The media are certainly huffing and puffing about this one. A recent study says we Canadians are fatter and less fit than we were in 1981.

Two-thirds of Canadians have abdominal obesity. About three decades ago, the proportion was more like one quarter.

It’s a crisis, say scientists. It’s astonishing, say doctors. It’s a disgrace, says the smug skinny woman who serves me high-fat coffee and doughnuts each morning.

Apparently, all this flabby bulk is a bad thing, particularly when it’s combined with an overall lack of strength and general sloth. As usual, news organizations, their reporters and the health industry are failing to see the positive side of a topical situation.

This issue also gives the TV networks a chance to run photos of chubby people walking busy Canadian streets, with their heads cropped off to preserve anonymity. I would like to alert the media that fat people have heads, too. And you always seem to get photos of us walking, so we’re not as lazy as you suggest.

Obviously, there’s an imbalance I need to correct on behalf of the real reporters I still consider my brethren, even though they no longer return my calls. We’ll put several of you skinny people on that side of the scale – there you go, little fellas – and I’ll stand on this side.

Ta da. Balanced.

Now, for the details.

Isn’t it just a little embarrassing that Canada does not have a sumo wrestling team? The only country in the world, in fact, with professional sumo wrestling is Japan. We have cities and towns twinned with Japanese cities and towns. Yet they’re the ones with sumo wrestling.

I could just scream, this aggravates me so much. It’s time the situation changed, Canada.

Some folks are suggesting that sumo wrestling will even become an Olympic sport. We have the fat people. All we need is organized events on a grand scale. So let’s lift sumo wrestling off the ground and hold it high.

Perhaps that’s not the best metaphor, but I think you get the picture.

The fat lifestyle is about more than sumo wrestling and Olympic glory, however. Yes indeed. It’s about purple loosestrife. Stay with me, here, folks.

Did you know that the noxious weed purple loosestrife arrived in Canada as seeds in European ships? These ships weren’t carrying the seeds on purpose – the seeds simply stowed away in the sand ballast and planted themselves on the shores of the new world.

Large people, I would like to propose, make better ballast than sand or even lead, being as they rarely carry purple loosestrife seeds on their persons and are sort of mobile. Say you’re out on the ocean and you need a little more ballast on one side of the ship to compensate for a storm.

It’s fast and easy to say, “Hey, you! Yeah, you. Ballast guy. The one wearing the Homer Simpson shirt. Little to your left, please. Perfect!”

Moving several hundred pounds of sand from one side of a ship to the other? Not so fast and easy.

How many times has a friend said, “Hey, got some ballast?” and you have had to reply, “No, sorry, I don’t.”

If you are hefty, you can say instead: “I’ll be your ballast, buddy. Let’s do some shipping!”

This is just one of the many things that make large people happy. For example, we chubsters have less fear of traffic than skinny people do. If you are big and flabby enough, you can bounce a Mini Cooper into the next county.

You might be a little sore in the gut the next day, but it’s nothing a couple of Big Macs and milkshakes can’t fix.

Fat people do not die of hypothermia as often as skinny people do. Research is unclear on whether this is because we’re better insulated or simply more inclined to spend time on the couch than explore Antarctica.

But either way, our survival mechanisms are more sensible. We are one or two layers ahead, before we even dress for the cold. Think of the extra closet space. Think of the time savings. Think of the ugly sweater savings.

All told, we are more useful than skinny people. Children use us as trampolines. Seated and leaned back only slightly, we can balance canned beverages on our tummies while watching auto racing on TV. And we’re content, because food triggers happy hormones at least as effectively as exercise does.

So fear not national health studies and media fear mongering. Get on the fat-and-happy bandwagon.

Just be careful you don’t tip it over.

George Lee lives, writes, edits and justifies his chubbiness in Edmonton. Reach him at piecesofgeorge@featureswest.com.