotting symptoms for an awful disease.

Thankfully I came across a BMI calculator and decided to work out just how fat I actually am.

I am 5 feet 11 inches tall and I weigh 13 stones 6 pounds (188 pounds). This gives me a BMI of 25.8 which is (as I already knew) slightly overweight.

Thankfully it is not massively overweight and I can reach a healthy BMI (24.9) if I lose 7 pounds.

If I were to suddenly decide to eat utter junk, on the other hand, I would reach obesity by increasing my weight to 15 stones 10 pounds (220 pounds) and attaining a BMI of 30.

Losing 7 pounds seems to be a good target to aim for and achievable for somebody like me. Gaining 31 pounds seems like madness but with a little effort it is not beyond the realms of possibility should I suddenly become possessed by an insane urge to swell my gut so big that I lose sight of my genitalia.

The problem is that it is easier to gain weight than lose weight and with all the cheap junk food available in Britain at the moment, I can see why experts are becoming concerned.

Mrs PM is very conscious of her weight and she nestles nicely in the “normal” BMI range. She is careful what she eats and, consequently, I am too by association. We eat a varied but healthy diet, punctuated by the odd mad over-indulgence, usually at the weekend and usually involving (in my case) bacon, sausage, cheese and beer.

Abstaining from such foodstuffs would see my weight drop and I have the willpower to do that (providing I can fight the urge to kill people at work and eat comfort food to console myself).

Sadly there are people who seem not to care; and I can see how experts think we are drifting towards the obesity levels of the United States. We are already the fattest nation in Europe, according to some reports.

I have seen some enormous people in my time. On a business trip to Atlanta in the US, I decided to go for a walk around the city centre and spied an enormous beast of a man. He was huge. Each leg was like a tree trunk swathed in blubber; people like that should not be allowed to wear shorts by law. His T-shirt was so big it could have housed a family of rhinos. His face was so podgy that I could barely see his eyes.

And guess what? He was eating an enormous burger.

I wondered how somebody could grow that big and then I had, what I thought, was a small lunch. There was enough food to feed a family of six and I had to leave most of it.

Back in the UK, restaurants don’t tend to serve enormous portions of food. But junk food is ubiquitous with KFC, Burger King, McDonald’s etc. on every corner. 

And the worst food is quite cheap. Supermarkets sell pizzas for next to nothing. It is cheaper to buy junk food than good food.

Take last week for example. It was my turn to do the weekly shop and I found myself at the checkout behind a reasonably large lady; she wasn’t fat but she wasn’t thin at all. In her shopping trolley she had cakes, chocolates, pizzas and all manner of food that might transport her and her family safely down the road to Plump City. She may have heard the news about obesity because it looked like she was taking steps – she had bought a load of low fat yoghurts.

I wondered about that. Why not just put back the cakes and chocolate and buy some fruit? Why not pop back the pizzas and buy some fish and some vegetables?

Perhaps she was just making a start.

After all, every little helps, so they say.

My immediate aim, knowing that I am fairly close to achieving a normal BMI is to grab my willpower and cut the crap for a week or two or three.

Sadly, given my plans for September, that might not be so easy – but if I cut down on cakes, chocolate, burgers, pizza, deep fried chicken and chips I might stand a chance. It’s just a shame I don’t normally eat any of them.

Oh well, bye bye bacon, sayonara sausages and ciao cheese – at least for a week or two.

Beer? That too – maybe*

*The Plastic Mancunian reserves the right to tell lies!