Gluttony

I remember as a kid sneaking into Mass late and practically crawling to one of the back pews, sure that I would be seen and tattled on. The house was packed. I darted for what seemed to be an empty spot and ran smack into a wall of orange floral about five feet wide. I froze. The wall twitched, and out of it a voice announced, “There’s a spot right here, honey.”

Everyone nearby turned to stare. I squeezed my way past huge knees straining against stockings and jumped into the little empty spot. A wisp of cigar smoke hit me just as something rammed into my shoulder like a thrown baseball. Looking up, I saw a man twice the size of my grandpa. He made no response as I tried to wriggle away from his jabbing elbow. He was staring into space, pretending to listen to the priest, his mind on betting the horses.

I was wedged in like a pickle in a sandwich and there was nothing I could do about it.

Years later, I attended a fundamentalist Christian service with a high school friend and was amazed by two things: the sea of obesity and the downpour of cheap cologne.

What was it about attending church that made people fat? And what was up with the cologne? Did they think it would wash away their sins?

Scientists think they may have an answer.

Well actually, the scientists at Minot State University in North Dakota found no significant correlation between religiosity and obesity, when controlled for things like demographics.

Except for one possible finding. Christian denominations whose members have high birth rates just might be heavier than the rest of us.

Is that code for “Catholic”?

I think back to my Italian Catholic grandparents who were always portly in a bright-eyed, comforting sort of way. After I was grown, I heard my grandmother’s lurid tales of trying to survive The Great Depression while being Catholic newlyweds. Using birth control would send you straight to hell. Having more kids would send you to skid row.

What to do? Eat.

Food remained at the center of their lives. You can say it’s Old Country culture, but I say it’s Catholic. They only had three kids. I know that correlates with the pies in the freezer.