Two Guys, One Hot Tub, Zero Definitions

America’s new nutrition guideline: vibes, denim, dairy

There are moments when the government reaches out and says, “We’re here for you.” And there are moments when the government reaches out shirtless, drenched in sauna sweat, climbs into a hot tub in jeans, and clinks glasses of whole milk with Kid Rock like they just closed escrow on a Bass Pro Shops.

That second one is new. The video is called something like “Rock Out Workout” and I want to be fair, I want to be open-minded, I want to respect the office, respect public service, and respect wellness. But you cannot ask Americans to take your health message seriously while you are doing CrossFit cosplay in a steam room with a celebrity who looks like he yells “YEEHAW” at an airport Chili’s. This is not public health, this is an algorithm trying to get custody.

The message is “GET ACTIVE and EAT REAL FOOD.” Simple, clean, two commandments, almost like Moses himself came across the red sea with a protein shaker and a Bluetooth speaker. And honestly, I’m not against those words, “get active,” fine, I agree, “eat real food,” sure, eating healthy makes sense. But the problem is: the government does not get to speak exclusively in bumper sticker while running an empire of paperwork.

“Eat real food” is the kind of advice a guy gives you right before he sells you an essential oil that “supports gut health.” It’s not a policy, it’s not even a sentence, it’s a vibe, at best. And we do not need vibes right now, we need definitions. Because “real food” sounds obvious until you are standing in a grocery store holding a box of cereal like it is a legal document.

What is “real food”? Is a bagel real? Is it real if it’s gluten-free? Is it real if it’s shaped like a cartoon character? Is it real if it’s organic but it costs the same as a car payment? Is pasta real? It used to be. But lately it feels like if something contains flour, someone on a podcast will call it a “seed oil delivery vehicle.”

“Eat real food” is how your aunt who discovered Pilates talks, it’s not how the federal government should talk, because the federal government is not your aunt, the federal government is a machine that can turn “eat a vegetable” into a 63-page PDF and still accidentally ban your lunch.

Also, let’s talk about timing. “Eat real food” is being delivered to Americans as grocery prices keep doing that thing where you walk in for three items, walk out with two items, and somehow owe $47 and your dignity.

You can’t come in like, “Hey America, just eat real food,” when the average person is out here budgeting like it’s the Great Depression. That’s the part that makes it feel insulting, like you are scolding the nation from a hot tub. And then there’s the SNAP part, because this is where “eat real food” stops being a harmless slogan and starts becoming a policy fight with a human cost.

SNAP doesn’t run on vibes, SNAP runs on rules, very specific rules. SNAP is like: you can buy most food, but not hot food, not alcohol, not tobacco, not vitamins. If it says “Supplement Facts,” congratulations, it has crossed the border from “food” into “potion.”

And that is already confusing enough. You’re telling me a rotisserie chicken is basically classified as a weapon if it’s still warm? So, when the government starts chanting “real food,” what people hear, especially people who actually depend on benefits, is: we are about to start moralizing your grocery cart.

And I know someone will say, “Oh come on, nobody’s moralizing.” But the moralizing is baked into the slogan, “real food” is a judgment phrase. It’s saying: some food is real and some food is fake, some food is wholesome and some food is suspicious, some food is you, and some food is your bad choices, and we’re here to coach you from a hot tub, with whole milk slowly curdling from the steam of our denim sweat.

Imagine you’re a parent on SNAP, you’ve got two kids, you’ve got fifteen minutes, you’re trying to buy something they’ll actually eat. The government’s new health strategy is basically: good luck, idiot, choose correctly. And choose correctly according to what rubric? Because if “real food” means “whole foods,” great, but “whole foods” also happens to be a store where a single grape has a financing option.

If “real food” means “unprocessed,” okay, but have you ever watched a politician try to define “processed” without accidentally banning bread? Here’s the truth: every food is processed. Even an apple was processed, it was grown, it was picked, it was shipped, it was waxed, and it has a sticker on it like it’s been approved for release. When politicians say “processed,” what they mean is “the foods I don’t respect.” And that is not a category you can build a nutrition program around.

This is why the video is so perfect as a metaphor for the moment. You have a government that wants to look like it’s doing something, but it’s doing it in the form of a montage. Montage is not governance, a montage is what you do when you don’t have a plan, but you do have a producer.

And that’s the real punchline, they’re not selling us policy, they’re selling us an aesthetic: shirtless discipline, cold plunge toughness, “masculine” wellness, and a glass of milk like it’s 1957 and we’re all about to go build a highway, it’s nostalgia wellness, it’s “Back when men were men and the FDA didn’t ask questions.” But Americans don’t need a wellness cosplay, Americans need a grocery strategy. If you want people to eat “real food,” define it, put it in plain English, put it in a way that doesn’t punish people for being poor, busy, exhausted, or human.

Make it affordable, make it accessible, and make it possible. Because right now the message is: “Eat real food,” shouted from a hot tub, while the receipt prints out like a CVS scroll of national shame. And maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I miss when public health messaging came from doctors, not from a locker room bachelor party with dairy.

When the government wants to help, I want less “Rock Out Workout,” and more “Here are the rules, here’s what’s covered, here’s what we’re doing about prices, and here’s what ‘real food’ actually means.” Until then, enjoy the new national nutrition guideline: Get active, eat real food, share some cream with Kid Rock in a high end hot tub. And if you have questions, don’t bother, we don’t have the answers.