Would you like to super-size your laziness?

I totally love this weather. We don’t get weather like this that often and I’m taking full advantage of it. To those of you who complained about how long winter was sticking around and are now complaining that it’s “too hot” and you “don’t like the heat,” I’m rolling my eyes and shaking my head at you.

Anyway, I had the misfortune to stop at Wally World last weekend. As usual, the line of cars was moving at a lethargic crawl as various people tried to find that “perfect spot” that was 6 inches from the front door. I was sitting there, trapped behind a minivan waiting for such a spot to open up when it hit me; this is one of the reasons why people in the United States are becoming so fat!

Really folks? In the middle of February I sort of understand looking for premium parking. But on a nice, hot, sunny summer day? I don’t get it.

And here’s the other part that cracks me up; in the time you spent driving around and around looking for your perfect parking spot, you could have already been in the store if you’d been willing to walk a few more steps.

While I’m on the topic of parking lots, do you remember when we were younger and the routine was after you were done unloading your groceries in the car, you returned the cart all the way to the front of the store? We didn’t have these cart corrals all over to spare us the tremendous struggle of pushing an empty shopping cart back to the store. Not that we even bother to push it to the corral. No, we usually just leave our empty cart in the space right next to our car.

All this boils down to super-sized laziness.

The equation for weight loss boils down to a simple equation; move more, eat less. That’s it. Simple. Forget all these stupid gimmicks you see on TV — “lose weight and look like this steroid-enhanced athlete, all without getting off the sofa and putting away that bag of pork rinds” — followed by some stupid shtick about a pill or whatnot.

And even if we insist on parking close and moving less, what about maybe just eating less? Remember what a hamburger and fries looked like back in the 1970s compared to today?

Eyeball a regular McDonald’s cheeseburger sometime. You know, the little value menu thing. See that little burger? That used to be “it.” That’s all. There was no 15-pound, five-layered, 8-inch-tall burger slathered in lard and half-a-pig’s worth of bacon. The burgers were puny by today’s standards. And when people purchased one, they purchased one. If you were really hungry you got the little bag of fries and a large drink (the large back then was smaller than today’s medium).

The other day I was in a hurry and, craving a couple tacos, I swung into Taco Bell. Didn’t really pay attention to the portion size when I ordered a “regular.” So I was shocked when I was handed a bag with my food and a five-gallon bucket full of soda. How in the heck was I supposed to consume this much dang Sierra Mist?

“Excuse me, I ordered a regular,” I said.

“Oh, that is the regular,” the teen-ager replied.

I was almost (almost) tempted to buy a large just to see if it came with a hand truck to tote it out to your pickup. After I empty it, can I bury it and use it as septic tank?

Go online sometime and look up the “hands-free burger” from Burger King. I was laughing so hard when I saw this that I put the picture on my work computer as the background. Yes, it’s true, folks. Burger King is going to start selling little doohickeys that go around your neck (ever seen a musician with a holder on his neck for his harmonica? It’s like that) so you don’t have to be bothered holding your burger while you eat it.

Oh … my … gosh.

Heaven knows it’s such a hassle to hold up my burger while eating it. Oh the times I’ve thought, “Darn this heavy burger!” and had one of my children come over and hold it in front of my mouth for me. Thank you, oh thank you, Burger King for coming to my rescue! Now if you will just start selling pre-chewed meals. I hate having to chew my own food. Hurts my jaw.

Well, that’s all for this week. Time to drive down to McDonald’s and cruise the parking lot until that spot right in front of the door becomes available. Then I’ll waddle inside and order three McKinley Macs.

Ben Compton is a Palmer resident and publishes his column as “Compton’s Corner,” the same title used by his grandmother, Phyllis Compton, a longtime Frontiersman columnist.