Hurricane Irene…The Big Sneeze

Yawn. Never, in the field of meteorological conflict, has a hurricane, even a downgraded Category 1 version, been more hyped than Irene. The news media and weather “experts”, capitalizing on a slow August news day, week, month, succeeded in whipping up a storm about the potentially damaging effects of this hurricane, because for sure that’s all it will be. And that’s all it was, at least here in the big metrolops of New York.

With more hype than even the Next Big Thing from Apple, or P.T. Barnum’s circus, Mayor Bloomberg, anxious not to repeat his bungling of last winter’s major snowstorm, spoke for hours on the city preparations, including the evacuation of downtown and other likely areas of serious flooding. History will show this to have been a massive overreaction.  

Panic induced purchasing, allowing supermarket staff to clean those previously harder to reach surfaces, resembled the onset of a nuclear winter, or a full-scale assault on Mt. Everest with staples such as bread, water and beer taking a hammering. OK, so some were Budweisers and Bud Light, what we call canoe beer…damned close to water.

One chap in the checkout line appeared to strike the right balance; two six-packs, Cheezy Whatsits, some crisps and, presumably for the wife, some tins of soup.  

Manhattan became a ghost town, with Broadway shows cancelled, all subway and bus service stopped from midday yesterday, and mainline service severely curtailed. Subway trains were stored in the tunnels, rather than open marshalling yards to prevent damage.  On reflection, a good clean in the driving rain might have been more useful.  

Local preparations saw one apartment owner taping up his large picture windows. On the 15^th floor no less! He’ll probably explain it now as decorating tape. Stores closed one hour earlier than the transport shut down to allow the slaves to scurry back to the outer boroughs. Or should that be burrows?

“Hurricane” preparedness doesn’t mean stocking up on the fruit-juice, grenadine and rum to make the signature drink beloved of New Orleans’s Bourbon Street. No, it means listening to endless TV (meaning CNN, home of Crap News Nonstop) coverage of screaming, rain-soaked, wind-swept talking heads on the idiot box (or idiot heads on the talking box), taking every opportunity to don fluorescent raincoats, take it on the chin, in their hair and ears suffering for their craft and talk into the wind to show us what earnest, and at times stupid, reporters they really are. Hopefully one of them will be blown over for a little light relief, providing amusing fodder for “blooper” shows.  

Of course, major weather systems provide easy news reporting, away from the dismal economy, and unrest in the world, but those of us who have lived in the Caribbean scoff at these over the top preparations. Anything over 100 miles away isn’t a threat as its track can change on a whim, so no need to secure the patio chairs. In fact hurricane preparedness generally means stocking up on beer and ice, calling friends and deciding the location of the “after” party.  

So, will the news networks feel contrite about their over the top coverage? Probably not, after all there’s nothing like made for TV coverage with trees whipsawing in gale force winds, jetties and piers being swept by massive rollers, holiday homes being trashed, low lying parking lots flooding up to car windows and so on and so on. And let’s not forget shots of burly rescue squads boating down the high street in their Zodiac inflatables, hopefully rescuing a dog along the way. 

The 2011 Big Sneeze - sudden gusts of wind followed by a massive spit shower.

Related articles

• Hurricane Irene closes in on an anxious New York (theglobeandmail.com)

Air Rage

CNN reported this week that an airline passenger was arrested and accused of assaulting flight attendants. Apparently he became angry when asked to put away his electronic cigarette.

After being warned twice by the flight attendant he responded by throwing peanuts and pretzels at the flight attendant. .

This really is too much don’t you think?

I don’t blame the passenger; it’s the airlines that are at fault. They started it, and it happens on every flight in America. Flight attendants have been throwing peanuts and pretzels at passengers for years now. 

They call it airline food. 

American Independence Day and American English

Image via Wikipedia

American writing has surely gone downhill faster than you can say John Hancock, the Massachusetts President of the Congress, whose name became synonymous with clarity as being the only well-written signature on the Declaration of independence. Taking up a whole five inches, Hancock's large and flamboyant signature became iconic, emerging in the United States as an informal synonym for "signature". As in “put your John Hancock on the dotted lined”. There were fifty-six delegates to the Second Continental Congress (hence the name for one of the two Houses in American politics, Senate being the other) and who can forget one of the three Georgia delegates who signed, the impossibly named Button Gwinnett.

