'I don't want her, you can have her; she's too fat for me!' (So is he!)

Do you want to end up a static? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PwYoKslh578&feature=fvwrel



Smart Tips For Your Personal And Business Success Today..........'I don't want her, you can have her;  she's too fat for me!'  (So is he!)

By Dr. Jeffrey Lant Author's program note. This article will have more impact if you listen first to Arthur Godfrey's "Too fat polka". Godfrey, one of the nation's first television talk masters (d. 1983), was assuredly not a nice guy. But he could both get to the point.and had at the ready the cutting line that leaves the victim breathless... and an audience laughing at the shear audacity of the words.  These talents were showcased in his very catchy "Too fat polka" with its signature line, "You can have her, I don't want her, she's too fat for me". An unlikely hit in 1947, it was written by Ross MacLean and Arthur Richardson. Listen to it a time or two before you read this article. You can easily find it in any search engine. Then get prepared to polka... while I roll out a barrel of fat.Have you looked at yourself lately, I mean really put yourself under a microscope and scrutinized what was before you? If you're seeing oleaginous rolls where you should be showcasing lean meat, you are part of the problem... and today must make the decision to become part of the solution.Let me share just three things with you about fat...1) It's disgusting. I don't care what your (terminally obese) friend Trudy says about your embonpoint.The extra flesh that you're packing is disgusting. You know it (even though you keep managing to delude yourself)... and every single person who looks at you knows it, too... and they don't delude themselves about what they're seeing, the way you do.... they just utter the devastating, involuntary, withering observation "Wow, that mamma is FAT!" That hurts when you know that mamma (or daddy) is... you.2) It's not a problem caused by the prevalence of food... it's a problem caused by you, the person shoveling the calories down your throat. Last time I checked, we each had the ability to close mouth and stop problem. If you're fat, if you're obese, you're the lad or lassie who did the damage, destroying yourself and your lithesome lines, one bite at a time.3) You are killing yourself. Fat... like sugar... like salt... is not a little problem; a trifling matter; something that gets a little slap on the wrist. Let's be candid with each other, or we're never going to start solving this endemic problem. Fat kills. And, as you shovel those calories into an already overburdened body, you are acting as your own torturer and executioner.Another study shows...Before I tell you the results of the latest, really alarming study on this matter, I have this to say about studies: "Enough already!" Since as long as I can remember (and for the record I'm the same age as Godfrey's hit tune) the nation's highest health authorities have been studying this problem to death. The studies all say the same thing: problem bad, problem worse than the last time we reported, more people slipping into obesity and all the problems that brings.  I feel like Jackie DeShannonin her 1965 hit "What the World Needs Now."  "Lord we don't need another mountain.There are mountains and hillsides enough to climb..."  We don't need another study either... We need -- action... and we need it yesterday. But since the study authors no doubt worked hard to produce the latest tome on this subject, I'll share the results with you.According to a report released July 7, 2010 by the Trust for America's Health and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, obesity rates climbed at least 90 percent in 17 states from 1995 until 2010.  Here are their chief findings:Item: nine of the 10 states with the highest obesity rates are in the South, led by Mississippi at 34.4 percent. That means that a little more than 1 in 3 Mississippians is obese. On this basis, the state should be designated a disaster area... and the National Guard positioned to get citizens out of their refrigerators as the#1 priority.Item: Alabama and West Virginia followed Mississippi in the "worst" states category.These three states also lead the nation in diabetes and high blood pressure. Michigan was listed 10th at 30.5 percent. Item: Medicare and Medicaid, the nation's public health plans, each spend more than20 percent of their budget to treat illnesses which are avoidable medical risks. Let's rewrite this in laymen's language Joe Six pack can understand:  you and the rest of Obese America are eating more, eating less wisely, less  nutritionally... as a result you're transcending fat, achieving obesity in record numbers at record speed, and then expecting the government to save you from the mess you've made of your body and your life.Friend: when you see the facts well and truly, you've got to wonder why the remainder of the citizens doesn't march on Washington and demand that those pandering congressmen stop subsidizing these self-destructive people, taking our money to correct their problem. Outrageous!More study facts./the survey's authors dubbed a swath of 644 counties in 15 mostly southern states the "diabetes belt," as reported in the Journal of Preventive Diseases. Colorado is the nation's slimmest state but still has a 19.8 percent obesity rate. Here's the rub:Colorado had the second-smallest rise since 1995 BUT that rate is still higher than Mississippi's was in 1995. This should concern the denizens of Vail, but probably won't.So, what's the definition of obesity anyway?Obesity is defined as having a body mass index about 30. Thus, a 6 foot-tall adult male weighing 221 pounds or more is considered obese, as is an adult woman standing5 feet 6 inches tall, weighing 186 pounds or more, according to the National Institutes of Health. Such people -- and here's the kicker -- are at a  higher risk for diabetes and hypertension, according to the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.False culprits...Concerned Americans have drawn up a rapidly expanding list of the culprits. These include bigger servings and food consumed on the  go. Such rapid consumption is bad for thebody... and constitutes the largest single change in the nation's food  habits and ingestion over the last 20 years. Lawmakers have chimed in with their best ideas: how about using taxes to influence eating habits? Maybe a tax on sugar-sweetened beverages (though this didn't make it into the 2010 health care law)?But these are mere palliatives, not solutions.  And every honest person engaged in the fight against obesity knows it. What they also know is that personal responsibility and ownership of the problem are the keys, not least because America's financial condition is such that we cannot ask the well people of the nation to subsidize those who chose rotten nutritional habits over common sense and the benefits deriving from getting and maintaining ideal weight. If you're not doing this, YOU are the culprit... and your first day of responsibility is today. Chances are you, who know so well the drawbacks of obesity so well, will yet do nothing to correct them. That's why, a year or two from now, we'll be back at you with another report, a more worrisome report... a report you'll ignore, just like you'll probably ignore this one. That's why "You can have him,  I don't want him,he's too fat for me.

