CINCINNATI -- Hot tip to ISIS: No Hurry. The United States will eventually eat itself to death.
Sensational headline or dire prediction? America’s enemies are often reminded of our resilience and determination to maintain our standing as the most civilized, industrialized, incentivized country on the face of the earth. Any more we are emerging as the must cellulited bunch on the planet. Our quest to test the strength of spandex is ever expanding.
We are FAT and getting FATTER.
Look what we glamorize as the pre-eminent event of the Fourth of July: A hot dog eating contest. Some guy named Joey Chestnut retained his title as the Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Champion by consuming 61 hot dogs in 10 minutes. For this he’s lionized and idolized? For this an ESPN commentator declares it, (hopefully tongue in cheek) “the greatest achievement in the history of man.” Leonardo da Vinci must be spinning in his grave like a Waring blender.
Gluttony is a career option. Competitive eating is now an organized, recognized pastime. Oh My!
And the outsized proportions of our some of our citizens also borders on hideous. Some appear to foster hopes of becoming human skin farms, generating more surface area for more and more garish tattoos. Like reclaiming land from the sea — for more fast food outlets.
So it comes as no great surprise that a virtual tsunami of diabetes is sweeping the nation. I’m as guilty as the next guy.
I was diagnosed as being pre-diabetic six months ago. The 'D' word. That gets your attention. But apparently not enough people hear those foreboding syllables. CNN cites an 8 percentage annual increase in the incidence of diabetes in America. The only largely preventable affliction to boast such robust growth (no pun intended). And it is solely a product of our insatiable appetite.
Take me for instance. I cannot eat one scoop of ice cream. What’s the point? I am a one-is-too-many, fifty-is-not-enough kind of guy.
I pray for moderation. It has has seldom if ever been delivered.
But there is hope.
I’m due for my checkup this week and will proudly mount the scale at my doctor’s office, 14 pounds lighter than when I last burdened it. If I can do it, anyone can. There are no championships to be garnered by knocking off a few pounds but as I’ve said before and will again:
Nothing tastes as good as a pair of pants that fits, feels.
Or to hear that you have —if only temporarily —retreated from the d-word's lethal door.
And that's my 2 cents.
Dennis Janson's "My 2 cents" column is published every Monday and Wednesday on WCPO.com. His video commentary airs every Friday at 6 p.m.