You’ll have to forgive this fat kid for pushing back.

But I didn’t take it lying down when I was 12.  I’m certainly not going to start now.

As all of these Congressional scholars and genetically fortunate media wonks get to take their daily pot shots at fat people, they continue the victimization that those of us who have struggled with weight issues have faced since our waist line first began to expand.

Now they’re pushing higher taxes on sodas and other “obesity causing” foods so they can help the lazy bums who just can’t push themselves away from the table.

They’re like a doctor who spends week after week treating surface symptoms because they are too incompetent to realize there may be a causative core issue that could be treated.

Overweight people aren’t the only ones that make bad food choices.
President Barack Obama and Vice President Joe Biden recently went out for burgers instead of a nice dry salad and a cup of yogurt.

Obama also failed to offer the Cambridge, Mass. cop and the Harvard professor he arrested a fresh cup of soy milk.

They went straight for beer.  I hope it was light beer.

I’m not in denial anymore.  I won’t tell you I don’t know why I’m overweight.  I won’t say I never overeat and I must have a metabolism problem.  I do know why I am overweight and I do, too, frequently overeat.

For the better part of 2009, I have been on a mission to lose weight.  I have been relatively successful.  Of course I work out about five times a week and try hard to deny natural tendencies to choose comfort foods instead of those that would allow me to lose those extra pounds.

My current mission is the fifth or sixth incarnation of a major weight loss plan for me.  If the past is  any indication of the future, it won’t be my last.

It started when I was about five.  I don’t know why.  I was the youngest of three kids.  My sister was a successful pageant princess and also achieved a lot in school.  My brother lettered in four sports and probably still could today.  I couldn’t have asked for much more out of life but for some reason, no matter what I accomplished, I never felt like I?measured up to the incredible standards set for me.

Was most of that in my head?  Probably.

But isn’t my perception of reality what is really real to me?  That has been my experience.

There have been many forks in the road where I could have made better choices and instead opted for the immediate comfort food could bring.

These proposals pretend that somehow ice cream and pizza are traded like commodities.  Their support of food and soda taxes seems to indicate that they believe I made my unhealthy choice based primarily on price.

Even their own mouthpieces demonstrate the idiocy of the “treat the symptom” method of finding a cure for the obesity epidemic in America.

“It is extremely difficult in reality to make such a snapshot estimate of something so complicated as obesity,” CBS?News chief political consultant Marc Ambinder recently reported.  “This is one reason why researchers in the field tend to focus on suffering and disparities within populations, rather than aggregate cost.”

Ambinder pointed out that obesity rates in the country have leveled off overall but some groups, such as African American women, Hispanics, Native Americans, or among poorer Americans are still experiencing increasing rates.

Why might that be?  Are they buying fattening food because it is cheap?  If taxes were raised on the offending fat grams, would they grab a carrot instead?

No.

These socio-economic groups tend to have a great deal of stress in their lives because of lower incomes and higher abuse rates than other groups who have more advantages.  Without genetically superior metabolism, these factors tend to lead to weight gain.
Walt Theissen wrote about this issue on a political web site called Nolan Chart (www.nolanchart.com).

“Is it possible that obesity has a much more sinister root,” Theissen asked hypothetically.  “One which gets almost no attention?  The answer is a resounding yes.  That root which is likely shares with many other medical problems has eight contributing ‘branch roots’ that combine together to cause problems for people: (1) patient physically abused, (2) patient verbally abused, (3) patient sexually abused, (4) a family member in prison, (5) mother physically abused, (6) a family member with a drug or alcohol problem, (7) a parent was missing, and (8) where someone in the family was chronically depressed, mentally ill, or suicidal.”

A tax on sodas won’t address any of those issues.

Theissen went on to say “This excellent example clearly illustrates government incompetence and impotence when it comes to solving ‘social problems’ which it so loves to address.  It can’t do anything about the fact that so many people are likely to be overweight because of their personal histories of abuse, so they push it aside.”

They can treat all the symptoms they want to and claim success because of juggled numbers and muddled comparisons.  But until the disease is treated, the symptoms will persist.

It is becoming not only acceptable, but trendy to look down on the gravitationally challenged.

Dr. Sarah Reed recently took issue with President Barack Obama's choice for Surgeon General.  Apparently, Dr. Sarah has strong feelings about all the fatties she is forced to treat.  Hippocrates would no doubt be proud.

“I am disappointed that Dr. Regina Benjamin is obese.  Obesity is the number one problem in my own practice and I make it a very high priority to lead by example,” Reed said, obviously admiring her own profile in a mirror.  “Although her credentials speak for themselves, her weight cannot be overlooked.  Shame on her!”

Shame indeed.  We don’t need a surgeon general with credentials -- as long as they have rock hard abs.

In reality, this boils down to the schoolyard bullies getting another chance to belittle overweight people while feigning compassion.

Until you are willing to find a way to treat the disease that caused the symptom, you’ll just be logging another mile on the treadmill.  It’s a lot of work and a little pain, but in the end, you haven’t really gone anywhere.