A few years ago, I worked as a freelance copy editor for a sports publisher. The fellow in the neighboring cubicle was a rotund fellow named Pete. Pete was a nice guy, to be sure, and he always had some great soundbites. One of my favorites is, “You’re going to Seattle? Pffft…. Should be called Rainattle.” Yes, Pete had a sparkling wit. That, however, is not the point. Pete was enormous–he weighed almost 500 lbs prior to his gastric bypass. I left the company shortly after his surgery and he still weighed an enormous amount. I’ll say it; he’ll admit it: He was huge. A mammoth mountain of a man. I was surprised that paperclips and staples didn’t get sucked into his gravitational pull and start orbiting around him.