The United States Declaration of Independence is a statement adopted by the Continental Congress on July 4, 1776, which announced that the thirteen American colonies then at war with Great Britain were now independent states, and thus no longer a part of the British Empire. Written primarily by Thomas Jefferson, the Declaration is a formal explanation of why Congress had voted on July 2 to declare independence from Great Britain, more than a year after the outbreak of the American Revolutionary War. The birthday of the United States of America, Independence Day, is celebrated on July 4, the day the wording of the Declaration was approved by Congress.

After finalizing the text on July 4, Congress issued the Declaration of Independence in several forms. It was initially published as a printed broadside that was widely distributed and read to the public. The most famous version of the Declaration, a signed copy that is usually regarded as the Declaration of Independence, is on display at the National Archives in Washington, D.C. Although the wording of the Declaration was approved on July 4, the date of its signing has been disputed. Most historians have concluded that it was signed nearly a month after its adoption, on August 2, 1776, and not on July 4 as is commonly believed.

The sources and interpretation of the Declaration have been the subject of much scholarly inquiry. The Declaration justified the independence of the United States by listing colonial grievances against King George III, and by asserting certain natural and legal rights, including a right of revolution. Having served its original purpose in announcing independence, the text of the Declaration was initially ignored after the American Revolution. Its stature grew over the years, particularly the second sentence, a sweeping statement of human rights: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights (and a penis), that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness”. Which is what the wife of a French diplomat once told Queen Elizabeth II at a state banquet. When asked what she wanted most of all, the wife replied “a penis”. Or at least that is what Her Majesty heard, what she of course actually mean was “‘appiness”.

This sentence has been called "and "the most potent and consequential words in American history" and “one of the best-known sentences in the English language" presumably second only to “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth”. Genesis 1: 1

Allow me to vent a little here, on the vagaries of American English. Tell me, if you’re going to “visit with” someone, are you telling me who you are taking along. Is this what you intended?

Also, if you write the Pope, that means you actually write, in letters, on a piece of paper, the words “the Pope”. Remember you write “to” someone.

And finally, that awful example of American English, the truly dreadful “in back”. If you mean “behind” please say so!

I stand to be corrected.

Happy Independence Day everyone!

Make the most of it because judging from the number of British voices on the streets of Manahattan, I think we're taking it back one at a time.

Oh and by the way, when hanging around the BBQ dishing up your best grilling techniques, best not to inquire from which part of the cow the hot dogs originate. A valid question on any other day, yes, but it’s really not polite, not on July 4^th.  After all you might be asked to defend pork pies, or worse, haggis. And trust me when I say there aren’t enough hours in the day, and if there were, nobody but nobody can explain haggis. Who else but the thrifty Scots would steal a horses feedbag, fill it with onions and a sheeps innards (including the pluck. A pluck, a pluck, WTF's a pluck?) and boil it for hours. Not surprisingly they wash it down with "a wee dram". I should hope so!

Related articles

• Fourth of July Myths Debunked (news.nationalgeographic.com)

The Female Brain

Cover of The Female Brain

This week, Steve Kissing, an independent commentator reviewed the book “The Female Brain,” by Louann Brizendine, M.D. Although male and females are equals in the biggest sense of the word our bodies are different, and so too are our brains. No guys, we’re not talking size here, women actually see things differently. No surprise there, right chaps? After all we often wonder where the hell women come from…usually left field.

Well, there’s a reason for all of this and there’s absolutely no point in trying to understand it since it’s one of the world’s greatest truisms that women are impossible to fathom. Greater men have tried and been found wanting so, if you do succeed, you’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din.

Some of the key insights are as follows. Perhaps if we males try and understand them the world will become a better place and communicating with our women will become easier. Hopefully we’ll be more of one mind…yes, ours! See for yourself.

She remembers more

The hippocampus, that part of the brain mostly responsible for memories, is larger in women. That’s why women are better at retaining memories. Yes, the good ones and the bad ones, like that time you bought her a Thigh-master, the Dust-buster for the car, or the multi-speed food processor. Yes, I know they are noisy, have different speeds and are useful appliances, but they have no business on a gift list. Not unless you want the deaf and dumb breakfast all week.

And worse, those dreaded first date, kiss, holding hands, six month anniversary-type details which ladies, and this is important, are not ingrained in our minds because…they don’t matter! They’re history; you got your man, move on.

