The Lobster Brigade

NS April 29th, 2005

When it comes to matters of health and fitness, Britain is in a strange little league of its own. Maybe this is just the crowd I hang with, but from what I know, the British are at least marginally more health-conscious when it comes to food and exercise than the vast majority of Americans. The virtues of the tried and true “Meat and Two Veg” rule are extolled throughout the land and gluttony is not something to be proud of. A pie-eating contest is unheard of in the UK and prizes are not awarded to people who can consume 5 large pizzas or a burrito as big as their head in one sitting. Abject slobbery like this would be treated with disgust, not amusement. Admitting to eating an entire box of cookies in one go is not funny or understandable, it’s disturbing. Fitness is talked about far more often here and not only in terms of dieting, but in a general sense. People often ask others what they do to stay fit — it is assumed that you at least go on vigorous walks or play squash every once in a while, something that you do for exercise. In many parts of the US, exercise is opening a jar of fudge sauce and then walking outside to get the mail.

The differences aren’t always so obvious though, often they are subtle yet profound. Case in point: a couple weeks ago, my hubby and I were walking down the street and passed our favourite Chinese restaurant. In the window was a sign that read “Lunch Buffet — Eat As Much As You Like.” Suddenly it hit me. Eureka! The difference between America and Britain isn’t that one is inherently more or less healthy than the other, it’s the MENTALITY towards food. In America, that sign would’ve read “Eat As Much As You CAN.” It’s like us Yanks take that sign in the window as a challenge and feel it is our personal mission to prove that place wrong and make them rue the day they ever thought they could make a profit off of our hunger. Ooh, we’ll show them! Whereas a Brit, upon seeing that sign, would nudge his companion and exclaim “Well I say, that’s a bloody good deal. Let’s go in and split some crispy shredded duck, ol’ chap.”

However, the British seem to be less health conscious about certain things, namely drinking, smoking and sunbathing. Don’t get me wrong, as a fun-loving 20-something, I enjoy the fact that I can have a beer or glass of wine with my lunch, even when out with my boss, without being fired immediately and shipped to the Betty Ford Clinic (or Priory for you UK lushes). However, drinking alcohol here is not just something that college kids do in excess. Grannies of 70 are getting plastered in their local, parents out with their children think nothing of having a few while the kids play, and businessmen out for a Friday lunch get so drunk that they end up spanking their own asses while singing fight songs, ties and blazers akimbo. Now, to be fair, this is London I’m talking about, where one normally does not have to drive a car afterwards and can rely on public transport to get home, but still, it’s not the sort of thing that is widely done in the US and would certainly attract lots of stares and whispers if not the bouncer and an AA leaflet.

Smoking, though declining rapidly in social acceptability, is still allowed in nearly all restaurants and bars and even in train stations and airports. I’ll never forget my amazement when I landed at Heathrow for the first time and saw people puffing away in the terminal. Holy smokes! The fact that there are even smoking carriages on some trains amazes me, though I don’t know how anyone, even smokers, can stand sitting in them — it’s like being transported at 100 mph in a giant ashtray. Fun!

The most British vice of them all though, is sunbathing. Sunbeds, silver reflectors, baby oil, SPF 4 (as in ‘what is it 4?’ it doesn’t protect against anything), grade 2 burns, peeling skin — it’s all part of a typical holiday to whichever Spanish or Greek island is most popular that year. It’s like Britain is stuck in a time warp circa 1977 when no one knew about skin cancer and looking like a brown leather handbag was trendy. Has the news not made it over here yet? What’s the deal? You know what it is — the weather. They use it as an excuse to fry themselves on holiday because going away for a week or two and coming back anything less than 10 shades darker than when you left is a heinous, hideous crime for which you will be made fun of for days and weeks to come. The funny thing is though, WHITE BRITS DON’T TAN WELL!! They exist in various shades of fleshy peach and angry red, interspersed with uneven patches of brown and white, peeling skin. Mmm, attractive. As an Expat, a fun game to play while on vacation is Spot The Brit. Look for any bright red and dehydrated young man on the beach and 9 times out of 10 he will be sitting on an Eng-er-lund beach towel, smoking fags and drinking lager — one of the esteemed Lobster Brigade.

It just goes to show that when it comes to health and fitness, you can’t have it all. Even lazy Americans know to put sunscreen on if the pie-eating contest is outside…

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