Eating the Experts

I eat out on the nights I attend classes at Chemeketa, usually at the strip mall on Lancaster where Pizza Hut used to be located. Being there often reminded me that Mom and I used to go there monthly to redeem my coupon for a free pizza, which I earned for reading a set amount of books at Gubser each month. I realized how unselfishly she would take me--and I don't even think she ever ordered anything, nor do I remember offering her any of my monthly prize. But it was good one-on-one time with mom, which I obviously still remember today.

I was reminded of this again yesterday, after reading an article in the Statesman (they have been giving us the paper free for some weeks now, totally unrequested and unwanted by me). Once again the experts have declared that our eating holes--and the giant corporations that make all our eating decisions for us--are the sole responsibility of obesity. Here are some excerpts from the article:

"The program is now under attack by child-development experts who say it promotes bad eating habits and turns teachers into corporate promoters."

". . . 'it promotes junk food consumption to a captive audience ... and undermines parents by positioning family visits to Pizza Hut as an integral component of raising literate children' . . .said Susan Linn, a Harvard psychologist and co-founder of the Campaign for a Commercial-Free Childhood."

What about exercise? What about genetics and heredity? What about that word of wisdom revelation? What about the rising trend of families choosing to completely book their lives around the clock with work and school and activities, which makes eating out the default choice for the majority of days? Once again, the experts are trying to move the blame of individuals and families to someone else (and it just so happens that the someone else has deep financial pockets--coincidence?). I give these experts three words: balance, simplify, moderation. I argue that these three simple words would solve the majority of the woes talked about.

For the record, I'm the king eater at our group-sponsored barbeques my we have on the veranda at work a few times a year (bi-weekly in the summer). I usually pile away four large sausage/bratwurst-type dogs. Maybe I should sue my employer for making me eat all of this rubbish, which is a type of reward they give to us for working hard (sarcasm, lest anyone misunderstand my tone).

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