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Land of the Fat-Free, Home of the Super-Sized

© Douglas Charles Rapier

I know that I'm in serious trouble when my wife opens any phase of a conversation with, "Honey, you know, you'd look just like Bruce Willis if you only lost 20 pounds."

Sure. And if frogs had wings they wouldn't bump their asses hopping.

Cultural note: Most Caucasian males are told by Chinese women that they look like either Bruno or Sean Connery. I look as much like those two as they do each other.

There's no denying that I'm over-weight, however. 'Fat' even. Walking through the living-room, relaxed, in my own digs, contemplating life on this loopy ball of ore, no thought to my carriage or deportment, I'll hear that 'tsk'ing sound of dismay and disapproval universally used by wives the world-over. Having caught my attention, she'll add her slowly shaking head to the oh-so-subtle message conveyed by her glaring at my mid-section as if she expected Geiger's Alien to burst forth from my navel. That's when she'll spring the 'Bruce Willis' line on me, following it with a monolog of loving and well-intentioned advice to cease eating altogether and move to the gym until this problem is brought under control. I know better than to attempt a rebuttal.

There is weighty evidence against me. You might say. A few years back I had to submit myself to a series of insurance physicals for which I had three chances to bring my weight under 90 kilos. (For the metrically challenged, that's about 198lbs) At the first mounting of the scale, the doctor asked me if I thought I could lose 15 kilos. 'Yeah, if I cut off one leg at the hip.', I quipped. He took it good-naturedly. At least he chuckled. Probably to cover the fact he hadn't understood me. He had been referencing a chart compiled for the Chinese population which stated that a man of my height and age should tip the scales at somewhere in the vicinity of what I weighed when I was a fit fifteen.

There had to be an exception, I pleaded. As a foreigner, I simply did not fit the profile as defined for Chinese men in the 'Pre-Ming Yaw Age' by the insurance company. He acquiesced and set my weight target at an even 100 kilos (220 lbs). What a load off my mind. (a-hem) I made the third weigh-in with grams to spare, I'm happy to say, but only after stripping down and taking off my watch. That was the last time I came in under 100 kilos, unfortunately.

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