Malingering’s World

The mind-body connection is an amazingly powerful force as evidenced by these recent findings about obesity. To paraphrase the article: surround yourself by people who are getting fatter, and you will also become fatter. Surround yourself by people who are getting skinnier, and you will get skinnier as well. Distance is not a factor, as friends who gain weight 2000 miles apart still influence each other (fat is carried over the internet!), but interestingly enough, friends and family of the opposite sex have no effect on weight loss or gain (I imagine it’s hard for a woman to relate to one’s hairy fat uncle Fred in Kansas but that skinny bitch Carla in Miami is another story). Obesity is becoming a transmittable disease from which no condom will save you.

There is no better arena to exemplify this phenomenon than my beloved Dodger Stadium, which despite being in Los Angeles, where we are all exceptionally health conscious and only eat avocados and sprouts (right?), only serves grease laden mystery meat and fries drenched in oil.

There is certainly a crowd mentality going on here: hey, if that guy eats 4 Dodger Dogs and a bucket of nachos (who cares if he can fit in his seat), no reason I shouldn’t. I fully intend on sitting in the all-you-can-eat pavilion one day to count the number of people who vomit.

There is the “Sub Zone” which is Dodger Stadium’s pathetic attempt at health food. They serve 4 spectacular items: an italian sub, a steak sub, a turkey sub, and a chicken caesar salad. The “subs” certainly live up to their name (as in suboptimal) as they are prepared and then shoved into a refrigerator so the meat, vegetables and bread fuses into one cold lump of semi-edible wilted stale bread and nitrite laden greenish tinted cold cuts which, even after 3 innings of thawing, still barely passes as food.

Then there is the chicken caesar salad. Since I have been on a low-carb, no bread sort of kick, this is the only viable food option at Dodger Stadium for a woman trying to Enter the Zone. Unfortunately, there is one logistical detail which makes even this option rather ridiculous. The salad is composed of a grilled chicken breast atop romaine lettuce and grated cheese with a few croutons and a packet of caesar dressing. Hard to screw up, you would think. The chicken breast is whole. It is not cut, chopped, shredded, or divided into bite size morsels in any way. This used to be slightly difficult, but it was sold with a plastic knife and with some effort the chicken could be cut up and eaten. Last month, they stopped giving out the plastic knives. In fact they made the plastic knives completely unavailable (come on, even TSA allows them now!) so the chicken can only be eaten hot dog on a stick style, which isn’t really great for salad eating. Take it from me.

Which leaves us with the following food options: Dodger Dogs, Philly cheesesteaks, Panda Express, Camachos, Carl’s Jr., Gordon Biersch fries and brats, salted pretzels, corn dogs (new item for 2007!), nachos, popcorn and chocolate malts.

Then you have to wonder how people can continue to eat this shit when they are struggling just to fit into the seat. My assumption would be that after 2-3 innings of being hugely uncomfortable and wedged between those metal arm rests you wouldn’t really feel like shoveling down another plate of nachos. Of course I am wrong. Some people say this is because I hate fat people. Huh?

I will say that having been on this diet for two weeks now, the only foods that are tempting me to cheat are Dodger Dogs, root bear floats and garlic fries with nacho cheese. I’m starting to think Dodger Stadium is in cahoots with the pharmaceutical companies that make hypertension and hyperlipidemia drugs because there is no way a person could come here on a regular basis and avoid eating pure crap. Add this to the list of conspiracies when you put on your tin foil cap, I don’t want it to get left behind things like government electromagnetic radiation or homeland security spies.

Now that I have visited 10 ballparks, I am much more disappointed in the food selections at Dodger Stadium. First off, we don’t offer vermin like Angel Stadium. Secondly, there are about 5 different food choices, and if you’ve been to as many home games as I have this season (25) you are absolutely sick of this. San Francisco, as much as I hate them, has a crab sandwich made with real crab. And it is amazing. They also have a ton of other options besides your standard hot dog and peanuts. Dodger Stadium has by far the most pathetic food selection of the stadiums I’ve visited. Why? It’s not like we don’t eat. A lot.

For some, the solution to this problem is to bring one’s own food. This is what I do. Yes, I am probably one of the only people there eating apples and cottage cheese between innings, but you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. On the other hand, some people just bring more crap food, I guess because it’s cheaper and you get more of it if you bring it yourself.

What to do? I just know I will be wearing protective gear to the next Dodger game so I don’t catch the non-infectious obesity condition which seems to be spreading rapidly via hot dogs and Cracker Jacks. The LA Times article has given me a lot to think about over my bowl of cottage cheese and nuts. I’ll let you know when I have the answer.

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