Learning point: If you don’t remember it, she will, so give it up, you can’t win.

She cries for a reason

And yes it is an attention getter, unless of course it’s at the end of Casablanca or the Sound of Music which she must have seen at least a dozen times, in which case it’s just a waste of Kleenex. Turns out that female brains, or is it brain there isn’t that much there surely, are wired to cry four times as much as we manly men. And it’s precisely because of our manly posture that results in tears on demand. We macho men aren’t too good at picking up subtle emotional cues in others (anger being an exception). Really, who knew? Sometimes tears are the only way for women to be noticed; otherwise we will continue to watch the latest episode of “Ice Road Truckers.”, with all the rapt attention it deserves.

Learning point: If you wish your wife cried less, paying attention to her tears. Catch them early and she can save the other three times for later; when it really counts. But be kind; tell her you’ll get back to her at the end of the two hour show “How to build things bigger”. And of course, after she’s brought out a few brewskies for you and the lads. In fact some sandwiches would be nice too. She’ll see you right. 

Her instincts are solid

The parts of the brain linked to gut feelings are larger and more discerning in women. So disregard “woman’s intuition” at your peril; except for her giving directions whilst we are driving the car which, as we all know, is completely taboo since we men are never wrong. Even if we have to turn the radio down, but whatever you do, you never, ever, ever ask for directions. You will instantly lose all respect.   

Learning point: None in this case; Eve leads by two to Adam’s one

Her head is filled with words.

Now, watch your step here, this is an exceedingly dangerous area so we must tread carefully. We are in uncharted waters with dangerous shoals everywhere, and the added danger of pop-up storms, tornados, thunder and lightning.

A woman’s language center of the brain works differently than ours. As a daily average, women will speak some 20,000 words, while we guys utter about 7,000. It gets technical here so try and keep up Bond. They may also string words together into something called sentences, and constantly ask how do we feel, and why can’t we talk to them, I mean really talk to them. Sounds familiar uh? Not that they’re really interested, no it’s their way of dragging us up to be their equal in the gabfest they call conversation. Why does this matter? Who knows? Do we even care?

Thing is, a lot of words are spoken, but they don’t actually say anything; it’s just a background noise, a sort of low hum like an air-conditioner in summer. It’s there, it’s on all the time but you don’t always hear it; it’s the same with women. My wife calls it the passing train syndrome; best illustrated using the Doppler Effect.  Picture this, you’re lounging on the couch watching the TV, and you become aware of a noise that wasn’t there before. It gets louder, closer, louder, closer, some words you hear some you don’t; such as ....don’t forget...tomorrow night...be late...and as the sound recedes the TV beckons.  The next evening the reality of your convenient ears hits home as you answer the phone, not realizing how hot it is, to be confronted by one angry wife asking “where the hell are you?” I know, I know, it’s happened to you right? Unfortunately, the words missing or at least those that didn’t register as you watched Monday Night Football were...we’re going out...don’t....What’s the fuss about you ask? You continue digging your own grave telling her that the missing words you heard, or rather assumed you heard were...I’m going out...I might ...Easy to see where the confusion arose.  

It’s the continuous noise you see, which is why we men sometimes struggle to focus on all 20,000 words, and why we sometimes struggle to find the right words unless, of course, we’re telling fart jokes, in which case the words flow effortlessly.

Learning point: Try and listen harder to all of the words, and respond aloud, but not with “yes, dear”, they don’t like that one. Above all, recognize that sometimes talking is her way of processing. “Talk it out” as Pat Sajak says to the final contestant on the Wheel of Fortune game-show. Do you remember when (cue for a song) as a novice reader, following the words with your finger? Well for women, talking aloud is a similar process; it’s just something they have to do.

And this reminds me of a famous ad in the classifieds:

“Complete set of Encyclopedia Britannica for Sale; Wife knows everything”.

Yeow, something just hit the back of my head….

Related articles

• Why Men and Women Shed Different Kinds of Tears (foxnews.com)
• Hey Dude: Can You Hear Me Now? (wycd.radio.com)

Heavens Above - The Future of Flying

Specialist engineers at Airbus, the European aircraft manufacturer, have drafted plans for the future of flight in 2050. Known as the “Concept Plane” their plans include a completely transparent fuselage that will allow passengers to the see the stars above and city lights below. The concept would be a bionic structure that mimics the efficiency of bird bone, providing strength where needed but still giving passengers open, panoramic views. Apparently the airplane dissolves into thin air, as if erased by an invisible hand. As Airbus puts it, first the cabin roof disappears, then the floor, and from one moment to the next, the passengers will feel like they have lost their grip on anything solid. Someone losing their grip, that’s for sure.

