Mayor Michael Bloomberg’s large-sized soda ban (and other beverages) was overturned by a New York state court in a blow against common sense and government intervention in the personal lives of millions; a ban that would have limited the serving size of sugary beverages to 16 ounces.
Flabby arms clenching Big Gulps must have gone up in unison to celebrate. Though a horrendous stink that accompanied the celebrations of those so big they sweat on relativity cool days accompanied that cry and toast of victory as far south as the nation’s capital. If victory is obesity, well, you win. The losers? Your children and the millions that are forced to fly coach each year.
“This is a bump in the road,” said Dr. David Ludwig, a professor of paediatrics and nutrition at Boston Children’s Hospital speaking with the New York Times. “We can take comfort from the time frames of other big public health campaigns. None were easy. None happened without legal challenges. The campaign against obesity has already begun on many levels.”
There are clearly two sides to this argument and I’m not sure where I fall as a smoker and heavy drinker. For years, and dependent on the state, I’ve been taxed to the point of absurdity, and been forced outside to the disapproving looks of non-smokers. I rarely breathe a stupid breath, wait I smoke, but I do a number of stupid things and would hate to have this legislated. I understand the “nanny state” argument that is often used to criticize the Obama administration but don’t feel this argument applies to the freedom for all Americans to own whatever assault weapon they deem rightfully entitled to given people’s unwillingness to comfortably leave them in their homes but rather shoot up movie theaters and schools far too often.
When I was called up for Desert Shield which later transitioned to Desert Storm I received permission to bring my bolt-action Winchester .270, my first deer rifle. Now, I also had my AR-15 with me with good reason. But if I can take a deer rifle to a war zone I don’t feel anyone needs an AR-15 to go deer hunting. The idea is to kill the deer then butcher it, not butcher while shooting it.
Smoking may indeed kill me. So might crossing the street, something I do numerous times each day as my smartphone pedometer tells me I walk an average of five miles a day. Drinking 60 plus ounces of sugar feuled soda and Slurpees nearly guarantees that you are going to be huge, not walk, but rather run over my toe in your Rascal as you shop for a collection of mu-mus.
Now, I’m off to the gym, to-go double cheeseburger in hand.
