I don’t generally follow celebrity news, finding it all rather silly and self-absorbed. (Then again, maybe that’s the point.) But occasionally something will catch my eye. This past week, it was reading about how George Lopez insulted is ex-wife, Kirstie Alley, by comparing her to a pig. (http://marquee.blogs.cnn.com/2011/03/25/kirstie-alley-slams-george-lopez-for-pig-joke/?hpt=Sbin)
This caught my attention because it’s a painfully good example of the way heavy people are often treated. Worse is that much of the time, such behavior seems to be considered acceptable, even if not actively encouraged. Some people have this strange notion that the extra layers of fat provide protective insulation against the pain of insults. But in my experience, that has never been the case. More often it seems the inverse is true. The extra weight makes you even more vulnerable, not less so.
And I don’t think anyone will deny that Alley carries some extra weight, being more generously proportioned than in her early days of Cheers and Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan. She’s even had a show about it (Fat Actress) and been a spokeswoman for Jenny Craig. It also seems quite clear that the break-up of her marriage to Lopez was acrimonious. Neither of these facts excuses Lopez’s behavior.
He claims that his joke didn’t have any malice to it, but people do not, generally speaking, compare anyone to pigs or other such animals out of the goodness of their hearts. For instance, in the movie The Social Network, when Mark Zuckerberg’s girlfriend broke up with him, he also compared her to farm animals, but at least he didn’t try to pretend there was no cruelty or hurt behind it.
For myself, I still remember being called a “cow” and “porky” when I was younger. The fact that I carry that memory twenty years later speaks volumes. Bad as that was, though, it is also true that teens tend to be a cruel lot and will happily attack any possible vulnerability. The hope is that they will outgrow such behavior.
For some reason, though, in relation to weight, many adults still act as adolescents. Lopez is merely a representative of those who consider it okay to insult and demean and belittle people who are heavy. The only difference is that his behavior is more scrutinized due to celebrity status. The only good part about the incident is that it was publicized as something negative. I can only hope that others begin to see it that way, and that it will lead to fewer insults of those who are overweight.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Sacred Food
Ours is not a society that often considers what we eat to be sacred. Those who take communion may think of the wafer that way, although since I don’t participate in that ritual, I don’t know for sure. But for most of us, most of the time it’s easy not to think of food as sacred because we are so accustomed to having enough, in fact an overabundance. While familiarity may not exactly breed contempt in this case, it does remove us from the miracle that is our food.
But not everyone is in this position. As Kate Braestrup writes in Beginner’s Grace: “For millennia, and for too many of our brothers and sisters today, hunger is the first pain and the final agony of human life. The hungry, therefore, have no problem whatever grasping the sacredness of food.” (p. 27)
Thinking about this, I can finally begin to understand the concept, if not the practice, of religious rituals such as Lent. Although I was Catholic until I was 8, I don’t recall my food-focused family ever observing it. And in my current Unitarian Universalist denomination, where potlucks rank only second to committee meetings as favorite activities, such traditions feel like relics of a religious past many would prefer to forget.
But just because a ritual is old does not mean it is out-dated. In fact, for those of us with more than we need, these days it may be more relevant than at any other time to know the pangs of hunger, the disappointment of an unsatisfied craving. It reminds us not to take it for granted, a lesson we would all do well to remember in light of the fact that our world of abundance seems to be coming to an end.
What I take from these types of traditions is not the concept of deprivation. Rather, their value lies in forcing people to focus on what they are eating, to pay attention, and to recognize it for the wonder it is. What, after all, could be more miraculous than a tiny seed, nourished only by sun and rain and a little care, sprouting to a plant that can feed a hungry child? Or another type of seed emerging as a living creature that could grow to feed a family? Or our bodies in turn providing nourishment to those very plants from which we once ate?
And so while I have never been one to say grace, more and more I understand the importance of that pause of recognition, not to offer praise to a divine being but to honor the sacredness of food. For those who share that sense but may wish for a non-denominational grace, perhaps you, as I, can agree with this one (listed on p. 23 of Beginner’s Grace, author unknown and the “amen” optional):
We are thankful for the food
And for the hands that prepared it
And for our family and for our friends.
Amen.
