Sunday’s Dilettante. Please read it so I have justification for spending my Sunday mornings writing this crap.
I always have insomnia on Sunday nights. The little monkeys start running around my brain and I go over all the things that I need to accomplish in the coming week – both job-related and personal. Last night, rather than staring at the ceiling in bed, I watched TV in the living room. I don’t usually watch TV before bed because it often impacts my dreams. Maybe I should be more choosy about my viewing choices and watch things that I wouldn’t mind dreaming about… Eh, I read or write instead.
Not last night. The Learning Channel was airing a show about fat people. No, not fat people. Morbidly obese people. It was grotesquely fascinating. Mostly because I couldn’t figure out how they were making it. One guy weighs 700 pounds and lives in NYC. His family members make a lot of his food for him because they claim that if they didn’t, he’d order for delivery. I wondered how he could do that, since he’s been bedridden for 10 years. Then I saw the bucket. He had a little system. He’d lower the bucket, with money in it, from his bedroom window four or five floors down to street. The delivery person would take the money and place the food in the bucket. He’d haul the load back into his room.
This guy spends $500 A DAY on food. That’s roughly $15,000 a month and $180,000 per year. Though he has family members who are also living with him (obviously, since someone has to change his diaper) and probably pay some or all of his rent, how in the hell can a bedridden person who seemingly does not have any sort of income afford a drug, I mean food, habit like that?
You have to wonder at the emotional/psychological problems that would lead a person to eat themselves into non-relevance. And why does his family cook so much food for him? They showed his dad making his lunch, and he put literally HALF A STICK of butter in the fat guy’s rice. Now come on, you’re not exactly helping the situation, Pops. Give that guy some steamed broccoli and lean meat. If he wants to eat something unhealthy, he can drag his ass out of the bed to do so. And if you don’t have bad foods in the house, he’d have to lose enough weight to get down the stairs and walk to the store. He’d have to get his shit together somewhat, and maybe when he reached that point he wouldn’t want to be so fat.
Or not. Maybe he can make enough of a living whoring himself out for documentaries to get people to bring the stuff to his house for him, whether his family is there or not. Eh.