UP FRONT

By Richard Mandel
Editor in Chief

Field of Krispy Kremes

South of that charming smile and sheltered in the broad shade of the double-wide moustache is the body of a Greek God. We’re talking Bacchus here — well, not quite as round as depicted in Disney’s Fantasia, nor stained from the frequent dance with the grape. (I drink but rarely, and primarily for medicinal purposes, thank you.) Nonetheless, I could stand to lose 25-30 pounds, gaining much, I expect, in the process.

I’m minded of my girth by the concurrent appearance of several news items. First was a story regarding the problems EMS units encounter with gurneys insufficiently designed to handle patients weighing more than 350 pounds. Heavier-duty frames have become available which won’t collapse due to the larger patient’s weight, plus they ease the medical team’s task of raising and lowering the patient. A second item was a small article in a safety equipment newsletter, discussing safety harnesses for workers. It seems the standard rating for the harnesses is for someone weighing less than 310 pounds — the article points out that the workforce includes many who exceed that limit. The third item announced Ireland’s exploration of instituting a fatty foods tax in an attempt to curb obesity. (Will Scotland follow suit? The Scots are also fond of heart-stopping treats, such as deep-fried Twinkies and deep-fried Mars bars. Gasp…one can almost hear the arteries cavitating over to this side of the Atlantic.)

Leaving aside arguments about burdens on health insurance, time lost to businesses from weight-related health problems, children addicted to video games instead of playing outside, and without citing examples of famous overweight people dead of weight-aggravated disease, the concept of designing products for the obese does present a unique market. A decade ago, focus was on the aging baby boomer generation, creating or redesigning products for stiffened backs and diminishing vision. There are already markets handling the obvious needs of the handicapped, and the lesser-known needs of the left-handed consumer. For the abundantly-girthed, some airlines offer seatbelt extensions, while camping goods stores carry folding chairs that are wider and stronger than standard. I’ve already noted EMS gurneys; how about handicapped lifts? Office furniture? Just the process of designing a chair for the 350-pound-plus set suggests a need for cushioning materials that can provide the same service as accorded to someone of 200 pounds.

Meanwhile, the newsstand publications and newspapers have waxed long about the obesity problem in our nation, the most recent regarding the connection researchers have drawn between urban sprawl and abdominal sprawl. The worst-case scenario may be what happened to the Roman Empire — the leaders grew fat and lazy, making it easy for the lean, hungry barbarians to invade. Still, we love our comfort foods — the meatloaf and mashed potatoes a-brim with gravy, the hot-fudge sundae, and my standby, the cheeseburger and fries. I haven’t enough frequent-fryer miles to qualify for a stomach stapling, perhaps, but offer me some well-made, crisp onion rings, and I’ll invent national secrets to divulge just to get at ’em.

Here’s my modest proposal, based on my own sedentary workday spent in supplication at my keyboard and monitor: Eliminate the office chair and work desk. Substitute a LifeCycle-like machine coupled to a generator that provides 2 hours of computer power for 10-15 minutes of moderate workout. Program the computer with appropriate lights and whistles to warn when it’s time to start pedaling again. A simple system of racks and surfaces will give space for phones, document holders, printouts, a jar of celery sticks, and the diet-beverage of choice. Need back support? Design the pedals and seat in the same layout as a recumbent bike. I can see only one drawback to this — I’ll be calling a company after stoking the battery, panting away. The person at the other end of the connection will think I’m making an obscene call, and have the line traced. Ah, well, running from the authorities burns calories, too.