Charita Goshay: Too fat to play Santa? You know you’ve overdone it
Once again, the holidays are upon us — those wondrous, magical moments when anything is possible. That special time of year when we pray most for peace on Earth and goodwill toward men.
Those halcyon days of snowy mornings and star-filled nights when children slumber sweetly, as visions of sugarplums dance in their heads ...
And their parents eat them.
We Americans never have needed the holidays as an excuse for overindulgence, but they do offer us a handy-dandy excuse to dive into a bottomless pit of chocolate-covered gluttony.
Once upon a time, holidays were awash in piety. The Puritans mandated fasting during holy days as a way of tamping down temptation. There were no ego-crushing Lexus commercials, The-Wisemen-Go-to-Vegas light displays or Black Friday riots.
Puritan kids didn’t have Christmas “wish lists” apart from wishing to live through the winter. In fact, the early Puritans forbade Christmas, for fear it would become a hedonistic display devoid of all religious meaning.
While holidays, thankfully, have become something to be enjoyed rather than endured, let’s admit it, we tend to overdo it. For instance, if:
- You step on a digital scale, and it reads “Get off.”
- You’ve begun to sweat butter.
- You climb into your car and a tire pops.
- A Little Debbie truck is missing, and you’re the prime suspect.
- Your new holiday sweater comes with a built-in defibrillator.
- The Cleveland Cavaliers are trying to recruit you to be a body double for “Shaq-a-Claus;” however, your Santa pants no longer fit.
- Your cholesterol numbers look like a lottery pick.
- The local all-you-can-eat Christmas buffet has posted your mug on a wall. And it’s not because you’re a celebrity.
Tiger by the tale
Speaking of celebrity, the cast of thousands in the Tiger Woods scandal merely is the latest example of the growing number of young women who are courting fame by way of affairs with married celebrities.
Drawn like moths to the camera’s flash, they appear with revelations in hand under the guise of “setting the record straight.”
It has become such a sordid parade that you’d scrub in bleach if you thought it would help.
I’m not suggesting we revert to the days when women were branded with a scarlet letter — after all, none of us walks on water — but what ever happened to shame?
The kind of self-respect that once made engaging in such behavior unthinkable has been eclipsed by a lust for money and fame, enabled in some cases by family and friends.
Las Vegas lingerie model Jamie Jungers told NBC’s “Dateline” that when she informed her mother about her affair with Woods, her mother reportedly replied, “If he is really interested in you, he’ll show it.”
Wouldn’t a better end to that sentence be “And my mom said, ‘Have you lost your mind?!’ ”
It has become clear that the criteria for celebrity are now such that talent or accomplishments are no longer a prerequisite. Debasement will do.
Even Woods, who pimped his own celebrity for a walk on the wild side, has enough sense to be embarrassed — at least by getting caught.
Charita Goshay writes for The Repository in Canton, Ohio. Contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.