Roughly 15 years ago I was having a chat with a professional woman of some size, and I was about to allude to people of girth when I realized I might get myself in trouble. I needed to put on my tiptoe shoes. Before I knew it I was scrambling and a bit anxious. I obviously didn’t want to say “fat” or “obese” or “overweight” — all shaming terms. It would have also been wrong to say “person with a weight problem” because in p.c. circles excess weight isn’t a problem. I also knew that “rotund” was out because it sounded snide. This was all whirring through my brain within three or four seconds, mind. So I seized on the term “calorically challenged.” It seemed respectful, no attitude or judgment implied — the equivalent of calling a short person “height-challenged.” And you know what? The professional woman took offense. She didn’t say in so many words that I was being an insulting smart-ass, but that’s what she was thinking. It was then that I realized that there’s no winning in this atmosphere. You just have to live and think in denial. Overweight people don’t exist. All shapes and sizes are beautiful. You just can’t say anything else. You realize what I’m describing, don’t you? In a sense we’re all living in that 1961 Twilight Zone episode called “It’s a Good Life,” and all the p.c. militants are a version of Anthony.