When I was a barefoot boy in rural Pennsylvania (a few years after the most recent glacial retreat), the principal labor-saving devices of personkind - then sexistically called mankind - were goofing off, shirking responsibility or having a staff of lackeys.

You wanted to listen to the radio or change stations? You got off your butt and did the dials. Wanted heat? You shoveled coal. Wanted in or out? You worked the doors by hand. Grass needed cutting? Push a mower. Uneaten garbage? You schlepped it to a slop bucket. Wanted to play golf? You lugged your own thundersticks. Had to go to school? You walked (typically several miles, as I recall it, and uphill both ways). Wanted pearly teeth? You polished 'em manually. Felt like going places? Most often, you traveled by shank's mare, unless your family had a real horse or a Tin Lizzy.

Had you been blessed with motherhood back then, you also got to hand-wash most garments and dry goods, shove them through a wringer after rinsing, then drape them on a clothesline, while casting a worrisome eye on storm clouds.

Among those families less monetarily endowed, there were unpleasant treks to and from the privy.

Curiously, these are still referred to by some - me militantly not among them - as the "good old days;" old, maybe, but not all that good.

Thenadays, obesity was a relatively minor concern, largely due to a much higher level of physical activity and the fact that Whoppers and whopping doses of fries were not yet available at almost every intersection on the planet.

We were a leaner species then, and less likely to have either clogged arteries or mushy six-packs both above and below a barely identifiable waistline.

Thereafter, human artifacts such as your humble scribe, stood witness to a massive invasion of American life by "modern conveniences," each one rapidly morphing from luxury status to a basic necessity.

They included automatic washers, dryers and dishwashers, room thermostats to maintain comfortable room temperature, power mowers, microwave ovens, indoor plumbing, golf carts, multiple family flivvers, automatic garage door openers, electric tooth brushes and that last bastion of male dominance, the remote control of a multitasking entertainment center.

Young people who formerly went to school on foot, roller skates or bicycles are now shuttled door-to-door by bus or parentpower. They tend to spend much of their discretionary time emulating statuary in front of the boob tube, cellphoning or text messaging, jabbing at electronic keyboard games and only occasionally breaking a sweat in athletic pursuits.

As a result, we Americans of all vintages have advanced in age, avoirdupois, girth and sponginess at a rate similar to that of aspirant sumo wrestlers or geese destined for a Foie Gras platter.

Mind you, I don't argue that life would be better if we still churned our ice cream by hand and hand-cranked our automobiles, but replacing physical tasks with machines creates a buildup of unburned calories, gradually changing fit to fat and rendering wardrobes obsolete.


It also makes many of us grateful that mirrors are mercifully fogged up when we step out of the shower.

According to Dr. James Levine, of the prestigious Mayo Clinic, the avoidance of normal chores due to modern conveniences may account for a daily surplus of up to 200 calories, unburnt energy that, sez he, "potentially could account for the entire obesity epidemic."

Hitting closer to home, The Cooper Institute in Dallas, found that completing daily tasks without automated assistance increases one's energy burn-up by as many as 300 calories daily, preventing 2.5 pounds of fat from being added at month's end.

Weight (and waist) results vary, but it stands to reason that unless saved energy is not otherwise consumed, today's macho man becomes tomorrow's matzoh ball and present sylphs are inevitably the roly-polies of the future.

The answer? Neither pleasant nor complex. If you're more rotund and gelatinous than you'd like to be, but unwilling to change your eating habits, figure out the least painful way to burn an extra 200 calories per day and see if that does the trick in a month or so - then adjust.

For me, that would mean a half-hour at 4 mph EVERY day, with a TV monitor for diversion.

Your formula will vary and you should consult both a doctor and an exercise expert.

Alternatively, just hang out with fatter people and hope you'll beat the odds. Meanwhile, you are your blubber's keeper.