Eating Our Way into Oblivion

 

The state of oblivion Tennessee Williams wrote about to describe how he became a living corpse while luxuriating inside a opulent hotel for several months is the same dangerous escape that lures American extreme behavior, whether it be our gluttony or self-starvation. We see this oblivion in certain types of “big eater” restaurants that are popular in this country. Either they are all-you-can-eat buffets or they are theme restaurants that serve obscenely huge portions.

There is such a buffet that is, ironically enough, juxtaposed next to the health club I used to train at. When I used to frequent the gym, I’d see the buffet’s patrons many of whom could not walk out of their cars to the buffet but had to limp or rely on canes, walkers, wheelchairs, and other ambulatory aids, for it seemed a high percentage of the buffet mongers were afflicted with obesity, diabetes, arthritis, gout, hypothalamic lesions, elephantiasis, varicose veins and fleshy tumors. Struggling and wheezing as they navigated across the vast parking lot that leads to their gluttonous sanctuary, they seemed to worship the very source of their disease.

 In front of the buffet is a sign of rules and conduct. One of the rules urges people to stand in the buffet line in an orderly fashion and to be patient because there is plenty of food for everyone. Another rule is that children are not to be left unattended and running freely around the buffet area. My favorite rule is that no hands, tongues, or other body parts are allowed to touch the food. Tongs and other utensils are to be used at all times. The rules give you an idea of the kind of people who eat there. These are people I want to avoid.

A mile away from the buffet is another popular restaurant aptly decorated like a Wild West saloon and while it is not “all you can eat” per se, it is just as committed to pandering to one’s gluttonous appetites. Its theme is the prospector’s search for the mother lode. The restaurant specializes in oversized portions of steak, prime rib, baby back pork ribs, spicy chicken wings, cheddar cheese mashed potatoes, deep-fried onion ring “flowers,” carrot cake, cheese cake and chocolate fudge cake. The cakes are famous for their moisture, the result of several cups of mayonnaise that are used in the batter, and for their huge size. Each “slice,” if it could be called that, is over a foot tall and leans to the side as if it were about to tip over, but through a miraculous breakthrough in chemical-additive engineering, the cake remains upright and intact. 

The portions are so big that the waiters have to practically use cranes to get the platters of food from the kitchen to the patrons’ tables. Big helpings of food require big tableware. The knives resemble ivory-handled scimitars, and they evoke a more primitive age when people dressed in animal skins and tore the blubber off of beached whales and woolly mammoths.

Like the buffet patrons, the Wild West eaters have eaten themselves into a condition of debilitation in which the simple act of breathing becomes a near impossibility.

Just what is the appeal of consuming slop until one is moribund and incapacitated? It seems a uniquely American experience. I’m reminded of a book by Laurence Shames, The Hunger for More, where he explains that the America’s frontier, fueled by the myth of Manifest Destiny, created an appetite for conquering vast lands. In the absence of virgin forestry, we, as Americans, still have the hunger to conquer and exploit, but now we’ve circumvented that rapacity into consumer excess and in the process, I would add, we’ve regressed into our troglodyte ancestors.

Overeating, then, is part of some kind of domination fantasy in which gluttony constitutes a crude competition against the rest of humanity.  Indeed, gluttony has a competitive component to it. Observing people piling food onto their plates inside a buffet, the narrator in Tobias Wolff’s short story, “Smorgasbord,” points out: “There was something competitive and desperate about them; they seemed to be eating their way toward a condition where they would never have to eat again. You would have thought they were refugees from a great hunger, that outside these walls the land was afflicted with drought and barrenness. I felt a kind of desperation myself; I felt like I was growing emptier with every bite I took.”

It is precisely this desperation, this loss of humanity, that scared Tennessee Williams out of his self-indulgence and made him escape the luxury hotel and move to Mexico where he embarked, once again, on his playwriting and where he began to rebuild himself.

Unfortunately, too often when Americans wake up to the self-destructiveness of their gluttony, they react with a form of equal destruction—fanatical training and dietary regiments, which result in the same desperation and loss of humanity.

 

Comments

[Ed S.]

From the reports I've seen recently, Australians are the Most Overweight, followed by Americans and British.

[jeffrey McMahon]

I wonder why Australians and Americans are so similar? At least that's what people tell me.

BTW, I'm enjoying Why We Hate Us by Dick Meyer. I plan on writing a good review for Amazon. Thanks for the recommendation.

Also, the GS750 is getting scorched for its cheapness (light plastic, battery compartment easy to break, etc.) on eHam reviews.

[Ed S.]

Glad you like Why We Hate US...I'm halfway through it. It's not light reading; gets depressing.
But I fear this book gives you material for many more tirades! You guys sound like bothers-in-arms.

[jeffrey McMahon]

Have you read the slim book On Bullshit? Excellent.

[Ed S.]

On reflection, I played my own small role in bringing about some of the awareness of "Culture Hate" in most of my books. My "1401 Things That Piss Me Off" series from 15+ years ago was just a large listing of complaints and gripes about daily irritants of modern life in the US. They apparently resonated with a lot of readers. So many people told me, "Yeah, I hate that, too!"
But those same little gripes have been expanded upon by academics like Meyers et al into serious works of cultural analysis and criticism. Man, I'm glad he picked Biden, but you know I hate that he did, too.

[jeffrey McMahon]

Biden has a good personality but I wonder what the McCain camp is digging up.

[gerald johnson]

they wont have too look too hard too dig up any biden dirt. he pretty much heaps it on himself. memo to biden... think before you speak.

[gerald johnson]

ed, jeff, who is the author? (why we hate us) id like to read it.

[gerald johnson]

oops nevermind, i see.

[gerald johnson]

ed, what other works besides 1401 things? id like to perhaps take read.

[jeffrey McMahon]

I like Biden but his mouth can get him into trouble.

I guess you saw the author's name of Why We Hate Us-Dick Meyer.

I'm 40 pages in and it's a must-read in my opinion. I'll review it for my blog and Amazon soon.

[Ed S.]

Gerald,
Besides 3 "Peeve" books and one called "701 things that P*ss me off about work", there are:
-Getting Old Sucks
-I Wish I Didn't
-Cats & the People They Own
-Dogs & the People They Own
-The Optimist's/Pessimist's Guide to the Millennium
-What I Hate About Christmas
...enjoy

[gerald johnson]

ed,, just ordered "getting old sucks" off of amazon. im a mere pup of 48 but ive never felt older than i have in the last 6 mos.! i find myself suddenly not being able to adapt to modern paradigm.

[gerald johnson]

jeff, im gonna check out "why we hate us" as well as ed's book, "getting old sucks"

[Carrie]

Why We Hate Us explains our country's depression, anger, and loneliness better than any book I've read.