Purslane: A Blessing and a curse

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As part of my annual penance for being a man, I put in a garden to provide for the family and other assorted people who wander through the house and yard. For more years than I care to count, I have had several enemies in this quest to become the kind of provider I long to become. Deer, quail, raccoons, and rabbits are major hindrances in this quest, but if I was just a little more of a man, I would pull out my bow and arrows or trusty rifle and kill them for meat. Maybe when the apocalypse arrives I’ll have to do that, but so far all I’ve done is grumble a lot and, well, I did buy a little pistol that shoots steel bb’s. But it’s hard to get out there and even shoot the bb’s when the rest of the household is fawning over how cute the little bunnies or quail are. I did draw the line, however, when the raccoons moved into the attic.

So, animals are somewhat of a problem, but even more problematic are weeds. They have to be pulled out at regular intervals all through the growing season. One weed stands at the top of the heap as far as its pestilential qualities: purslane. This import from the Middle East can literally take over the garden in a week. I pull and till and hoe them out and they come right back. The leaves and stems will resprout if left in the soil. The plants each produce thousands of seeds each year and–I just learned this–the seeds can remain dormant in your soil for 30-40 years and then still sprout.

Well, I discovered something else this summer. Actually, I have known this fact for some time, but I have never acted on it. You can eat purslane. The number one weed enemy in my garden is edible. And even though I had been told this in scouts many years ago, I thought it might be like some of those other things I learned in scouts. You know. Stuff like if polluted water flows over a hundred yards of  rocks, then it would be alright to drink it. Or if you go down to the lake in the middle of the night when the moon is full and howl like a wolf, you will turn into a werewolf. Neither of these (and lots of other things I was told in scouts) are true, and I should know, I tried them. 

Well, back to purslane. I decided, in spite of my reservations about what I learned in scouts, to try and eat some purslane. I picked a big pot full and still did not put a dent in the crop growing in my garden. Then I cleaned and trimmed it, put it in some water and boiled it, added some butter, salt, pepper, lemon juice and...Wow! It was delicious. Every bit as good as spinach or beet greens and according to Wikipedia, very nutritious. So, I am ready to fight back. Purslane watch out. I plan to eat my way out of my weed problem. In fact, I might be convinced to to let a few of them stay...if they behave themselves.

Old Fatty

So, I went to visit my doctor recently and, I don't know about you, but I rarely get good news when I go. It's either high blood pressure, high cholesterol, deteriorating joints, or as was the case this time too much fat. Not too much fat in the diet. Too much fat on me. Apparently I am one of those kind of people who do not handle excess fat well. It seems to be building up on and around my liver and creating a disease called "fatty liver disease." I'm not kidding. I wonder who thought that one up. I mean when the doctors were all sitting around thinking up disease names, what happened?

"Let's see," said doctor #1. "I have observed a disease that causes inflammation of the joints and deterioration of the cartilage. Let's call it rheumatoid arthritis."

Doctor #2 was studying and thinking about heart failure and said, "I think we should call this acute myocardial infarction."

Then there was doctor #3. "Hey this guy's got a liver with fat oozing out of it. I'm thinking fatty liver disease sounds pretty good."

I can't believe the guy even made it through medical school. What was he thinking? I mean if you tell someone that you had an acute myocardial infarction, they're gonna say something like, "Oh, that's terrible. I'm so sorry." Even if they don't know that it's just a fancy way of saying "heart attack." But try telling someone you have fatty liver disease. They usually have a hard time not busting a gut laughing out loud. Nobody is going to take you seriously when you have a disease with a name like that.

But nonetheless, my doctor–after he wiped away the tears from his eyes because he was laughing so hard–gave me a stern look and said, "Bart, you need to lose about 20-30 lbs. If you do not, you risk serious liver damage down the road a few years. I would recommend that you cut everything you like out of your diet."

It's not bad enough that I have a disease that sounds like an elementary school kid made it up, but the cure for the disease is to cut edible foods out of my diet. Oh, I can have the old fruits and vegetables, blah, blah, blah. But fundamental foods like pizza, cake, pumpkin pie, ice cream, coke, buttered scones, and Cinnabons have to go. What kind of a cure is that? Don't they have a pill or an operation or some cool machine that would solve the problem? For example, I looked up the recommended course of action for someone who has had a myocardial infarction on Wikipedia. It said, "Most cases of myocardial infarction with ST elevation on ECG (STEMI) are treated with reperfusion therapy, such as percutaneous coronary intervention (PCI) or thrombolysis. Non-ST elevation myocardial infarction (NSTEMI) may be managed with medication, although PCI may be required if the patient's risk warrants it."

Now that's serious therapy, even if I have no idea what it means.

Why doesn't the government work on any really serious problems...like halitosis?

I have remained silent on this issue for far too long. However, it's time to "bite the bullet" and speak up. The issue is this: There are far too many people in the world who are completely clueless about how bad their breath is. And to compound the problem, none of us will tell them about it. We just stand there and grin and pretend that we are completely enjoying the fact that six inches away from us there is a volcano issuing forth toxic gases that could wilt a two-by-four.

Seriously, this is a major problem. Even when we do work up the courage to try and do something about it, things often backfire. I tried once to tell a friend that perhaps a couple of tic tacs would be in order, and might even help him to get a second date. He never spoke to me again. I was just trying to help. Really.

Just the other day I was working with an individual whose breath was somewhere around 7 to 8 on the 10 point scale where 1 is fresh, sweet mountain air and 10 is a mixture of dead fish and rotted, maggot infested cow. I pulled out a couple of breath mints and offered them to him in a polite, but non-threatening way and he smiled back at me and said, "No...no, thanks. I'm fine." I wanted to scream, "No, you are not fine! Your breath smells like you ate a pot of ten-year old fermented gingko berries for breakfast!" (And, by the way, I do know what rotted, fermented gingko berries smell like because there is a tree full of them right outside my office building that fall all over the sidewalk every year and then get stepped on and tramped into the building where we all look around to see who stepped in the doggy you-know-what).

But I digress...I, of course, did not say that his breath smelled like fermented gingko berries. I just smiled and took a couple steps back, a move that would have helped except for the fact that he then took a couple of steps forward to keep our conversation more personal, I suppose.

Well, I have a plan to solve this problem and I mean to get to work on it right away. I am planning to see if I can get President Obama to take this on. He is one of the few people who has the will and the means to tackle a problem as serious as this one. I hope that by next year we can have breath scanners in all public places...no...why stop there. We'll get him to put whole body smell scanners. That way we can catch those with any kind of offending body odor (from whatever part they are coming from). Those who do not comply will be locked up together for a couple of days to enjoy each others company and emanations.

This whole idea has me so worked up that I'm getting hungry. Think I'll go finish that leftover garlic and anchovy pizza.