Food for thought
I came across an article last night.
Fats don't make you fat.
Normally I don't bother reading anything about diets or food fads but for some reason I read this one. It was interesting to say the least.
I am no expert in nutrition and prefer to rely on logic and experience when it comes to a debate. They can scream that carrots will make my toes fall off but I won't believe 'em no matter how much they have spent of their "research". Experience tells me that my toes are safe so I just ignore the so called "experts".
So what are my memories of a fatty diet as a kid? Well, I didn't take any interest in fat levels and no one else did either. I do remember we always had streaky [as distinct from lean] rashers. I remember my fondness for roast pork with loads of crackling, which remains to this day. I remember "dripping toast" which was toast covered in the fat from roast meat. I remember the fights in the household to grab the cream off the top of the milk bottle to pour over porridge. I remember there was always a block of lard in the larder either for baking or for frying in. So all in all, I seem to have eaten quite a lot of stuff that would be a mortal sin these days.
My diet then was pretty much the norm. I would imagine it was the same in every household. But one thing I can tell you – none of my friends or acquaintances was fat. We were just normal kids and the word obesity was rarely heard. There was talk all right about Tuberculosis and Polio, but people rarely mentioned Cancer or Obesity.
I have continued ever since. I still much prefer fried sausages and rashers to grilled ones. I do use back rashers but only because Herself doesn't like the streaky ones. I still enjoy a good fatty roast pork. Unfortunately lard and the cream at the top of the bottle seem to have been consigned to history. I will grant that I am spreading a little – my 32" waste has ballooned to a 34" over the years but at over six foot, I think that's reasonable?
So taking into account evidence and logic, I would tend to believe that article. It rings true that the whole "fat" thing is just a fad, or in this case a social experiment. It also rings true that the experiment "is full of skullduggery, threats, suppression of evidence, men with monster egos and bad outcomes", which seems to be the standard procedure in "research" these days?
In fact I can readily think of another branch of so called public health that is "full of skullduggery, threats, suppression of evidence, men with monster egos and bad outcomes"!
Makes you think?
Food for thought?
The fat around the fried steak gave it its flavour, we all used to know that. The expression back then as I remember it was, "Meat and two veg," the many spuds being taken for granted. Chips were deep fried in lard in a chip pot on the oven and had to be watched in case the house burned down. The Sunday roast was the weekly family meal, usually roast beef, lamb or pork, hanging with tasty fat. The difference between then and now of course was that you were dispatched outside afterwards with the message, "See you at teatime, (and not before). You exercised off your meals those days.
And once we were dispatched outside our "play area" would be anywhere within at east a mile's radius of home. A journey meant walking or cycling. A long journey might involve a bus, but even then it was a stiff walk to the bus stop. How the hell did we manage to survive without mobile phones and computer games?
Mobile phones and computer gamaes? Ha! As the saying goes, "If we didn't have an erection on Christmas morning we had nothing to play with all day!
🙂
And here I have to inject insulin in order to keep my type 1 adult diabetes under control. Probably explains why my 6 foot tall skinny self has finally reached 160 pounds from my usual 145? Good thing I eat that fatty bacon for breakfast every morning?
Nature is always going to get us one way or another, so we may as well enjoy ourselves while we can!
Same as that with the childhood diet, GD. And I've never taken any notice of the 'experts', I've always eaten what I enjoy and just used commonsense. And like you, my waistline has crept up over the last decade from 30" to 32" (I'm 5'10").
In fact I can readily think of another branch of so called public health that is "full of skullduggery, threats, suppression of evidence, men with monster egos and bad outcomes"!
Oh yes! It seems to be what 'Public Health' do these days. They long ago lost sight of their remit.
Grandad,
I can't remember where I first found this piece but it was a long time ago. I hope it brings back happy memories.
Childhood Dayz.
Take a break from the grind and remember when… Close your eyes and go back in time.
Before the Internet or the Apple Mac. Before semi-automatics, joy riders and crack. Before SEGA or Super Nintendo.
Way back…
I'm talking about Hide and Seek in the park. The corner shop. Hopscotch. Butterscotch. Skipping. Handstands. Football with an old can. Fingerbobs. Beano, Twinkle. Roly Poly. Hula Hoops, jumping the stream, building dams. The smell of the sun and fresh cut grass. Bazooka Joe bubble gum. An ice cream cone on a warm summer night from the van that played a tune: Chocolate or vanilla or strawberry or maybe Neapolitan or perhaps a screwball.
Wait!!
Watching Saturday morning cartoons; short commercials, The Double Decker's, Road Runner, He-Man, Tiswas or Swapshop? and Why Don't you – or staying up late for Star Trek.
