Janet Urquhart: Who’s really to blame here?
What do they mean, my body fat is my own doing?
Those fatheads in the Capitol are poised to pass the “cheeseburger bill” and bar my right to blame restaurants for my personal rotunda.
I suppose this means I won’t be able to sue Paradise Bakery, either. Yeah, like the irresistible aromas floating out of that place early in the morning aren’t every bit as insidious as the nicotine-laden products foisted upon an unsuspecting populace by Big Tobacco. You can blame your addiction to unfiltered Camels on the manufacturer but can’t go after McDonald’s for your Big Mac attacks or the Girl Scouts for saturating your fat with Thin Mints?
Wake up, people. Our rights as innocent victims of self-inflected perpetrations are being incrementally trampled. Think about the ramifications.
One day, you can’t blame your thighs on that bucket of finger-lickin’ good, extra-crispy fried chicken and the next thing you know, HBO will be held harmless for your tele-tubbiness.
Is it the consumer’s fault that the big enchilada always comes with a side of refried beans and rice? That’s the restaurant’s doing. How can my cholesterol count be my fault when those bottomless baskets of delectable, deep-fried tortilla chips appear on the table with my margaritas?
If I can’t blame Taco Bell for a burrito bulge, you can bet the tequila bottlers aren’t going to pony up reparations for my liver damage.
And what about my loss of hearing? Can’t I sue the Ramones and the maker of my portable CD player?
Isn’t it just a matter of time before we can’t blame the driver, the bus manufacturer or the government that subsidizes mass transit when we get squished beneath the giant tires of the accelerating bus we blindly step off the curb right in front of? And will we be held similarly responsible for ending a sentence with a preposition? Isn’t the computer program really at fault for any grammatical faux pas it allows us to commit?
If the knotheads in Washington have their way, we won’t be able to sue the cell phone company when we mow down a pedestrian in the crosswalk while we’re chatting it up behind the wheel of our SUV, either. Yeah, like the fact the phone rang is our fault. What about the idiot strolling across the street?
And when you accidentally slam your hand in the door of your Expedition, don’t expect a wad of cash from the Ford Motor Co., even though there clearly is no warning label on the vehicle to caution you against the aforementioned mishap.
Electrocuted by your toaster again? It’s all your fault for trying to pry out the bagel with a butter knife. Don’t try to pin it on G.E., Lender’s Bagels or the real culprit ” the electric company.
Sick of this stupid column? Don’t blame the writer. You’re the moron who read it.
[Janet Urquhart is feeling litigious. Her e-mail address is janet @aspentimes.com]
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