Normally, I’d be more than glad to ruthlessly mock even the slightest celebrity weight gain (usually while eating a whole ham with my bare hands and trying to escape the encroaching realization that no one will ever love me), but this I do not approve of:
Never mind entertainment writer Jeffrey Wells’ weekend tweak that “Martin is looking older and puffier than I’d prefer” in the movie. In real life, the actor-funnyman is newly svelte and fit.
You just don’t make fun of Steve Martin, Mr. Wells. Steve Martin is like everyone’s Hollywood dad. Even if he were morbidly obese, to call the man who sang King Tut “fat” would be like saying Allison Janney “looks odd” or that Alec Baldwin “has a violent temper.” They are still awesome and you are not. And though what you say may be true, nobody will take kindly to you saying it. Least of all me. And I have about 200 pounds of ham in my crawl space, and I’m not above pummelling you with it. And if in all the delicious confusion, I were to mistake you for a rump and take a chunk out of your thigh, you’ll only have yourself to blame.
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