Fortunately a transparent airplane like this one is nothing more than a technological fantasy, in which the plane's outer skin could be made of a futuristic type of ceramic which, at the push of a button, would send electricity flowing through the material, rendering it transparent. Now that would be useful on weekend nights out.

The cabin will also have organically-grown seats that sense passengers’ needs and adapt for the perfect fit. That really would be a technological first for the airline industry. Travelers will be able to read bedtime stories to their children back home, Airbus said. If you ask me, pretty much all of these ideas sound like a bed-time story.

"Passengers in an airplane like this would experience flight in a completely new way" enthused Krein, the Airbus head of research and technology. "We told our engineers to give their imaginations free rein," Krein explains. "What emerged were completely realistic visions of flight in the year 2050. Our people are grounded in reality, after all. And most of the necessary technology already exists." Interesting choice of words here, it is surely impossible to predict 38 years into the future and then argue how grounded your people are!

Another idea involves sensors that could detect hairline cracks anywhere in the aircraft, with microscopic nano-capsules that would be released to seal the fissure. "The airplane almost becomes a living organism this way," Krein says. I think that’s the last thing we need. What about the living organisms inhabiting the bathrooms and the “airline food”, and the seat covers? Don’t worry there’ll be an App. for that! Airbus' developers have envisioned nano-materials that would allow seats to clean themselves, a system more hygienic than employing cleaning crews, and cheaper. "In the future," Krein suggests, "each passenger will feel he or she is sitting on a brand new airplane about to take off on its maiden flight." Yeah right, like this would actually happen.

Anti-turbulence sensors could make a further contribution to passenger comfort. These would detect unpleasant air pockets ahead (too much fiber in the toy food?) allowing the aircraft to adjust its navigation automatically, without assistance from the pilots. So, despite technological advancements in adjusting the skin of the aircraft the engineers won’t be able to replace the bag of bones we call a pilot.

Still, it’s always useful to have a pilot onboard all dressed in his Sunday best uniform, lots of braid on the peaked cap, very reassuring for the pax. By 2050 “George” will be flying the plane on autopilot at all times, pretty much as he does now, but the co-pilot’s seat will be empty. Well, not quite empty because sitting up with ears perked, will be a dog. Why a dog? It’s obvious really, while the plane will be technologically perfect at flying the plane, the dog will be trained to attack the instant the pilot attempts to meddle with the controls.

Since this aircraft of the future will be automatic where nothing can go wrong, nothing can go wrong, prankster pilots will amuse themselves by conducting safety checks inside the aircraft, starting at the rear and walking forward, accompanied by the said dog, and carrying a white stick.

To reduce fuel consumption and jet engine noise, Airbus engineers are planning a revolution in aircraft construction. The jet engines will be embedded into the fuselage at the rear, rather than under the wings and by using a more aerodynamic shape, and framed by a curved tail plane, these engines would make for a more streamlined aircraft, as well as directing most of their noise upward. But such engines are inaccessible and so more costly to maintain. But don’t worry peoples, the folks at Airbus assume we will be using maintenance or nearly maintenance-free engines by 2050. Well which is it?

 Also, if the Airbus engineers have their way, future passengers may contribute to reductions in fuel costs themselves, as their body heat would be collected and fed into onboard systems using heat exchangers. Fortunately there's a precedent for this use of body heat; farmers built their barns to allow bovine warmth to heat the farmhouse. Or pigs in the piggery, which is pretty much what it feels like flying jam-packed planes of the early 20th century.

Have you noticed anything with these “grounded in reality” suggestions? Well, airplane manufacturers have are very focused regarding who pays their bills. That’s right, the airlines. None of these ideas would benefit the bums on seats. Think about this for a moment. Average flying speeds haven’t increased since the 1960’s (imagine?), Concorde has come and gone like a puff of wind never to be bested. Airline foods are more of an oxymoron than ever before and as for seat pitch, give me a break. With proposed saddle seats and standing room only, as suggested by some of the nuttiest airline CEO’s around, I think we can honestly say that the traveling public hasn’t benefited a damn since the introduction of the Boeing 747 “Jumbo” in the early 70’s. Sure there have been incremental benefits, but there have been no significant advances in flight or space flight of any sort since Concorde, the Jumbo jet and the Apollo moon-shots, all of which were children of the 1970’s; a sad, sad situation.

