The news about healthful diets gets confusing

Today, We Honor The Overall Man Classic Bill Mead

Reprinted with permission from Tehachapi Lifestyle Magazine, January 2013 issue.

Since I was told I have heart disease I have tried to fine tune my diet so that my arteries don't clog up so fast. I'm beginning to think it's an exercise in futility, not because I can't control my eating habits but because the experts can't seem to agree on what got me into this fix in the first place.

It all seemed so simple when somebody discovered cholesterol and identified it as the stuff that accumulates in blood vessels like grease in a sewer pipe. The gospel in those early days was that if you don't eat fats you won't get cholesterol.

If they had stopped their infernal research at that point I wouldn't have become so con­fused. But now I am told that not all fat and not all cholesterol are bad. What counts is the ratio between two kinds of cholesterol.

As I should have known, my ratio is considered very bad in spite of my efforts to be good at the dinner table. On top of that, I saw in the paper last year that people with very low cholesterol commit suicide more often than fat-laden slobs like me. Health pros claim they don't know why that is but I have a pretty good idea. If I had to live on vegetables I would sooner or later start looking for a high bridge to jump off of.

I wish I could feel confident about all the advice I'm getting as to how to keep my arteries open but I get suspicious when authoritative opinion changes every Monday morning. On one hand I'm told that moderate exercise will work wonders and then I read statistics clearly indicating that people who sit on their cans live about as long as those who jog till their tongues hang out. Frankly, I would happily forgo an extra few weeks of life if I can just stay in my chair.

Whenever I find myself in a health quan­dary I consult my tried and true advisor who happens to be a local real estate broker. He recommended that I start taking some quack medications that real doctors scoff at.

When I saw my real doctor the last time, she was concerned about my persistently-high cholesterol level and explained that something drastic was called for. I expected another prescription for some exotic drug.

But guess what? She told me to increase the dosage of one of my quack medicines.

For this I have to give credit to my consult­ing physician, "Dr." Don Adams, your friendly neighborhood realtor. But don't call Don for an appointment. I hear he's not taking any new patients.