Food: A Love Story (3 page)

NOT SLIM JIM

As a result of my constant eating, I’m not thin. Sure, my beard probably hides none of it, but at least I know why I’m not thin. When most people gain weight, they rarely admit that it is due to the food they constantly shove into their mouths. We blame external forces. “Well, work has been stressful.” “That was a brutal winter.” “I have young kids, which makes you more hungry, right?”

I’m not in denial. I realize I could lose half an ounce or two of weight. I take full responsibility for the reality I’ve created, even if at times I feel like I’ll never lose this baby weight. That’s the price of being a father.

The truth is that it was I alone who caused my weight gain. Luckily for me, most of my girth is intentional. I don’t mean to brag or anything, but I’m preparing for a very big role. Sure, it’s a cinnamon roll, but I don’t want to look like I can’t finish it. Or spell it. Some people lie about their age. I lie about my weight. Sometimes I catch myself telling total strangers that my belly is not real. That I actually had to get stomach implants to ward off female suitors. This strategy generally fails, because
I’ve caught women staring at my gut. I usually point to my eyes and say in a very condescending tone, “Hello, I’m up here.” After all, I’m not some piece of flab for anyone to ogle.

Once, after a show, a woman told me, “You’re not
that
fat.” Like it was a compliment. I held myself back from answering her, “You’re not
that
polite.” I’m not sure how overweight I am, because you are supposed to find out this information by calculating your BMI. Once I found out that did not stand for “Big Mac Included,” I stopped trying.

There was a time when I was thin. Sure, I was six years old, but I’m confident I can get back into those clothes. Actually, around the age of seven it became very obvious that I had the body type of someone who would have to work out twice a day just to look out of shape. I struggled through my twenties and thirties, and then one day I looked in the mirror, saw my belly, and said, “I give up. It’s all over.” It wasn’t defeat as much as it was acceptance. I figured,
I got a hot wife. If she leaves me for getting fat, that means she’s shallow.
“Honey, do you think looks are important? No? Good. Now pass the gravy.”

A lifelong passion.

Around the time I tricked Jeannie into marrying me, I lost a primary motivator for staying thin. Additionally, my career as a comedian was never affected by my waist size. Even my occasional acting roles were as a character actor. “Character actor” is, of course, entertainment industry code for “not attractive.” It became clear that being thin was never going to put me in competition with Brad Pitt. By my thirties I’d auditioned to be Matthew McConaughey’s unattractive friend in three movies. I didn’t get any of those parts because I wasn’t “cute-unattractive” enough. The other reasons to be thin just seemed downright esoteric: “You’ll feel better and have more energy.” Next. “You’ll live longer.” Next. Then the reasons just get silly. There’s an old Weight Watchers saying: “Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.” I for one can think of a thousand things that taste better than thin feels. Many of them are two-word phrases that end with
cheese
(Cheddar cheese, blue cheese, grilled cheese). Even unsalted French fries taste better than thin feels. Ever eat fries without salt on them? I always think,
These could use some salt, but that would mean I’d have to get up and move. I guess I’ll just imagine there’s salt on them.
Eating fries without salt feels like a sacrifice. “What am I, a pioneer?” When I have to eat unsalted fries, I often feel like I should be a contestant on
Survivor
or something. I look forward to telling
Survivor
executive producer Mark Burnett: “Once I had fries without salt on them, so I could probably live anywhere.”

I realize weight is a serious issue in America, but I also believe some people
should
be fat. We all have that friend who has lost tons of weight, and whenever you see them you secretly think,
You looked better fat. Go back to being fat. You’re thin, but you look exhausted. Even looking at you makes me want to sit down.
Obviously, losing any amount of weight is an accomplishment. Obesity is a big problem in our society. This
is a well-known fact. Another fact is that there seems to be a general insensitivity to our obese fellow citizens. It seems once a week there is a news segment on American obesity. They always show some big person walking. They don’t show their face, but that person has to know that’s them. They are probably just sitting at home watching TV. “Well, that shirt looks familiar—oh crap! Looks like I can’t wear that again.” That poor guy probably gets to work and is greeted by a coworker, “Hey Fred, I saw your fat ass on the six o’clock news.”

Now it seems like obesity is an industry. At this point the countless number of documentaries on obesity just makes me hungry. I feel like the insensitivity toward obesity reached its peak with the television show
The Biggest Loser
. The show seems to be an elaborate insult masked by stories of inspiration. The following is what I think occurred in the meeting when the show was pitched.

PRODUCER:
Hey, I got an idea for a show. We get really, really fat people to lose weight, and everyone watches them struggle and fail.

NETWORK EXECUTIVE:
That’s good! Ha, ha, ha. I’m laughing already.

