A little addition to your vocabulary today: Coulrophobia. I’ll wait while you look it up.
So, I was reading the paper one Sunday afternoon and saw a photo of Ronald McDonald in one of the sections. This long-time spokesperson for McDonald’s has never ever, ever, ever, ever made me want a Happy Meal. Or a Quarter Pounder. It comes closer to making me want a Whopper. Until, that is, that creepy, plastic-smiled king-clown-looking burger mascot came on the scene. Remember those commercials where the person woke up and the ‘king’ was in the bed with him? Creepers! Now I wish we had a Wendy’s in town. I think I can take down a Pippy Longstocking look-alike if the need arises.
The point of the article was that this fun-loving-big-red-shoed clown is responsible for a generation of obese children. Egad! I thought it was lack of exercise and unhealthy eating. I had no idea this fictional character was entering homes, tying up parents and forcing children to eat trans fats.
Corporate Accountability International is the “watchdog” group calling for the retirement of Ronald McDonald (RM, for future reference). Evidently the fictional character is one of the main perpetrators responsible for encouraging kids to eat junk food. However, I can’t remember a single time that I have seen RM actually eat a fry or sip a milk shake. Plus, he’s lean and fit looking. I mean, really, haven’t you seen this dude run and skip and hop around as he plays the role of Pied Piper to the food pit for so many poor, unsuspecting, impressionable children?
To present both sides, the above mentioned group says that the fast food company should stop marketing junk food to kids in all aspects. No clown, no toys, and just to make sure they cover all the bases, they add “whatever form they take,” talking about marketing ploys.
No toys with a Happy Meal? How many of you from my generation used to empty the cereal box into the Z-size Tupperware bowl just to get the prize? They stopped including toys, but I suspect because it was too expensive for the cereal company and not because the tiny plastic trivet was reeling kids into choco-sugar induced comas. The whole reason Happy Meals are happy is because there is a toy inside! Moms and Dads across the land are paying $5 for the toy, not the food inside. It’s the novelty that’s the draw.
And with that last sentence is the issue: Moms and Dads across the land. Kids don’t get to RM’s crib on their own. They are taken there. Most children don’t order for themselves. Their parents order for them. Most obese children aren’t alone. Their moms and dads are obese, too.
Remember the lady who spilled coffee on her thighs because she put the cup between her legs as she tried to remove the lid? Remember that she was awarded several million dollars? And all because McDonald’s hot coffee was, indeed, hot. Very not. She was, indeed, injured. Very injured. And a jury of her peers decided that it was McDonald’s fault that they served their hot coffee … hot.
Have you seen how cute those MandMs are on the commercials? I don’t care if they are plain or peanut, they are adorable! And they talk! MandMs are full of witty banter as well as deliciousness. I wonder if I could bring a lawsuit against Mars Company for making their advertising so darned compelling, causing me to buy a bag of MandMs against my will, and gobble them down, causing me to be totally distracted from getting on the treadmill.
Have you noticed how big dinner plates are getting? Dinner plates used to be 10 inches, but they are now a minimum of 12 inches! Can you imagine?! I wonder if I can sue all manufacturers of 12 inch dinner plates for making me eat more and therefore become overweight and unhealthy. After all, I am going to fill my plate and if the only plate readily available is a larger plate, I am unwittingly eating more. I can’t be expected to regulate my own portions! Goodness!
How about those irresistibly plush sofas and chairs that are being made today? Have you sat on a down-filled cushion lately? It’s like sitting on a cloud from heaven. I can hardly make myself get off the couch, especially when a compelling television show is on right in front of the sofa. I wonder how long I would have to search for an attorney to take my case against furniture makers and television executives. After all, if it weren’t for them, I would be up and moving; Exercising; Being heart-healthy.
Come to think of it, when the power was off, I got more exercise, more sleep and I ate better. Yes! It’s the electric co-op’s fault for making my life so very sedentary. It is not now, nor will it ever be my fault for … well, anything. I can’t be held responsible. I didn’t do it, but it was done to me. I had little to no control over the situation. Everyone, including big, red clown with the flaming red hair made me fat! Well, everyone but me.
Here is another word for you: Hypengyophobia.
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