Obesity and the American obsession with “food”.

I know I am just cribbing my own comment posted on Babble, but I thought it merited being posted here. The question of obesity and the American obsession with food is something I cannot get over. In this case, Bloomberg, our mayor, feels that banning super sized sodas will cure obesity. Although, I agree with comments on Babble that say this is not the solution, I do not agree with the why. Our nation’s obesity does not derive from the consumption of a particular product or the lack of self control, but a fundamentally flawed approach to food.

Here is the link to the story/post: http://blogs.babble.com/babble-voices/good-enough-is-perfect-rene-syler/2012/06/01/the-slippery-sugary-slope/

And here is my comment for what it’s worth. I could say much more, but this sums it up:

“I find the collective American obsession with food fascinating. It is the only country on earth with such a sick and twisted relationship with food. Diets. Low this low that. Ban this ban that. Women (and worse young girls) who feel the need to poke at food with a look of disgust on their face as if it was their worst enemy. So many reasons for this perverse way of relating to and consuming food, but first and foremost is the fact that we are never humble enough as a nation to look beyond our borders to see how other cultures relate to food. Food is about family, it is about gathering around a table convivially, cooking a meal and eating it together, spending time together and talking to each other face-to-face. The health aspect is a fortuitous consequence that works better in some cultures than others, but regardless it is secondary to what food is about even in countries where it is abundant. When children grow up in a culture that relates to the food on the social and not biological level it makes them happier and healthier. The kicker is that we are one of the most multicultural nations in the word – with the best of the world cultures to draw from at our finger tips – and we can’t even be bothered. Sad really.

And to the point about prohibition, it still very much exists in this country. The absurd law that makes alcohol illegal for those under the age of 21 makes it all the more desirable for the most gullible, easily influenced and immature demographics. They can’t have it and unlike in other cultures it is not part of a controlled and pleasant communal activity such as “a glass of wine with your dinner”, it is just forbidden because no one (just like with food) knows how to integrate it culturally as something to be enjoyed and not abused – and that is why it is a problem in this country and not in others. But that is a whole other post…”


Enjoy the silence…

I know. Depeche Mode wrote that about teen angst relationship stuff, but here I am past midnight enjoying it – immensely. I have not been able to sit down for two seconds to write anything down in the past few months – not even by locking myself in the bathroom (that actually makes it worse because the banging is even more nerve racking). Sure, I was warned, but this is something else. I don’t mind the having to change diapers again for the little one or the loads of laundry due to the tail end of potting training for the older one. I can handle the “stop touching your brother” and “don’t give that to him he will choke… and stop laughing it’s not funny!” or “how many times do I have to tell you not to (fill in the blank with pretty much anything a toddler could do)!” and my favorite from the adults “do you know what YOUR son did?!” I can take all of that because somehow I expected it from hearing other parents and from watching lots and lots of Bill Cosby. What I cannot take is the incessant cacophony of screaming and crying and yelling and singing (although closer to screaming) and the “daaaaaady can you (fill in the blank with anything)?!”

I used to hear myself think. Even after my first son was born. There were moments in which I could contemplate and knit my brow while reading, surfing the net or just thinking. I miss it terribly. I crave it. I dare say I need it!

I’ve been reduced to a bumbling fool by a 6 month old and a 3.5 year old.

I envy Homer Simpson.

OK. Back to enjoying the silence.

WTF are you looking at?!

So my son is having a full-blown tantrum, what exactly is your problem? I am talking to you old lady. The one shaking her head with that “Oh dear!” look on her face. This is what kids do. Do you think I am enjoying myself? Picking up boxes of cereal off the supermarket floor, or worse splattered produce, is not something I asked for when I walked in with my kid. Listen Blondie. Just wait until you get knocked up and you find burp stains all over that pretty blouse. Think about that while you roll your eyes at me from behind those oversized sunglasses. Am I happy that he keeps pulling up and down the tray table a thousand times before take-off? Of course not, but I am not sure that stuffing him in the overhead bin would stop him from screaming. And yes, I do realize that this business trip you are on, Sir, is considered a vacation from your family, but such is life with a kid (you of all people should know!). Whatever you are thinking in your head is the solution (spanking, reasoning, punishing, pleading…) keep it to yourself because you obviously don’t get it. It’s just not that simple. That’s parenthood and sometimes it just plain sucks. Like right now when my son is spread eagle in the middle of the street kicking and screaming. I deal with it and frankly so should you.

