Fat like me
One of the truly weird things about working here is how we, the reportorial staff members, occasionally get to put our most private selves out there for public consumption.
There’s a reason for this: We think that, sometimes, we can tell the truth a little better that way. But think about it: nobody wants to have their picture on the cover of one of the most-read newspapers in the state saying, “I’m fat. I’m weak. And, maybe, I’m fat because I’m weak.”
Anybody else out there ever felt self-conscious about their weight? I’m not talking about the unrealistic body image fostered by the media glorification of sticks like Calista Flockhart or Maria Shriver. I’m talking about the kind of fat that comes from not having enough self-control to stop eating junk.
There. I’ve said it. Deep down, I think being fat is sometimes an indication of a lack of moral fiber.
I’m not saying it about someone who has a glandular problem. I’m not saying it about someone who’s average weight but wants to be skeletal. I’m saying it about an average fat person, me.
I guess what I’m trying to get to is that part of the reason America and Americans have a problem with weight is that, while we can identify the problem of obesity, we can’t solve it because we can’t talk about it in a truthful, bottom-line way. There are a lot of similar issues in this country. As soon as someone starts telling the truth, there are people who say, “We don’t want to censor your opinion; we want to censor the way you express it.”
Look at that. My little note took a change in direction from the reason first-person stories tell the truth better than falsely objective news stories, and it became a diatribe against the thought police.
I wonder what I think of that? Could the two be related?
RTV No. 5: Your vote helps decide how your tax dollar is spent.