British Pounds-a-Plenty

For those of you who like your sopranos plump, I bring bad tidings.

The Royal Opera House, here in London, has just sacked Deborah Voight, one of the best known voices in the musical world. Miss Voight is in a huff. And Miss Voight is big in opera. That's the point.

When they tried to squeeze her ample diaphragm into a natty black costume for the part of Ariadne, things became ... how, shall we say ... a little overcrowded. This opera was penned by Richard Strauss and Ariadne is the lead role. But the costume could not accommodate the extra rolls that came as part of the Deborah Voight package. All 250 pounds of it. And instead of ordering a few extra miles of dress-making cloth, the opera house ditched the diva. A cruel blow for a lady who sings like an angel, but weighs like a Sumo wrestler.

In London, you see, size is everything. Even our government is obsessed with obesity. They are dishing out vegetable vouchers to poor families and pregnant women in an effort to woo them off fatty foods. We are, apparently, fat too busy putting the Great back into Great Britain ... with our mouths. In the recent past it has been my sad duty to report in this slot some of the results of our national gluttony ... dear departed overweight relatives too big to cram into the cremators, for example. Wobbling swathes of my once-thin fellow countrymen now gobble their way to blocked arteries and early graves courtesy of American-style fast food.

Did you know that there are parts of Britain which now bounce up and down by four inches at least twice a day? It is not a joke. It is a geological fact recently proven by global positioning satellites. The only logical explanation is too much weight. Our politicians are alarmed. If we don't start shedding pounds fast, it could lead to a national public spending crisis. As ever, we blame America.

But back at the Royal Opera House, it's all over. The fat lady won't be singing after all.

By Ed Boyle