Aircraft designers now think that traditional passenger aircraft design has run its course in terms of wringing further efficiencies from it. New proposals have two partial cylinders joined lengthwise, helps to promote lift, with the forward cockpit area tilted upwards. Also lighter and slimmer wings to reduce weight with the turbines mounted behind the fuselage allowing a smaller tail area. Of course the wings can’t be too small otherwise the gas tank will have a more limited range. Flying wings are popular with plane designers, but they impose operating problems such as longer boarding times, and for many passengers, no easy access to a window or door. Sitting in such an aircraft, especially at the wingtip, will give a whole new meaning to banking turn; probably requiring larger barf bags.

Announced last summer Airbus has been quietly refining its “Concept Plane”, and provided new details only this month, on their newly launched Future Airbus Website. According to Airbus "A third of the 10,000 people that took part in our global Passenger 2050 survey said that they want the flight itself to feel like a holiday experience and…access all the technological advances which fill their daily lives during the flight." What a waste of 9,999 opinions! Of course we want a flight to feel like a holiday instead of the jam-packed sardine can experience flying cattle class. Duh!

Airbus says that bad seats will be so last year (ho, ho, in the future all seats will be really bad?). The Concept Plane will also ditch traditional first, business, and economy classes, and incorporate individual areas such as the terribly worded Vitalizing Zone. Pause for nausea. This Zone will include vitamin and antioxidant-enriched air, mood lighting, aromatherapy and acupressure treatments. Acupressure is an ancient healing art using the fingers to gradually press key healing points, which stimulate the body's natural self-curative abilities. Developed in Asia over 5,000 years ago, acupressure points are stimulated to relieve pain, balance body energy, and maintain good health. Acupressure's healing touch also reduces muscular tension, increases circulation, and enables deep relaxation. To some of us this is more commonly known as sleeping. Acupressure shouldn’t be confused with acupuncture which uses needles to stimulate pressure points, a function already performed by airline seats.

Let’s not forget the Interactive Zone, where virtual pop-up projections will take passengers to whichever social scene they want to be (how about my destination, and make it snappy), even with holographic gaming and virtual changing rooms for active shoppers.

Finally, there’s the Smart Tech Zone, tailored towards the more functional-oriented passenger, describes by Airbus as "a chameleon-style offering, to meet individual needs ranging from a simple to a complete luxury service, but all allowing you to continue life as if on the ground". Good to know when travelling aboard an Airbus plane, we’ll always be “in the zone”.

The Airbus EVP of Engineering commented”The Airbus Concept Cabin…shows that the journey can be as much a voyage of discovery as the destination", paraphrasing Tao who said “The journey is the reward”. Ah yes…beam me up Scotty and let’s boldly go…

 

Life is a cabaret…

The signs were good. A two day oppressive heat-wave, reaching 95 degrees (F) in the shade, was expected to close with pop-up thunder-storms, lightening and occasional torrential downpours. Perfect weather to brave a one block walk around the corner for our weekly date night in a very friendly Italian trattoria. You see, the Upper East Side alta cacas don’t like to venture out in the rain, so we expected a nice quiet evening where the drinks are free, and everyone knows your name. Also, the hand-made pizzas are excellent, well most of the time.

Approaching the entrance, the sky turned black (metaphorically speaking) as we realized, with horror and loathing, that there were people sitting at our bar. Our bar! It is a fact that our interest in this restaurant over the years has changed the small corner bar area into a money-paying source of revenue for the resto. We started the trend of sitting at the bar for an actual drink.  

Furthermore they didn’t look like locals. Apparently the evenings free Central Park Concert was likely canceled due to the inclement weather and the risk of lightning strikes. The headline act was American hip-hop band, the Black-Eyed Peas, or as they would have quickly become in the rain, Black-Eyed Mushy Peas. Also slated to appear was Tony Bennett, a sop for the 5^th Avenue matrons perhaps.

