A conspiracy is threatening our nation that no one has the power to stop.

I am not talking about the military industrial complex, or foreign or domestic terrorists bent on the destruction of the United States. I am talking about a conspiracy of much greater magnitude, a joint effort of the confectionery industry and the weight loss industry.

Each year, the latter inundates our lives with tons of holiday delights: sweet and creamy coffee, foil-wrapped kisses, jellied ham sandwiches, Christmas cookies and walnut-laden chocolate brownies so smothered with powdered sugar that you’d expect to see a small plastic man skiing down their slopes.

Not a week of the holidays goes by without a new discovery of cake or candy. Chocolates of every stripe and hue are sculpted into ships, famous landmarks or people. Everyday colleagues and business associates bring in their spouses’ favorite concoctions, insisting that everyone take a piece in return for rave reviews about how this confection should be put on the market immediately. You never drive alone at this time of the year. There are always cellophane bags of lollipops, cashews, chocolate pieces and the indispensable slab of fruitcake on the front seat. The only sounds on the radio are holiday songs, broken up by men and women pitching more of the same perfect holiday treats.

Dinner consists of the most remarkable foods; it is hard to see where dinner ends and dessert begins. This insanity starts at Thanksgiving and comes to a crescendo during Christmas week. It appears everyone is locked into a mad contest to see who can bring in the most sugar-filled delights. It’s only at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s that it all comes to a crashing halt. The bright colors of the holiday season are put away and the confectionery pipelines shut down. It’s as if the world has finally run out of sugar.

Early the next morning, you can almost hear a sigh sweeping across the country, followed by an agonized scream, as the nation wipes off its steamed bathroom mirror and takes the first good look at itself in six weeks. This is where the conspiracy becomes evident.

The airwaves are now no longer filled with commercials about cakes and candies but instead by pitches for the perfect diet, the perfect food substitutes and, of course, the perfect exercise machine, promising to make you look like a respectable member of humanity again.

Overnight, the multimillion-dollar confectionery industry morphs into the multimillion-dollar health industry. The morning breakfast is replaced by a foil-wrapped piece of wood filled with fiber that promises to eliminate itself from your alimentary canal seconds after ingestion.

The drive to work is no longer accompanied by colorful cellophane-wrapped treats. In the hope of revealing the body lost beneath layers of holiday fat, a barbell or isometric rubber band sits on the seat waiting to be used. The airwaves are filled with commercials about where to find the perfect gym or the most technologically advanced exercise equipment. The post-holiday lunch consists of a thin piece of not-so-real cheese, smeared with a mustard substitute, in a roll that contains more air than bread. Where there used to be a festive atmosphere at work, stomachs growl. The radio is filled with messages that we needed to be punished for our holiday excesses, punishment reinforced by the music of Donna Summer.

It will take us many more weeks and many millions of dollars to become what we once were. The confectionery industry and the health industry have joined forces to control our lives and empty our pockets. We will struggle in vain to regain control of our lives and our appetites, only to watch the confectionery industry rise again – in the form of a giant chocolate heart.

— Special to the Press Herald

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