When around the corner seemed far away and going into town seemed like really going somewhere.
Earwigs, wasps and bee stings. Sticky fingers. Cops and Robbers, Cowboys and Indians and Zorro. Climbing trees. Getting a foot of snow was a dream come true. Building igloos out of snow banks. Walking to school, no matter what the weather. Running till you were out of breath. Laughing so hard that your stomach hurt. Jumping on the bed. Pillow fights. Spinning around, getting dizzy and falling down was cause for giggles. Being tired from playing… remember that?
The worst embarrassment was being picked last for a team. Water balloons were the ultimate weapon. Football cards in the spokes transformed any bike into a motorcycle. Choppers and Grifters
I'm not finished just yet. Eating raw jelly. Orange squash ice pops.
Remember when…
There were two types of trainers – girls and boys, and Dunlop Green Flash – and the only time you wore them at school was for P.E. You knew everyone in your street – and so did your parents. It wasn't odd to have two or three "best" friends. You didn't sleep a wink on Christmas Eve.
When nobody owned a purebred dog. When 25p was decent pocket money. When you'd reach into a muddy gutter for a penny. When nearly everyone's mum was at home when the kids got there. When it was considered a great privilege to be taken out to dinner at a real restaurant with your parents. When any parent could discipline any kid, or feed him or use him to carry groceries and nobody, not even the kid, thought a thing of it. When being sent to the Headmaster's office was nothing compared to the fate that awaited a misbehaving student at home. Basically, we were in fear for our lives but it wasn't because of drive-by shootings, drugs or gangs. Our parents and grandparents were a much bigger threat! And some of us are still afraid of them! Didn't that feel good?
Just to go back and say, yeah, I remember that!
Remember when…
Decisions were made by going " Ip Dip Dog Ship." (yeah I know) "Race issue" meant arguing about who ran the fastest. Money issues were handled by whoever was the banker in "Monopoly". The worst thing you could catch from the opposite sex was germs. And the worst thing in your day was having to sit next to one.
It was unbelievable that British Bulldog wasn't an Olympic event. Having a weapon in school meant being caught with a catapult.
Nobody was prettier than Mum. Scrapes and bruises were kissed and made better. Taking drugs meant orange-flavoured chewable aspirin. Ice cream was considered a basic food group.
Older siblings were the worst tormentors, but also the fiercest protectors.
If you can remember most or all of these, then you have lived.
I have lived! I'm trying to work out what era that belongs to. 25p pocket money? In my day it was 6d or even a shilling. Ten shillings was an absolute fortune! Saturday morning cartoons came much later too – televisions were a rarity and we certainly didn't have one. There weren't any ice-cream vans either, though I remember when they started with their Greensleeves jangling out of the estate behind us. The rest all rings very true though. Happy days!
I suppose in fifty years time, kids will be harping back to the good old days, remembering the various games they played on the mobile phones?
Grandad,
You think it’s sort of rolling memories from the authors younger dayz through to his own kids dayz?
Six old pennies for pocket money is the same as my first ‘wage’. Wage? Sure; don’t forget we had to do some household related ‘work’ for all that money. Money for nothing? You’re kidding! Which reminded me of this Ellen DeGeneres quote:
"I was coming home from kindergarten–well, they told me it was kindergarten. I found out later I'd been working in a factory for ten years. It's good for a kid to know how to make gloves."
Doing the washing-up, putting out the bins, mowing the lawn, washing the car – all part of the earning process. The huge bonus was Christmas – my God Mother always sent me a postal order for 2/6. It was a fortune.
When I was about fourteen my widowed Mother read an article about how bad television was for the teenage mind. As a result, a small diary was put on top of the set and we were allowed one half-hour programme a night, which had to be written in with name, time and duration. Besides that, news or current affairs could be watched at any time without reference to the diary. The strange thing about it in the modern era is that apart from a day or two of griping, my kid sister andI obeyed the new rule to the letter of the law for years. The regime ran Monday to Friday and naturally, those were the nights we were not allowed out after teatime, (ever). The result was that if you were not watching your chosen half-hour on any night, you were in your bedroom studying.
Years later I suggested something similar with my own two kids, only to be shot down by herself. The age of the screen had truly arrived by then.
We weren't allowed television [and by that I mean we didn't have one] until I left school as the Ma said it would have been a distraction. It meant I had to study in a friend's house [where, of course, they had a set]. In the end she relented and bought one just so she could see me occasionally.
I tell you what – a 32" waste – you must have been backed up for days before giving birth to a turd that size!!
Or did you mean "waist"?
Hah! Fucking spell checker!