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Howard Martell is the President of HOMEPROFITCOACH.COM and has worked online for well over 12 yrs part time while holding down a full time career of  over 18 and half years active duty US Navy. For the past year, with World Profit online, he has helped people create residual income using automation.
FOR MORE INFORMATION FEEL FREE TO COMMENT ON HIS BLOG or call him at 757-962-2482 serious inquires only!!!
Visit my site for the following free goodies: Since 1994, Sandi and co-founders Dr. Jeffrey Lant and George Kosch have built Worldprofit into the company known as the
Home Business Experts.  Republished with author’s permission by Howard Martell MCEC http://HomeProfitCoach.com

Of Sundays. What we have lost along the way.

Posted on June 26, 2011 by Howard Martell

By Dr. Jeffrey Lant
It is Sunday in Cambridge in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. The forecast is for inclement weather, buckets of rain, wide puddles to jump across, or, if you are of the distracted variety (I’m afraid I often qualify) to splash through unawares. Even with the intermittent rain, Cambridge will be on this day what Cambridge always is: a place of intellectual power, internecine academic battles often on topics of the least significance (hence their abrasiveness); a place, too, where everyone and his brother has either just written a book, is in the middle of writing a book, or is contemplating writing a book that will transform the world as we know it.
It is beautiful… it is exciting… it is lofty and drenched with youth… but there will be absolutely nothing of the traditional American Sunday here… or most anywhere else in America for that matter. That stalwart of our society is dead…. and today I lament its passing and what we have lost thereby. The great American Sunday, sacred to God, family and jackets and ties at an abundant repast, was one of them.
American values, Midwestern setting.
I grew up in Illinois, the most American of states, ultimate home of Abraham Lincoln, the epitome of American values. All states in the Glorious Republic are American, of course; Illinois is the great beating heart of this body politic.
I didn’t know, what child does, that I was, in the ‘forties and ‘fifties living through an inter-related series of cultural transformations which would, after being boiled and scorched in the cauldron of the ‘sixties, strip my family and all the other solidly middle class prairie families of too many of the verities they loved and cherished, believing them to be essential for a life of republican simplicities, moral certainties, and the resounding democratic principles on which the nation was formed. Our Sundays reflected these essential elements and sustained them.
I’d now like to share with you the contours of that Sunday, for it was good, decent, hallowed by tradition yet as fresh as the quips that flew around the highly polished dining table smelling of beeswax and elbow grease, the ample midday fare always abundant, never ostentatious.
Sunday began, for my mother at least, Saturday afternoon. It was then she did the work she hoped and was indeed confident would pass the critical scrutiny she knew her maternal peers would exact on her, her degree of proficiency in the crucial business of mothering, what manner of house keeper, wife, and mother she was, whatever observations made to circulate around the town as fast as, if not faster, than a Western Union telegram.
Fathers could afford to opt out of the crucial Saturday evening tasks for the morrow; children knew they would be called, and often more than once, to “try this on… you can’t wear that… polish those shoes at once and put them in a bag in the car ” to keep them pristine for the absolutely certain community review and commentary. My mother’s standing amidst other mothers and in the town generally depended on what she did and how she did it. And no one, but no one, was more adept at making every fine distinction and conclusion than the matrons of the town. Sure of themselves… their opinions were resounding, incontrovertible, and could never be challenged, waived, or overruled.
