Fat chance: Don't blame Hamburgler for waistline

Being Frank, by Frank Ameduri

Hi. My name is Frank, and I'm a french fry addict …

Those words could soon ring out in badly-ventilated office spaces in every city throughout the land of the free and the home of frivolous lawsuits. John Banzhaf is out to lower your cholesterol count, and he's willing to sue Ronald McDonald right out of his big, red shoes to do it.

Banzhaf who, along with his law students at George Washington University, has legally shamed the likes of Spiro Agnew, The Washington Cosmos Club and big tobacco, has now set his sights on the fast food industry. In the global neighborhood, Americans are the fattest kids on the block, and about 300,000 of us die early each year as a result of it -- we also spend more than $100 billion annually on flab-related medical bills. Banzhaf believes he can follow the clues straight back to Mayor McCheese and the rest of the junk-food goodfellas pedaling fat-soaked french fries, grease-dripping burgers and soft drinks to an unsuspecting public.

In the assault against the tobacco industry, the battle lines were clear. People were addicted -- really. I'm still addicted to the nicotine I get in Skoal Long-cut Classic. People get sick from tobacco use, and many of them die young. It's not a myth. It's also pretty clear that big-time tobacco targeted a young demographic.

The war on junk-food seems a little looser around the waist, though. I like burgers. I mean, I really like them. In fact, just writing about burgers has me wishing I had a No. 1 value meal here in front of me right now. I'm weak, I'll admit it. I don't think I'm addicted to all-beef patties, though. As bad as I have wanted a big, juicy burger from time to time, I can't say it was anything more than a run-of-the-mill craving. I've had a burger and a shake, but I've never had the shakes for the lack of a burger -- let's put it that way.

Still, I want my slice of litigation pie. I missed out on the class-action action when the states cashed in on tobacco. I'm going for my cholesterol cash-out while the grill is still hot. This is a war against those who would take advantage of my freedom of choice. They know I can make all kinds of choices, and they tempt me with things that taste and feel good. This war will level the playing field. General Banzhaf will bravely protect me from myself.

The war on fat may soon begin in the courtroom, but it can't stop there. This is a serious problem, and early numbers indicate the number of fat addicts is likely quadruple that of tobacco addicts and more than 30 times the number of crack addicts. A fat Czar must be named -- Jerod from the Subway commercials is on the short list -- and law enforcement agencies must take a more active role. The free-flow of french fries, ingeniously frozen and hidden in brown bags -- should be targeted first. The potato cartel in Idaho will have to be shut down if the spread of waistlines is to be stemmed.

Also, we shouldn't blame the junk-food junkies for their problem. They've been duped into the dark life of lard addiction, and we must come to grips with their position as McVictims. I, myself, will gladly take a number twice each week at a government-sponsored clinic where I can get my Olestra fix and a four-day supply of Depends undergarments. I'll do that knowing that my lard addiction will likely never be cured. I'll always be a recovering fataholic, and I hope Dave Thomas is rolling over in his grave thinking about that. The Hamburgler stole my life, but I am strong, and I'll get it back, God willing, with the help of six years of counseling and my fair share of a class-action lawsuit.

Once I've been clean for a year, I'm going after the other pushers out there who prey on people like me -- people with no self-control. Let's face it, if it weren't for automobile manufacturers and breweries, there would be no drunk drivers. Look out Michigan. Look out Golden and St. Louis. You tempted me with fast cars and toasted oats and barley beverages, and now you're gonna pay.

After that, it'll be electronics manufacturers who have tricked me into buying televisions, stereos and computers … and also the manufacturers of climate control devices, like heaters, who make it appealing to stay inside to use all my gadgets while swallowing burger after burger and chewing tobacco like a wild-eyed heroin fiend. When Banzhaf and I are finished, we'll all be living in natural grass huts and nibbling modest amounts of tofu between long, healthy stretches working the soy fields. On second thought …

Frank Ameduri is managing editor of Frontiersman