PRODUCER:
So wait, wait. So we make these really, really fat people run around. Jump up and down. More or less torturing them.

NETWORK EXECUTIVE:
Funny. So we get to abuse them. Love it.

PRODUCER:
Just thin people get to yell at the fat people.

NETWORK EXECUTIVE:
Of course.

PRODUCER:
So there will be these thin, attractive judges, and we will have the fat people weigh in on national television.

NETWORK EXECUTIVE:
Do they have their shirts off? That would be extra humiliating.

PRODUCER:
Fine, no shirt. Now, here is the kicker. Whichever fatty loses the most weight wins the title—wait for it—
The Biggest Loser
. Get it?

NETWORK EXECUTIVE:
Because they are all losers, because they are fat, right?

PRODUCER:
Of course. But the winner is the
biggest
loser because he or she has humiliated themselves the most on national television and, I suppose, maybe lost some weight.

NETWORK EXECUTIVE:
We could probably pay them in Twinkies and Ho Hos, right?

PRODUCER:
Sure, some kind of food, of course. While we are torturing them, we make them wear these huge insulting T-shirts that say …

NETWORK EXECUTIVE:
The Biggest Loser!

PRODUCER:
Their big fat bodies will serve as slow-moving billboards for the show.

NETWORK EXECUTIVE:
Ha, ha. I love it. I have to go. I have a Pilates class now.

PROUD AMERICAN

If obesity is an epidemic in America, then what caused it? I can only speak from my own experience, but I will just go out on a limb here and guess it was caused by American eating. I’m very American. I don’t mean that in a boastful way. I’m just saying my habits and passions surrounding food are those of a typical American. Not to generalize, but generally most Americans have an unhealthy relationship with food. Unless, of course, they are damn Commies! Maybe it’s the exposure to a lifetime of McDonald’s commercials. Maybe our country couldn’t handle the post–World War II financial boom. Maybe we are just better than all the other countries at eating. In any case, consuming food of any kind feels a little more important in the United States. We seem to always be eating. If aliens studied Earth, they would come to the conclusion that the United States is somehow consuming food on behalf of other countries. In America we have gone way beyond sustenance. Eating is an activity. “Why don’t we get lunch, and then we’ll grab some pizza.” Most Americans eat constantly. And when we’re not
eating, we’re chewing gum. We are literally practicing eating. We chew gum with a swagger and purpose that says, “Yeah, I got a big meal coming up. I’m training for Thanksgiving.”

There are many elements that make up the American attitude toward food, but some are consistent. There always seems to be an unending dissatisfaction with, and constant need to improve upon, the status quo of food. Americans are never satisfied when it comes to a food item. The hamburger could never remain just the hamburger. “You know what would be good on this hamburger? A ham sandwich. Instead of a bun, let’s use two doughnuts. That way we can have it for breakfast. Look out, McGriddle, here comes the Doughnut Ham Hamburger.” I came up with this silly concept for my 2006 comedy special
Beyond the Pale
, and then in 2012 Dunkin’ Donuts made me a sort of food prophet by introducing the very food item that I had hyperbolically predicted. I wasn’t surprised, really. Dunkin’ Donuts is only responding to the ongoing public desire for innovation and variety in our food. It’s the new American Manifest Destiny. We are the ones who for some reason needed a potato chip that tastes like steak and Jim Beam Jalapeño–flavored sunflower seeds. The variety of flavors is only matched by the speed at which we need them.

This makes perfect sense.

Of course, when the word
fast
is associated with American eating, it is the opposite of the word
fast
as it relates to abstinence from food. When people in other parts of the world hear the term “food fast,” they envision a time of spiritual and physical cleansing. I hear “food fast” and I envision a drive-thru. I like things fast. I don’t like lines. Whenever I find myself in line for an ATM behind two people, I always think,
What is this, Russia?

Americans want our food fast. That’s why those fast-food value meals are so successful. It’s less the value and more the speed. You just have to say a number. “Two!” and your food is on its way. Soon you won’t have to speak a word. It will just be a noise—“Eeeyah!”—and your meal will be placed in front of you. Fast and easy is the American way. We start indoctrinating our children into this mindset at a very early age. My children eat this yogurt that comes in an astronaut tube that they just squeeze and the entire serving of yogurt is expelled into their mouths. We don’t want them to waste their time lifting up a cumbersome spoon. They are even starting to package baby food in a squeeze bag. I hear soon they are coming out with a variety of kid foods where these squeeze bags come with an elastic strap so they can just put them around their heads and walk around all day wearing a squeeze feed bag. Why should they even have to lift their hands to their mouths? What a waste of energy. Let’s keep it fast and easy.