Good afternoon. On the 4:30PM out of the City and onward towards betted health. The NFI is four.
There have been a few FB comments about how I can be critical and derogatory towards the heavier set co-commuters that I get to travel with and observe. I say, yea, I am indeed critical, reflecting both an admonition of bad health decisions and my own challenges with weight.
I have been battling bulge since Y2K or so. I was always a pleasantly plump fellow, but well within medical norms. Nowadays I would need to give birth to a fully developed kindergartner to get to a reasonably healthy and sustainable weight.
It seems to me that a large (heh) number of my co-commuters could not care about weight, health and the public interest. I care very deeply about weight, as it is the last real physical constraint that I find holds me, and quite frankly society, back from longevity and excellence.
Take for example the female Robert Duvall impersonator sitting in the opposite jump seat. She is wearing a managers uniform from an international fast-food chain company. I can see that when she started in the Clown’s house, she was a lithe, red headed, average curved woman with a blood sugar level at baseline or below. I see a large woman who is sampling those golden brown potato-ish sticks that get left under the heat lamp as she berates (there’s the ate again) the skinny community college kids for not moving under ninety seconds as proscribed by the handbook. I’d like to se her try.
And what about the George Soros looking gentleman in the next seat over? I can’t help but think that under the layers of good cooking that he evidently is proud to have eaten, there isn’t a spiry, energetic, anxious, sixty-plus, 180lb billionaire ready to to battle with corrupt governments and social hypocracy. Break free, healthy Soros.
I’m tired of being nice to myself and to selectively (or is it electively?) overweight people. We know better. We want to be around as long as possible. Why do we continue to accept sedentary as the new active?
Don’t get me wrong. There are healthy people on the train. The hundred-and-four year old Don Knotts looking security officer is sitting in the jumpseat with me, asleep. He has a’70′s black sweater with the Security Officer badge embroidered on the sleeve. He is wearing a canvas, black colored utility vest. Big watch. Big headphones. He is a healthy guy.
I am going to the gym when I get off the train. I must show by example. The other bloggers and ethnographers in the car will say “Hey, obsessive-typing mujahadeen-looking dude has lost weight! Maybe I need to go do some push ups?!” Perhaps.
Also here are John Kerry, Emma Stone, Oliver Stone (no relation), Carlos Santana, and a very young Dame Maggie Smith. All are trim. All are armed.
Happy Tuesday. Safe Travels.