But not everyone is in this position. As Kate Braestrup writes in Beginner’s Grace: “For millennia, and for too many of our brothers and sisters today, hunger is the first pain and the final agony of human life. The hungry, therefore, have no problem whatever grasping the sacredness of food.” (p. 27)
Thinking about this, I can finally begin to understand the concept, if not the practice, of religious rituals such as Lent. Although I was Catholic until I was 8, I don’t recall my food-focused family ever observing it. And in my current Unitarian Universalist denomination, where potlucks rank only second to committee meetings as favorite activities, such traditions feel like relics of a religious past many would prefer to forget.
But just because a ritual is old does not mean it is out-dated. In fact, for those of us with more than we need, these days it may be more relevant than at any other time to know the pangs of hunger, the disappointment of an unsatisfied craving. It reminds us not to take it for granted, a lesson we would all do well to remember in light of the fact that our world of abundance seems to be coming to an end.
What I take from these types of traditions is not the concept of deprivation. Rather, their value lies in forcing people to focus on what they are eating, to pay attention, and to recognize it for the wonder it is. What, after all, could be more miraculous than a tiny seed, nourished only by sun and rain and a little care, sprouting to a plant that can feed a hungry child? Or another type of seed emerging as a living creature that could grow to feed a family? Or our bodies in turn providing nourishment to those very plants from which we once ate?
And so while I have never been one to say grace, more and more I understand the importance of that pause of recognition, not to offer praise to a divine being but to honor the sacredness of food. For those who share that sense but may wish for a non-denominational grace, perhaps you, as I, can agree with this one (listed on p. 23 of Beginner’s Grace, author unknown and the “amen” optional):
We are thankful for the food
And for the hands that prepared it
And for our family and for our friends.
Amen.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Penalized for Walking
Recently at the Philadelphia International Airport, I tried to make use of a fairly long layover by walking around to exercise. I had to go from terminal B to terminal F, and I was a bit disappointed to see that it involved a shuttle ride, because I knew I had time for a lengthy stroll. Imagine my pleased surprise, then, when I spotted the walkway to terminal F. That is, until I got close enough to see the red warning sign.
“If you walk to the F terminal instead of taking the shuttle, you will have to go through security again.”
I paused a moment, dumbfounded. Much as I wanted to walk, I had just filled up my water bottle and bought some tea. I had also pulled out some hand lotion from my plastic bag of allowed liquids and gels. I didn’t fancy the prospect of storing the lotion again, dumping the water, and gulping my still-scalding tea to go through security, only to refill my bottle and get the lotion back out immediately afterward. My other concern was not knowing how much going through security again might delay me.
In the end I decided to take the shuttle, swaying in concert with my packed fellow passengers. Once at the F terminal, I did get some exercise by wandering the concourse, but it wasn’t very big, and I was starting to feel a bit conspicuous after multiple round trips. Plus, given how long it took to wait for the shuttle, board, make the trip, disembark, and find my gate, I didn’t have much time left.
I know I’m probably one of the very few people who would complain about having to take a shuttle between terminals, and certainly if you were in a hurry with a tight connection, that would likely be faster. But it would have been nice to have the option to walk without feeling like I was being penalized.
“If you walk to the F terminal instead of taking the shuttle, you will have to go through security again.”
I paused a moment, dumbfounded. Much as I wanted to walk, I had just filled up my water bottle and bought some tea. I had also pulled out some hand lotion from my plastic bag of allowed liquids and gels. I didn’t fancy the prospect of storing the lotion again, dumping the water, and gulping my still-scalding tea to go through security, only to refill my bottle and get the lotion back out immediately afterward. My other concern was not knowing how much going through security again might delay me.
In the end I decided to take the shuttle, swaying in concert with my packed fellow passengers. Once at the F terminal, I did get some exercise by wandering the concourse, but it wasn’t very big, and I was starting to feel a bit conspicuous after multiple round trips. Plus, given how long it took to wait for the shuttle, board, make the trip, disembark, and find my gate, I didn’t have much time left.
I know I’m probably one of the very few people who would complain about having to take a shuttle between terminals, and certainly if you were in a hurry with a tight connection, that would likely be faster. But it would have been nice to have the option to walk without feeling like I was being penalized.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Dangers of Nutritional Information
On a recent work trip, I was obligated to go out to dinner a couple of nights. The first night I didn’t know where we were going until we arrived (it was a last-minute decision). I therefore ordered my food based on what looked good and what I felt like, and I ate as much of it as seemed reasonable given my hunger levels.
