America, You're Fat!

Here’s a joke for you: How does a portly Aussie raise their self-esteem? Move to America.

I’ve never seen so many pot-bellies, wobbling asses and gigantic hip-jowls in all my life. They really do have an enormous obesity problem here. And everyone wants to blame fast-food. Yeah, that’s a huge part of the problem, but so is their regular food. It has been so hard to find plain, unadulterated, no-additive, no supplements, non-enhanced, fresh food. And when you do, it is of course, the most expensive item on the grocery shelf.

Australian’s who have lived here warned me about the bread. Said it was too sweet and it put them off their Vegemite sandwiches. When we were in LA we noticed the same taste coming at us no matter what we ate. We called it the Taste of America. After a couple of months of shopping and label reading, it has become obvious what the problem is. High fructose corn syrup. It’s in everything. Usually along with extra sugar in some other form. Even things that are supposed to be savoury. That’s why the bread is sweet and won’t stay crisp when you toast it.

No wonder there’s a huge diabetes epidemic here. As my Grandad used to say, as we liberally applied white, refined sugar to our Rice Bubbles and milk (it was the 1970s), “Don’t have too much sugar, or you’ll get diabetes.” I used to think diabetes was for old folk (his elder sister had it) and his warnings were irrelevant and a little overzealous for a four and a six year old. But looking around, I’m beginning to wonder whether a few more people ought to have been listening to Grandad.

The upside to all this is that fat bodies are accommodated at the clothing stores, and I can find almost anything in my size (and much, much bigger). Their health issue leads to my shopping nirvana.