This is Part II of my ongoing discussion of “fattiness” in America, and I’m gonna call it “Double Fattiness, The Series” because there’s a Chinese movie of that title and it just brings the right amount of levity (it could be a new Latte choice) and reality to this rather every day problem. The double fattiness of others, as well as my own, addictions in general, and my current Siegfried and Roy circus act (with the help of Weight Watchers) to manage my DNA helix.
I’ve reached my “goal” in Weight Watchers and am now a Lifetime member who may attend meetings weekly for free if I so choose.
I so choose.
This photo was taken back in 1967 when two of my friends and I got into my Ford Mustang and drove across country to get jobs and a life in San Francisco. We stopped in Iowa where the extended family of one friend lived. A farm. I had never seen pigs before. No, I’m seriously deprived in the nature department. As my niece says of our family, “The Coakleys like their nature inside on the Discovery Channel and National Geographic”.
I rode a horse and it was a toss up who had the larger rear end. It was one of my “fluffy” periods. I am going to try to attach a slide show to this post so you can verify for yourself. I’ve got several photos of the trip out at Niagra Falls, The Grand Canyon, etc..as well as one of my slimmed down periods so you get the contrast. Also, I was a stark raving red head in one of my slim downs and seriously? My head looks like it should have been treated with a fire extinguisher.
While living in SF, I slimmed down (once again, as this roller coaster began in elementary grades) and true to form, I was a magnet for guys with initials on their skis as well as on their MG sports car, driver’s side. No, I’m not kidding. I went skiing only once with him and the relationship was OV-er.
Instead of buying a chi chi outfit–(People, even thin and svelte, I knew I was not going to be a skier so why invest?) I wore my corduroys and white Irish sweater and sprayed myself all over with scotch guard in case I fell down which, I most certainly was going to do, as I’d never been skiing before. He caught my spray booth pirouette (sort of like watching a dog try to scratch his tail) at the lesson area of the mountain after he had paid for my lesson. (When I did date, they paid. I’d have no dates in today’s world. Wait…I don’t have any dates. Hmmm….)
He and his initialed skies disappeared. I ended up drinking brandy with the lift operator in his wooden booth at the bottom of the mountain and who seemed to have fewer teeth with every sip I took of his brandy.
Love me some skiing from the inside.
At any rate, the three of us traveling across country each had addictions which were only much later acknowledged and, still 40 plus years later, are only intermittently managed. Addictions on the young or old are never pretty but when you are also eligible for Medicare, it just seems a whole lot sadder and the effects ever so much clearer.
Alcohol and pills were their substances and not easily seen in a culture that tolerated use and abuse of both quite generously. My addiction was easily seen, I was either puffin’ up or puffin’ down. I was a poor drinker, as I seemed to get loopy on very little, get a headache, and wake-up in the morning feeling like hell. Grass had a 20 minute hilarious effect on me and then I was in a deep sleep after consuming a whole bag of chips. I never met a potato I didn’t like.
In the end, booze and drugs just didn’t deliver me into any state I liked. And, I was living in San Francisco in the 60’s. Oi.
If alcohol were my thing, I’d be attending AA meetings. A gambler? Gamblers Anonymous. A celebrity? I’d be on one of those Celebrity Rehab shows with Dr. Drew and Heidi Fleiss and Tom Sizemore and probably thinking my problem isn’t half as bad as those folks, which I indeed did feel later in life about my two companions to San Francisco. I felt their problems with alcohol and pills were far worse than my fattiness issues.
And, I was wrong.
Delusions always ride shotgun when you have an addictive personality and feeling superior to something or someone is one of the required delusions.
Despite meeting my weight goal, I’ll have to keep going every week to keep my delusions in check. A scale is a delusion popper. I avoided them for years in my balloon years and even in my slim down periods which seemed to happen every decade and last a couple of years. If I were an alcoholic, I’d have been the family member going in and out of rehab. The family would have been calling one another, “O, No! She’s spread eagle on the lawn AGAIN!” I’d have to have a blood test or a breathalyzer at the door of each AA meeting, too, or else I’d be having a cocktail just before attending and then getting up and talking about my sobriety. Nothing “sobers” a fatty up more than stepping on a scale in front of another human being, no matter how discreet they are–and they are discreet at WW.
At this point in my life, all I can say is I’m glad we didn’t stop in Idaho. They grow potatoes there, don’t they?
©Pat Coakley 2010
PHOTOGRAPHS CANNOT BE USED WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION
**Select photographs from this blog and my wider archive can be purchased at www.patcoakley.com
Congratulations on meeting your WW goal. I’ve joined so many times I think they have a special file on me somewhere. But unfortunately I’ve never been successful at it. I join, lose 20 lbs, quit, gain 25. After a number of years I am now far away from my goal.
Thank you for the picture of the pigs and for identifying them. I’m must be a distant relative since I, too, prefer my nature to be either on TV or in a magazine.
I will re-join WW as soon as I lose the weight I just gained back from quiting.
Oh, Carol, if this comment could be made into a painting I’d hang it on my wall. It is so hilarious and true and for sure you are a distant relative! I knew there was a fine artist somewhere in my family tree!!
oh come on now, you werent that fat! admire your reaching your goal however. (dont get too skinny now) but you do look great, i am sure. i love the new slide show thing. dont hate me but i never think about weight of bodies i know i know fatness is a national concern and we want to feel good in our skins but i think more about the weight of peoples brains ha ha
Tipota, I avoided scales and cameras as got puffier in my older accordian stages, so couldn’t find other images but your standards sound a bit more “relaxed” than most! You’ll have to trust me on this one!
“I never met a potato I didn’t like”
That would make a great slogan to put on a T-shirt.
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You women and your body images!
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Aye carumba!
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Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow you may die.
Aye carumba for sure, Razz! It was finally bad knees that put me in the losing state of mind, hopefully for the last time before my dirt nap in a potato field in Idaho.
Body image is an area where I think men simply have a far healthier aesthetic view of their growing selves. As in, so what? It’s me. I’m still hot. Some women do also, but far fewer of us, I think.
But, both sexes have to deal with the physical effects of roller coaster girth and this in the end– not body image, but not being able to walk for miles around Boston was my wake-up call. All other fluffy reductions were due to the aye carumba body image standards! Never quite grafted into a permanent way of life though.
This time, I was simply not going to enjoy life and be merry merry If my knees couldn’t take me where I wanted to go. Arthritis you can’t cure but you can make yourself lighter.
This is where being an anxious person can come in handy!! It can really paint you a detailed picture of your future–knee replacement, rehab, canes, walkers…oh, yeah, Weight Watchers seemed like a better future option!
I think the difference between the sexes as far as body image goes is:
Men fall in love with the women they are attracted to, and women become attracted to the men that they love.
Professor Buffnik, I never thought of it that way but that is so true. I am thinking of example a, b, and c now in my own life. Interesting to have new thoughts on such an old and worn track.