The second night, I found out in advance where we were going, so I decided to check out the menu online. At the bottom was a link to “View Nutritional Information”. I couldn’t resist. I brought up the PDF of their nutritional breakout. And I was immediately sucked into the dangers of those charts and restrictive eating.
I found that I wasn’t even looking at what the menu options were, just the nutritional breakout. How many calories, how much fat, how much protein, etc. And then based on that, I was going back to see what the item was to determine if I might want to order it. I was a bit startled to discover just how caloric some things were, even innocent-sounding items such as lettuce wraps. What particularly horrified me, though, were the serving sizes. The sheet told me all the basic information but also how many servings were included in each item, and then how many calories per serving. Apart from a cup of soup, not a single item was portioned for one serving size – most, in fact, were at least three, some as many as four or five, and not just the appetizers.
Looking at it stressed me out. I realized that I slipping into old, restrictive eating patterns. I told myself that I wanted to find something that I could finish since I wouldn’t be able to bring leftovers home, as I was staying in a hotel, but I knew that was just a rationalization. The reality was more complicated. I was poring over the nutritional information partly because it was easy to do, with that link so convenient. But the deeper reason was that I wanted a sense of control. The whole week had been completely out of my hands and very last-minute, and I wasn’t happy about it.
That’s when I closed the information sheet and stopped obsessing. I decided that I would just go and look at the menu when I was there to see what sounded appealing. If I didn’t finish it, so be it, but I wasn’t going to try to measure and count and add everything up to achieve the perfectly balanced meal based on the nutrition information, tempting though that level of control was.
Don’t get me wrong – those charts can be very helpful, particularly for people who have certain allergies or medical conditions, and it can be instructive. The danger is that instead of allowing you to be in charge, the information actually takes control of you. But food is not just individual elements, rather the whole taken together. And I knew that once I was at the restaurant, whatever decision I made would be the right one, as long as I did what I had the first night: pay attention to what I was hungry for, stop eating when I was comfortable, and let the nutritional information take care of itself.
The second night, I found out in advance where we were going, so I decided to check out the menu online. At the bottom was a link to “View Nutritional Information”. I couldn’t resist. I brought up the PDF of their nutritional breakout. And I was immediately sucked into the dangers of those charts and restrictive eating.
I found that I wasn’t even looking at what the menu options were, just the nutritional breakout. How many calories, how much fat, how much protein, etc. And then based on that, I was going back to see what the item was to determine if I might want to order it. I was a bit startled to discover just how caloric some things were, even innocent-sounding items such as lettuce wraps. What particularly horrified me, though, were the serving sizes. The sheet told me all the basic information but also how many servings were included in each item, and then how many calories per serving. Apart from a cup of soup, not a single item was portioned for one serving size – most, in fact, were at least three, some as many as four or five, and not just the appetizers.
Looking at it stressed me out. I realized that I slipping into old, restrictive eating patterns. I told myself that I wanted to find something that I could finish since I wouldn’t be able to bring leftovers home, as I was staying in a hotel, but I knew that was just a rationalization. The reality was more complicated. I was poring over the nutritional information partly because it was easy to do, with that link so convenient. But the deeper reason was that I wanted a sense of control. The whole week had been completely out of my hands and very last-minute, and I wasn’t happy about it.
That’s when I closed the information sheet and stopped obsessing. I decided that I would just go and look at the menu when I was there to see what sounded appealing. If I didn’t finish it, so be it, but I wasn’t going to try to measure and count and add everything up to achieve the perfectly balanced meal based on the nutrition information, tempting though that level of control was.
Don’t get me wrong – those charts can be very helpful, particularly for people who have certain allergies or medical conditions, and it can be instructive. The danger is that instead of allowing you to be in charge, the information actually takes control of you. But food is not just individual elements, rather the whole taken together. And I knew that once I was at the restaurant, whatever decision I made would be the right one, as long as I did what I had the first night: pay attention to what I was hungry for, stop eating when I was comfortable, and let the nutritional information take care of itself.
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