Yes I read that scurrilous article in the Times of Malta that claims that we Maltese are the fattest and consequently the most obese in Europe. Rubbish! Rubbish I say!
In fact, when I read it I was actually extremely angry… no, bloody livid. Who writes these things? These supposed EU surveys? When I look around me I see a nation of normal sized people… not too fat, nor too thin… just right.
Take me, for example, I am five eight… in my wellies, and around 95 kilos. I am what my wife describes as cuddly. In fact, her pet name for me is Cuddles. And yes, I can, if I have to… run for a bus, or at any rate waddle at speed.
And before anybody makes any snide remarks about my paunch I have to tell you there is nothing wrong with having a little protuberance out front. It is a testament to having eaten healthily and well for over 40 years – and I am actually rather proud of it.
Further, all those who say I cannot have seen anything below my gut are entirely wrong. I have a full-length mirror in our bedroom and in it I can see everything below my knees. I’ll grant you the area between my knees and my, er… lower abdomen is totally invisible these days, but let’s face it, that part of my anatomy is probably the least photogenic, so no worries then. But if that makes me obese, then so are a hell of a lot of other guys.
So I regard myself as a pretty average sort of a guy… well, average for Malta. But to claim that we Maltese and Gozitans are the most gross and obese folk in the continent is just not true.
Oh sure, we have the occasional bladder of lard; there’s the PM’s tame blogger, wassisname Glen Bountyfield or something. Now he is obese, grotesquely so. Actually that guy has more chins than the Hong Kong telephone directory. But he’s the exception, right, and far from the norm in the Maltese islands.
If you want obese… just check out the Brits and the Krauts
If you want obese… just check out the Brits and the Krauts. On a recent trip to Germany I saw more outlandishly obese people in one afternoon in Munich than I see here in Malta in a year. And they are large with it… huge, some of them.
No, I think we are being victimised by the rest of Europe because we are a small country and they think they can slag us off as a nation of porkers and we won’t kick up a fuss. Wrong!
And as for my wife: that woman is not – repeat not – fat; she is big boned, which is quite a different thing. And everyone knows that can lead an observer to assume corpulence.
OK I’ll concede that her thighs do bang together when she wobbles along – and her backside may well be compared to that of a pregnant hippo… but I would contest the fact that she is in any way obese… gross maybe, but definitely not obese.
But then there is my mother’s sister, Aunty Grace. She – poor lady – is beyond obese… she is gargantuan. Whenever she flies she books two adjoining seats on the aircraft… one for each cheek. She is really not the sort of person to sit next to on the bus, well frankly, it would be impossible to sit next to her… she overlaps on both sides.
The trouble is, of course, the statisticians in Brussels see a few people like Aunty Grace waddling around Malta and think we’re all like that, which we’re not.
For my part, oh sure I like two large helpings of pasta at each meal; but that’s not fattening… it’s a major part of the healthy Mediterranean diet, right? And who ever heard of anyone eating pasta without a sauce containing lots of oil and garlic. Yes I know oil is fattening, but this effect is offset by the garlic, right? So no worries.
I have written to the European Commission on the subject and demanded both a retraction and an apology from them.
And in case you wondered… no I am not holding my breath.