Commentary

Why I Hate The Girl Scouts

My g-g-g-generation grew up vowing to "do our own thing."

Who knew that our thing would be getting fat?

You would think that after all those years (well, four, anyway) of civil rights sit-ins, anti-war marches and various walks on Washington for the environment, equal rights for women, gays, and migrant workers, we'd be the fittest middle-agers of all time. But nope, we're some of the most obese.

Since our operating philosophy has been to find someone or something to blame for the world's ills, we could rightfully blame American food companies (that produce much of the world's high-calorie, high-profit sodas and snacks.) Especially since they are pressuring the US Department of Health and Human Services to trash the World Health Organization for simply recommending we eat more fruits and vegetables, and limit our intake of foods high in fats and sugars.

But, I'm blaming my waistline on The Girl Scouts of America.

Just as baseball season is ending, the US Fat Season begins with Halloween followed in rapid succession by Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine's Day, then Easter.

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If they were just 24 hour events, we might survive them, but they are not. Thanks to marketing muscle, each "holiday" is preceded by weeks and weeks of promotions, so that each becomes a "mini FAT season." For example, with Halloween, the danger is not in scarfing from the Trick or Treat bowl between cloying visits from miniature Power Rangers, Cheerleaders and Pokemon characters, it's raiding the candy bags days before Halloween, snacking on the leftovers (it is against the law to throw away candy, isn't it?) and then leafing through what the kids bring home to sneak a mini Krackle or Tootsie Pop hoping that they won't miss a piece or two out of a foot-high pile. By the time the Halloween candy goes on half-price at CVS, you are 3 lbs chunkier.

The process repeats itself though the end of the year, until our New Year's Resolve to lose the early Fat season weight (knowing that second-semester's Valentine's and Easter will soon track chocolate across our lips.) But, we aren't three weeks back to the gym or 21 days into our South Beach/Atkins/Your Choice diet when what gets delivered to our door? GIRL SCOUT COOKIES!!!

Who even remembers placing the orders?

"Didn't I just buy wrapping paper or magazines from you? Oh, that was for school? Ok... give me one box of each. What do you mean you can't get the clock radio unless I buy more? I'll buy you a goddamned clock radio. OK, ok, stop crying... I'll take five boxes of each kind."

When they arrive we think we'll just fob them off on co- workers who will cheerily thank us. But, no they shrink in horror as if we've offered them a prion-ladened rare cheese burger or a disc of nuclear waste. Not on their diet plans either, huh?

The most popular cookie (revealed on the official Girl Scout cookie website, which, by the way offers NO nutritional information on their wares) is Thin Mints. According to the website of one of the cookie makers (the other one ain't given up any cookie content, either) an average serving of Thin Mints is 4 cookies (clearly they haven't learned the culinary art of sticking them in the freezer, where you are then tempted, nay obligated to eat the entire stack since you don't want any leftovers to get that freezer taste.) Each "serving" contains 140 calories -- of which 60 are from Fat -- and 9 grams of sugar. My favorite, Samoas/Caramel deLites have 12 grams of sugar per serving.

Just because the Girl Scouts have been selling cookies since the 1920s doesn't mean that it's right. McDonald's has sold "billions and billions" and look where that got us! Can't the Girl Scouts do something useful like walk dogs or babysit as fundraisers? I'd pay them more to wash my car in January than I did for 20 boxes of cookies that clearly NOBODY really wants.

Now, I appreciate that dieting is largely a self-control issue and I shouldn't blame the Girl Scouts if I can't keep my fingers off the Peanut Butter Tagalongs, but on the other hand if the town's little league baseball players showed up at my door in January with Krispy Kremes, I'd fend them off with my son's paintball gun.

Can we at least get delivery out of the Fat season? By August I've generally exercised off the damage from the Halloween-Easter continuum. A stack of frozen Thin Mints over Labor Day would be pretty tasty!

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