Oh, KISD FM, I’m just gonna say it: you need better promos than this. Or maybe just stick to the new music promos. That always got my attention and wanted me to stay tuned in. But a DJ making jokes about getting fat over the holidays? And making a less-than-veiled reference to the fact that Roseanne Barr was overweight? Sorry, KISD FM, but I don’t think I thought that was funny even back then.
Oh, don’t get me wrong, KISD FM. I made my share of Roseanne Barr jokes. Everybody did. “Roseanne” (the TV show) was a big deal, and I watched it religiously. She was crazy successful. And also became synonymous with being fat. “Roseanne Barr” was a punchline. Calling someone “Roseanne Barr” was saying “You’re a fat woman.” We made jokes about it all the time in school.
The thing is, “being fat” had nothing to do with Roseanne’s act or her ridiculously good TV show (we won’t talk about the last few seasons. . .). She was a loud, brash, blue-collar lady who made sarcasm an art form. Maybe I’m remembering it wrong, but exploiting her weight issues was never part of her act. Nowadays, her weight wouldn’t even be enough to land her a show on TLC, a TV channel that has turned exploiting people’s bodies into an art form. So I’m actually more than a little horrified when I think back to the many jokes I laughed at or made on my own or saw on TV about Roseanne being fat. That has to be kinda awful, having the entire country making fun of you because you’re fat.
As I’m sitting here pondering my own not-insubstantial gut, of which I’m SUPER self-conscious about, I wouldn’t be surprised if some of that self-consciousness comes from some subconscious memories of all the fat jokes I made and laughed at as a kid. It looks like the chickens done come home to roost. On my belly. Because there’s a lot of room there.