In that old Woody Allen comedy, “Sleeper,” Woodrow wakes hundreds of years into the future to discover 20th century scientists were wrong. McDonald’s IS good for you.

As I started counting, I was dismayed to learn a sad total of 21st century life. Everything is bad for me.

Red meat, in significant tonnage, can clog my arteries. Who wants slippery arteries anyway? Imagine. Blood flowing at breakneck speeds. You could be walking around a corner and your circulatory system could be going in the other direction so fast, why, you’d tumble.

I’m not supposed to have dairy, which includes ice cream, eggs and butter.

I know. There is some shrill dietitian out there all pinched faced who will shriek: “You can have ice cream. But only a thimble-full, my pretty!”

If anyone, anyone significantly smaller than me, said that to my face, I’d snap their little pencil neck.

I don’t want moderation, especially in ice cream. I want to climb over the counter at Baskin Robbins, lie in the freezer in a fetal position and just slowly nurse on five gallons of Jamoca Almond Fudge.

There’s a pleasant career. Ice Cream Monster. You live at the bottom of a cavernous container of Pralines and Crème, surfacing every once in a while for air, only the sticky top of your head and your glazed-over little hippopotamus eyes showing.

Can’t have too much alcohol, nor that devil sugar. Can’t have too much caffeine, starch, sleep, beer, naughty blonde stewardesses, peanut butter, fat or pudding. I’ve also been learning there is such a thing as too much exercise. You can even have too much tuna now I read. There’s mercury in the little beggars.

Who, in their right mind, would feed a thermometer to a fish?

And now, drat it all, people in lab coats are reminding me that too much salt can lead to death.


I like salt.

Dieticians snitch that sneaky people all over the world have been lacing my food with salt. It seems the average American consumes nearly two teaspoons of salt daily, well over half the recommended dose. Most of that is hidden in the foods we buy, from soup to soy sauce. They especially dump the stuff in your fast foods.

What do people want from me? To eat fruits and vegetables?


That Jerry Brown has to be behind this. I can just see her dour puss on the TV: “Due to a $950 zillion budget deficit, which most of it is going to pay for 250 percent fat retirement packages for government workers, we’re asking everyone in California to stop eating things with salt in it and use lawn cuttings to season your food.”

Moon. Butthead. Beam.

I used to go through a big bag of David’s Sunflower Seeds every few days. You know. The 36-pound pack that you carry over your shoulder? I wasn’t aware of the down side to that much salt until my dad informed me they use salt to mummify people. Not only that, the Egyptians used salt to commit suicide. You take enough of the stuff and it dries up your innards in a most serious fashion. 

As I’m reading all these reports on the negative side of over-salting my food, it’s starting to give me the willies. Too much salt can cause hypertension.

All these years, I thought I was just suffering from stress.

Too much salt can cause high blood pressure. Mine’s 1,011 over 6.

Is that bad?

I like 1,011 over 6. It likes an Olympic basketball score for the U.S. playing Biafra.

“We’re too weak to play,” the team says, not able to get off the bench. “Too much salt.”

Actually, I’m okay, I tell myself. Begrudgingly, I’m eating better and exercising. But I really do get weary of these underweight and serious people holding daily press conferences to announce: “The list of deadly sins has now been increased to 1.6 million. No matter what you’re doing, stop.”

They do have a point. Everything, it seems, leads to death.

You know what I’d like?

I’d like to turn on the TV some day or open a paper and there’s a big announcement. The FDA was wrong. The new four basic food groups have been modified up to ten and now include bacon, coffee, beer, chocolate, butter toffee nuts, hot dogs, doughnuts, doughnuts, pizza, and, of course, salt.

Not like that’s ever going to happen.

The next thing you know, someone in the FDA is going announce that smoking cigars and dating a younger woman is bad for me.


(SCV author John Boston also writes The Time Ranger & SCV History for your SCV Beacon. He’s has earned more than 100 major awards for writing, including being named, several times, America’s best humor, and, best serious columnist. Don’t forget to check out his national humor, entertainment & swashbuckling commentary website, America’s Humorist — http://www.johnbostonchronicles.com/) — © 2017 by John Boston. All rights reserved.

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