In one corner were disappointed concert-goers, the youth of today, dressed in their finest scruffery, various piercings, and the inevitable hand-held devices.  The other corner held a small group of ladies-who-lunch, much smarter dressed. A quick look at the bar eats (to gauge or wait time for seats) which might delay our customary perch, revealed dishes of mussels preventing an imminent departure. Keeping a watchful eye open we waited it out at a table, chewing on the bread and olive oil, ready to pounce. At last, the ladies-must-have-lunched too much because they began to leave. But not without incident I might add. My wife took the first chair and before you could say “that’s mine” a lady (or so I assumed, but as they say, never Assume…otherwise you’ll make an Ass out of U and Me) came in, issued a take-out order, left her belongings on the bar-stool and, get this, went supermarket shopping. This, requiring a four block walk in the high humidity of the evening was incredible. She had to know it would be a while for her order, and although she saw me standing there (cue for a song), wasn’t nice enough to offer her seat until she came back. I said to myself, self, was she brought up or dragged up?    

Of course I kept the seat warm for her, what else is a gentleman to do? So now we’re off to the races; beer, wine, and a casual discussion of the day’s events. 

Finally the mussel-munchers made the universal sign for the check, divvied up the cash and began to take their leave. Assembling themselves and their stuff they resembled a group of cats chasing each other. Enough already, ship out!

Behind us a young married couple, and their latest pride and joy, were busy raising the noise level with a very vocal young child of around 18 months. He was not having a good day. And why do such people think it’s a good idea to take the fledgling out at that age. “Look at us” it says, “look what we’ve got”. Why? Why? Typically Pops, good old Pops sat there positively relishing his oven-roasted sole and green vegetables while harassed Momsy had to walk around the little tyke twice, leaving her pizza untouched and growing cold. Even Grandpops had a go, none too successfully we noted.

The young scruffs were replaced by four ladies, all wearing black tops. We felt underdressed, must have missed the memo. Sitting down in a row, out came the cell-phones except for the greedy pig with her snout in the menu.  We soon saw the reason, a thick and juicy Kobe beef-Burger with Parmesan crusted Fries (and irregular capitalization). Confounding us, she picked up her knife and fork. Surely not, please no. Americans, very intelligent people but put them in charge of the flatware and it’s not a pretty sight. Common sense flies out the window as they swap the fork this way and that.  And have you seen the way they clasp the fork, like they have some form of arthritic joint deformity.

Finally, the pizza. They make a very nice margherita with nubbins of sweet sausage, served piping hot, complete with a surprise hidden underneath. A little “je nais sais quoi” you might say. We do know actually, we call it charcoal. Scusi cameriere? Pizza-boy must have taken his eye off the ball with this one. Back it goes, instantly, a quick apology, no rancor, no petulance.  No-one getting Gordon Ramseyed. Within minutes its replacement arrives, that must be one hot oven. This time…perfect.  

Obesity Epidemic

It was reported in Britain last year that children’s playground slides and clothes are expanding in-line with waist-lines. Apparently the width of slides had increased a staggering 50% due to the average increase in 2 to 8 year old waists of about four inches, which, taken with the increase in obesity over the last decade results in 30% of British children being classed as overweight. Don’t know about you, but I dug out my old school class photos, and I can honestly say there were no fat kids in our class. Why would there be; we walked to school, played football in the school yard, and had gym and swimming classes once a week, along with football/rugby for 2 hours

One woman said her seven-year old daughter wears clothes for a 12 to 13 year old. The mother added “But we shouldn't take it for granted that clothes can keep getting bigger and bigger". I think I see the problem here; unless all clothes are elasticised, kids will have a hard time putting them on. So that’s the problem, the clothes not the fat kids. How about changing behaviour, taking responsibility for ones actions? Apparently not.  

One leading academic claimed that the current obesity epidemic has nothing to do with modern sedentary lifestyles and is entirely down to eating too much. You get paid for these truisms? In 2010 the UK’s Daily Telegraph reported that Professor John Speakman, a biologist working at the University of Aberdeen, Institute of Biological and Environmental Sciences believes that, despite appearances, overall physical activity levels have remained constant for the last quarter of a century during which time weight levels have rocketed. Average men and women burn between 1380 and 950 calories per day in the 1980s and continue to do so today. But (or should that be Butt?) calorie intake has increased by over a third to average 3,500 calories a day. Directing the University's Energetics Research Group, one of the world's leading groups using doubly labeled water (DLW) to investigate energy expenditure and balance in animals Speakman made many contributions to the development of the DLW method, culminating in a 416 page book entitled "Doubly labeled water: theory and practice" published in 1997 that remains the standard reference work for applications of this methodology in humans and other animals.

