Sometimes, the journalism gods bless us with two stories that juxtapose so perfectly we couldn’t help but lick our lips at the chance to feast on synthesizing these two news-morsels together. Let’s dig in.
The Southern McTier
According to a recent poll, Binghamton clocked in as the second-most obese city in these United States. At a hefty 37.6 percent obesity rate, we might be scarfing down too many speidies and making too little use of the rail trail.
While the gerthy statistic is stark, it’s not wholly surprising. You’ve been to the Vestal Walmart, right?
In any case, we as a city need to find some ways to ground our collective skyrocketing body mass index. Proper diet and exercise is the most logical route, but let’s face it, as long as Kennedy’s Fried Chicken is still open we have a long road ahead of us. Maybe just walk there more often.
But in all seriousness, I think we can safely say that BU students are not major contributors to Binghamton’s big belly. Let’s keep on avoiding Sodexo’s tricks and continue paying membership for a gym whose fees are the only thing larger than Binghamton’s appetite for fried food.
Grocery Tree’s Next Top Model
In a strange twist of fate, America’s second-fattest city got a chance to boast its highest aspiring catwalkers at the Grocery Tree on Thursday for open “America’s Next Top Model” auditions. We didn’t take the burgeoning market to be a hotbed for fitness — they got rid of that salad bar, right?
But with Planet Fitness just next door, some of the Triple Cities’ diamonds in the thick rough made their way over to strut their stuff.
Even if Binghamton didn’t need to buy two tickets just to ride the airplane, we wonder what coerced the “ANTM” street team to recruit from Binghamton in the first place. Technically we were a stop on their college tour, but maybe if they glossed over the options in the New University Union Food Court first, they would’ve kept driving up Route 81.
Seriously though, searching for models in America’s second-fattest city — whether or not BU students saturate that number — sings a song of blissful irony.
Lather up that runway with some speidie sauce, Binghamton’s comin’ through.