I Fought My Weight and My Weight Won—I Fought My Weight and My Weight Won. I’ve battled my weight my entire life. I’ve been fat, thin, too thin, too fat, kind of handsome, and totally invisible while blocking someone else’s view. I know my way around a cookie jar and a doctor’s scale. In fact, right after I wrote the preceding sentence and had to go downstairs and make myself a sandwich, and I’m already craving another. So when the subject of Chris Christie’s weight comes up, believe me, as much ridicule as I’ve tossed his way on this blog, I identify with his plight.
I understand how he uses self-deprecating humor to make light of being heavy. I also understand how he gets defensive when someone else criticizes him about his girth. I’ve rarely been on the same page as Chris Christie on political issues, but I respect his candor and the way he demonstrated his priorities during Hurricane Sandy. Face it, Jersey, if there’s another coastal flood, you want a governor who can float. I need another sandwich…
Ok, now I’m stuffed to the gills and uncomfortable, and I already know I’ll be hungry again before bed. There was something wonderful about being physically fit (which I no longer am). And there was something exhilarating about feeling handsome. But I felt hungry the entire time. So before I further criticize Chris Christie’s weight, I need to take stock of myself by comparison. To the right is my high school yearbook photo above is Chris Christie’s yearbook photo. Chris Christie was kind of cute, while I on the other hand looked like a garbage bag full of cottage cheese wearing horn-rimmed glasses.
I have prematurely declared myself to be a old man, because it occurred to me that I was put on earth to be a curmudgeonly old fart with a Jack Russell terrier. But back in my fifties, I had a spectacular time during my midlife crisis, starving myself half to death and allowing a professional fitness trainer to put me through my paces. I felt fabulous, but I also felt hungry all the time. It was a hellish balance between willpower and immediate gratification. For a while, sex won, so I stayed physically fit. I got more of almost everything I wanted when I was physically fit. Certainly freelance work came my way more easily.
Granted, I don’t have the weighty responsibilities that a governor faces, but I have seen my share of life’s challenges. With this in mind, it occurred to me that Chris Christie and I are polar opposite people. He’s straight and I’m gay. He’s a republican and I’m a democrat. He was handsome and popular in high school and I was too fat to fit into my locker when kids tried to slam me inside it. He’s rich and I’m poor. He’s obese in his fifties, and I was “smokin’ hot” if I say so myself. These days, I look like the Travelocity lawn gnome, only with a slightly better fashion sense.
I’m sorry that Chris Christie’s children had to hear on TV that their dad is a walking heart attack, but it’s true. He is, however, the closest thing the Republican Party has to a reasonable politician, which is a frightening thought. Whether you like him or not, and whether HE likes it or not, the man needs to lose weight for the sake of his own health. So suddenly Chris Christie and I finally have something in common: I need to take off some tonnage too, if only to avoid buying a whole new wardrobe. God these pants are tight after that third sandwich. The pity is, Chris Christie isn’t really a bad looking man under all that blubber and bluster.
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