Sadly, the application for “other animals” has not been tested rigorously as researchers can’t get them to open the book and read the instructions.

His research also criticizes those who believe increased physical activity can offset obesity, saying that “enormous changes in energy balance are needed...that can only realistically be achieved through changes in diet." While promoting exercise for health reasons, more worryingly for treadmill joggers and other casual athletes is that one hour of intensive exercise will only use up on average 300 calories, the equivalent of a small sandwich. And we’re talking a British sandwich here, not an American all-you-can-eat Dagwood Special.  

At which, all around the world, couch potatoes are heaving themselves out of their sofas, and rejoicing “We told you it wouldn’t work. So piss off while I pour this gallon of ice cream down my neck”. 

Here in the US, researchers estimate that the obesity epidemic costs $147 billion a year, or 10% of all medical spending. And there’s more; such spend has doubled in less than 10 years. Dr Thomas Frieden, director of the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), told a news conference that "Reversing obesity is not going to be done successfully with individual effort...it will be done successfully as a society." Good luck with that one.

More than 26 per cent of Americans are obese, which means they have a body mass index of 30 or higher. Predictably the highest rates were in the South, Appalachia, and some Plains areas. All of which are likely to have poor access to proper education, and healthy eating choices. One study in Canada even revealed that the risk of heart attacks increases significantly in areas crowded with fast-food joints. Well, there’s a surprise!

A simple example illustrates how difficult it will be for society to change, if it even wants to. How much sugar is there in a standard 12 ounce can of Coke? A lot, and far more than you could possibly think palatable. There are about 40 grams of sugar, or ten teaspoons or 20 sugar cubes; the entire daily recommended intake of sugar for an adult. In. One. Can. Not for nothing is it sometimes called Full Fat Coke, as opposed to the Diet Coke option. Even in Britain construction workers and the like would balk at adding that much to their “Builder's tea”, the nickname for their strong, milky tea with two sugars taken on quick work-breaks.

The results are plain to see; strengthened and wider wheelchairs, hospital beds, gurneys and coffins.  In Huntington, West Virginia, a local funeral director advised that sales of XXL wide coffins have tripled, and they have even installed winches and cranes in the funeral parlor as ”we’ve had some pretty good-sized ones lately”. According to him it isn’t dignified to winch someone out of their homes (nor is wallowing in a recliner surely) and so they have to struggle to carry them. And, because hearses aren’t yet wide enough, they have to be transported in cargo vans. In Ohio in 2011 one morbidly obese man had to be cut out of his recliner and his home to be hospitalized.    

Anyway the problem may have been solved. The US Department of Agriculture (USDA) has replaced its “tired out, overly complex” food pyramid (even with a symbolic staircase to encourage regular exercise) with a new healthy eating symbol “My Plate”. Represented by a simple circle My Plate is divided into quadrants that contain fruits, vegetables, protein and grains, along with a top right smaller circle to accommodate the dairy industry lobby. 

Robert Post of USDA's Center for Nutrition Policy and Promotion says "There is something really inviting about this familiar setting for meal time." Assuming everyone knows how to use a plate, which is questionable. After all have you seen Americans eating in restaurants? They can’t even use a knife and fork properly. Also scores of children are now confused not knowing where to put the Double Mac ‘N Cheeseburger which has vegetables, protein and grains, even dairy, though not necessarily in the right proportions.

In addition to telling people to drastically reduce salt and continue limiting saturated fats, the most recent set of guidelines asked diners to enjoy food but balance calories by eating less and taking smaller portions. It also suggested making half of your plate fruits and vegetables. You’ve got your work cut out with that one. It’s a fact of life here in the US that the majority of males, for example, can’t stomach a salad or any green vegetables. Check out plates when diners have finished eating.

Anyway, the real reason the food pyramid didn’t work? Mr. and Mrs. Gutbuckets apparently thought that food should be piled onto the plate to look like a pyramid! Such an easy mistake to make. They understand the new symbol much better. But it does taste a lot like cardboard, are we supposed to eat it, is it really that good for me?

Bon Appétit!