Dude. Really?! The lifeguard?!

Why does my kid listen to the old lady in the elevator and completely ignores me? That’s more of a rhetorical question in parenthood, but one that I am currently asking often – too often in fact. It’s not so much the ignoring me part because I have learned very quickly that it comes with the territory. It’s the same behavior that the grandparents all react to with the same disdain as they shake their heads and pedantically (petulantly?) state their favorite phrase, “When you were kids you never acted this way…” (yeah right!). Usually this is said over your shoulder as you try to control your kid and his latest rebellious act. It reminds me of my fraternity days when my spite for all that I had to go through when pledging was reversed back onto the new pledges with cutting sarcasm and a heavy dose of jeering at their helplessness and ineptitude – very constructive. Much like kicking someone when they are down except that this is your own flesh and blood doing it to you. But I digress.

Last summer we struggled to get my son to wear his armbands. We tried everything, force, coaxing, bribery, comparison to the older kids, deceit, reverse psychology, you name it we tried it. Then along comes the pimple faced dorky lifeguard and he looks down at our son and says, “Hey buddy! You better put those bad boys on so you can go for a swim.” And yes our son giggling with delight put them on.

What possesses my son to follow the instructions of a perfect stranger? I understand that his early onset rebelliousness is no different than the next three year olds’, but aren’t they supposed to learn “stranger danger” and seek out a parent?!

I have never had to use this much of my brain to outwit, outflank, outrun, out-everything anyone since I was cramming for my SATs and that was multiple-choice.

We have, though, found a quasi-solution. We basically kid swap with friends when we are out at the park or at the museum and find that the ruse works perfectly. If my friend asks my son to take his hand, he will. If he asks him to sit in the stroller, he will. If he asks him if he wants to drink some water, he will. And vice versa their kid will do pretty much anything we ask him or her to do. It’s not perfect, but it’s a Darwinian world out there and parents need to find a way to scramble to the top of the pyramid before their kids do or we’re toast. Wait, what’s that smell?


If I was your kid’s parent…




Sex, Drugs and Irrelevant TV






Stop staring at my…

What I hate about subways is that people do not know how to ride them. This means that there are very rude people that populate my morning commute. Never a good way to start the day.

So here are some guidelines I would like to pass on. They will probably just echo, but it’s worth a shot:

  1. If you must stand next to the door anywhere other than Tokyo then at least turn sideways to let people in and out.
  2. If a person is wearing earphones and does not hear you say “Excuse me” then tap them on the shoulder, smile and say it again. Do not pull back and use your body like a battering ram (unless the still don’t move).
  3. If you have a book bag or golf clubs or shotgun please place it on the floor in front of you instead of constantly hitting people with it as you turn to and fro.
  4. If the train is not completely full I do not need to smell your breath.
  5. If you sneeze please cover your mouth.
  6. If you must incessantly complain about how crowded the train is during rush hour after having forcibly wedged yourself into the nonexistent space and held the train doors for a half hour just so you could fit, then please take a taxi or just do us all a favor and shut up.
  7. If you must picnic during your commute please take a taxi. I don’t care if you’re starving, it’s disgusting.
  8. If you listen to music on anything, but a boom box (which by the way is not allowed), I do not want to hear it nor hear you sing it. The Mariachi band that gets on at Grand Central already takes care of that annoying part of my commute.
  9. Please do not use strawberry mango kiwi conditioner. It’s nauseating that early in the morning.
  10. Stop staring at my paper. You’re creeping me out.