THE FAT CAT

In the book “Stuff Happens – And Then You Fix It” there’s a story about a man in a friendly conversation who was going on and on and on talking only about himself. Realizing this, he suddenly stops. “Golly,” he says. “There I go. Everything is about ME, ME, ME. Why don’t we change the subject and talk about YOU for a change? (short pause) What do YOU think of ME?”

I feel that way sometimes when I read my own material. It is always about me. So I am going to change the subject, at least for this blog, and talk about something else. Stay with me. After I tell you my idea, I will go back to talking about me, me, and me.

In today’s LA Times (Sunday July 23, 2006) there was an article with graphics showing how obesity is not only one of the most unhealthy trends in America, obesity is causing major product adjustments in order to accommodate this “growing” trend. Notice I do not use the word “fat.” “Fat” is wrong. Obese (with a fat looking “O”) is PC (Politically Correct).

It seems that because of these “Os” a whole new industry is being created out there in consumer land. According to the article, children’s car seats aren’t big enough anymore. A new “Husky” seat is being introduced. Oversize chairs (without arms) are now on the market. And, if that isn’t enough, coffins aren’t big enough anymore. That’s right; COFFINS ARE NOT BIG ENOUGH ANYMORE! New models are being introduced that are not only 4 inches wider; THEY ARE STEEL REINFORCED! - Solid proof that the burial industry is thinking way down deep. And, why not? They have always been the last people to let you down (Hello! The last people to let you down?).

Recently I have been pondering this huge American dilemma with the hope of coming up with a solution. If one can do this, there has to be a lot of money in it. When I was growing up in Toledo a “fat cat” was a person with a lot of money. Well, I have an idea that will make me a “fat cat” while everyone else becomes a “lean machine.”

The idea hit me this morning while I was looking through the cupboard for my cereal box. Way in the back I noticed four unopened boxes. When I pulled them out, I discovered they were the Girl Scout cookies I had ordered months ago. Thin Mint, Café Cookie, Lemon Coolers, and DoSiDos, a crisp and crunchy oatmeal cookie with creamy peanut butter filling. Yum! Yum!

I immediately conjured up those three smiling little girls sitting together at a little table in front of the local supermarket taking cookie orders. The goal? Raising needed funds for their local Scout troupe. It occurred to me, with all the one-size-fits-all problems in America, we shouldn’t be turning 10-year-old girls into street corner sugar dealers.

However, Girl Scout Cookie sales is such a tradition, such a warm and wonderful part of Americana, we can’t stop it without a viable, workable, philanthropic money making enterprise to take its place.

And that is what I did friends. I, me, me, and me, came up with the most brilliant idea of all time.

In the movie “The Graduate,” the character played by Dustin Hoffman was told by his father’s friend, “I got a tip for your future. One word. ‘Plastic!’” What a great tip. At the time, plastic WAS the future. Everyone who took this person’s advice got insanely rich.

So listen closely. Here is my tip for all of you. Three words:

“Girl Scout Salads.”

Is that brilliant or what?

GIRL SCOUT SALADS!

Imagine this. Those three little Girl Scouts sitting at that same little table in front of that same supermarket. Their Mothers all standing behind them giving motherly advice. Instead of boxes filled with cookies, they have various types of packaged lettuce along with salad dressings of all kinds. All of this could even be packaged to look like cookies. Maybe they could have a lite salad dressing that tasted like cookies. Small detail. I’m sure that Paul Newman could come up with something.

I even have a slogan: “Lettuce all lose a little weight. Buy Girl Scout Salads”

I don’t know about you, but I’m going to get right on it. Prediction? Six months from now, I am going to be one “Fat Cat.”

But, I digress.

Stay tuned.