I can recall the month of October 2014 as being a particularly hysteric one. The ebola outbreak in West Africa was worsening and with modern travel, made its way (on a very small scale) to American shores.
There were five people who tested positive for the disease on American soil, only one of whom perished from it. But with ebola dominating the evening news, sales of rubber gloves and surgical masks spiking, and anyone with the slightest cough being treated like a leper, you'd think it was the country's most threatening epidemic.
"Five positive diagnoses, one death," I thought to myself. And all this hubbub.
What if there really were an deadly epidemic in America, one that affected 35% of the adult population and 20% of minors? How would we react to that?
We wouldn't, and we haven't. At least not proactively enough. That epidemic does exist, and it's called obesity.
I'm not going to get into the economic, cultural or psychological effects of our society's gradual transition to an obese one, nor am I going to delve into the obvious causes we've all heard over and over (larger portion sizes, an increasingly sedentary lifestyle, higher processed sugar and fat content in food, etc.).
Instead, I want to explore some of the less thought-about, perhaps more outlandish causes for our nation's onset of obesity in the last few decades. Indulge me as I, dare I say it, muse.
The demise of dance
If you knew me in my formative years, you know that I think the way young people "dance" these days is completely ridiculous. Grinding crotches and gyrating hips is NOT dancing. I like to call what youngsters do in the clubs these days "Vertical, clothed sex."
Vertical, clothed sex is completely effortless. Since the 1930s, the days of swing dancing, jitterbugging, and Lindy-Hopping, dancing has becoming increasingly less coordinated and well, lazy. I'm not talking about what you see at Justin Timberlake or Chris Brown (they're incredible) concerts, but rather what you'd see at any given club on any given night.
Let's review some samples, shall we?
Dancing in the 1930s: http://youtu.be/-avipfNKqxQ?t=1m52s
Dancing today: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aw5z1mJ_1qM
Need I say more?
1930s dancing: A full-on cardio workout. Today's dancing: You don't have to move your feet. Not even once.
The disappearance of the yard + introduction of the gardner
The suburbs were once a place to settle for the working man of the big city, a place where he could retreat and have his own house, a car, a couple of kids, a dog and an open space for them to all go outside and be active. Land parcels were big, houses were modest, and families often prided themselves on their yards.
In the last few decades, families have traded in the value of having a yard for a bigger house. Add-ons equal more rooms and livable square footage, which translate directly into dollars. Having grown up in Arcadia, California has given me a unique advantage to seeing this process grossly accelerate in the last 25 years.
My grandma lived on a street with modest two-bedroom, single story ranch homes on half acre lots. One by one, my grandma's neighbors have all died or moved away, and one by one, enormous mini mansions have taken their spots and swallowed their yards, the most recent selling for $5.5 M. 8,113 square feet. Complete with a wok room. A room... dedicated solely to a wok.
Yards provide a place for kids to play and a place for adults to upkeep. A lot of parents these days have bad cases of Mean World Syndrome, and won't let their kids walk to the park or school yard alone anymore; take away the yard too, and they've got nowhere to go be active. What do they do instead? Stay inside and watch TV. Stay inside and play on the computer. Stay inside and play video games. Stay inside and become obese.
And for adults, the yard used to provide great exercise. Ever tried to operate one of those old push mowers? It's not easy! Weeding, landscaping, raking leaves... these are all forms of simple exercise (not thought of as such) that burned calories and got adults moving. And yes, a lot of people do still have yards. But how many of them are tended to by the people who own them? The gardening industry has erupted in the last few decades, making it affordable for even middle class families to forsake yard work. But at what cost to your health?
The disappearance of the yard in combination with the explosion in gardening services has eliminated this hidden activity that provided good exercise for anyone dedicated to keep their yard looking nice.
The emergence of corporate America
With the Industrial Revolution, advent of the assembly line, and building of the nation's infrastructure came the fall of small-town America. And with the fall of small-town America came the extinction of walking.
From the first American settlers until the turn of the 20th century (big, concentrated cities excluded, where walking is still the main mode of transportation), every town had a center, and that center included stores, a school, a church, a tavern, and a smattering of other commercial enterprises. Each was unique to its own town. Before the introduction of cars, trains, and the infrastructure on which to operate them, people walked to accomplish whatever daily tasks they needed.
As anyone still living in a big city without a car can tell you, walking miles every day gets you fit. Once the infrastructure was built, major corporations were established and things got more and more spread out. Mega stores like Sears Roebuck and later WalMart put Mom and Pop out of business. People couldn't depend on their feet to get what they needed anymore. Cars, buses and trains replaced the need to walk, even short distances, eliminating another form of common yet hidden exercise in which we were once forced to engage.