My mother, born and bred in Illinois, the stock of immigrants and pioneers, knew all this, none better. That’s why she was busily at work, including doing things even the most lynx-eyed matron could not see… examining linings… ensuring the car was clean inside (outside being my father’s province)…. examining, re-examining, now dubious, now, Mamie Eisenhower-like, concluding with a white glove review and then to her arrangements and personal presentation. No detail, not a single one, was ever overlooked; each according to the standards of her peers, just so.
“God shed his grace on thee.”
I am a WASP, a White Anglo-Saxon Protestant, my lineage boasting Scots, Germans, and waves of Englishmen. These days it is rather fashionable amidst the ill-informed and worse advised cognoscenti to pooh-pooh and even deride these nation-founding people as limited, prejudiced, arrogant, self-aggrandizing, and worse. If such things were said, even softly, about America’s other ethnic varieties, there would be mass outrage against such bigotry and discrimination. But such things are said of us with impunity, on the same principle as a “cat may look at a king.” My ethnic fellow-travelers sail on disregarding such remarks and distortions. I wish it to be understood that they are as unacceptable as any words of prejudice and bigotry.
The churches of my prairie town were of the usual variety; each had its own constituency and place in the social hierarchy. The Roman Catholics built schools and basilicas on extravagant Roman models. They were, so my grandmother would whisper, full of immigrants from Eastern Europe (the lesser half) and deluded by the incense and fripperies of Pius XII, a Protestant bug-a-bear. Just saying his name could produce a noticeable frisson.
The Protestant churches were headed, such was the residual pull of the nation we had freed ourselves from, by the Episcopal Church. Then a tie between what was still called the Congregational Church and the Methodist Church. Lesser, suspect denominations like Baptists were never discussed at all; a disapproving silence was sufficient. As for religions which sent zealots door-to-door, that was all they ever saw – the door.
My grandparents sternly approved of religion and its virtues, but rarely went to church themselves. In fact, off hand, I cannot remember seeing my grandfather at any other religious ceremony but the marriages of his 4 children and blessed relations. My parents, however, were different; for both, religion was important and as a result theological discussions, publications, arguments, visiting missionaries were commonplace. It was thought only seemly that I should, year after year, win a prize for memorizing the most Bible verses; something which has stood me in good stead to this day, when a Biblical quotation is apt.
My parents were sometimes parishioners in the Methodist Church, sometimes in the Congregational. My first memory of the latter is a stack of folding chairs suitable for the frequent church socials, all stamped “Congo.” I supposed, being geographically inclined, that meant Belgian Congo, an exotic destination of my imagination. In due course I came to be disappointed, learning it was merely an abbreviation for the church itself. Still, since many of my thousand best friends went to the “Congo,” I liked going there the best. It was simply another school, filled with familiar faces.
Arrival at church, “Congo” most of all, was an event. My parents and I pretty much knew everyone because we were related, friends, school mates, neighborhood buddies. This was the importance of Sunday, for here God, family, country all came together, scenic, vital, reassuring, important. It was the heart of the heart of America. We needed more of this in our challenged land. Instead, we have far less.
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About The Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc.,  providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Dr. Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books. Republished with author’s permission by Howard Martell http://HomeProfitCoach.com. Check out Traffic Blog Empire ->  http://www.HomeProfitCoach.com/?rd=nh4VYABW