My Supplement Journal

I became enamored with
supplements in my 20's,
a byproduct of adolescent
maturation: growing, dreaming,
planning, achieving.  A naivete
spun into my psyche. Authorative
sources promising a dividend
if I would only follow their advice,
heed their warnings, spouting
platitudes; two servings of fruits
and vegetables every day,
take your vitamins, exercise regularly
Lurching into adulthood, deciding
to try the holistic approach,
realizing that Fred Flintstone vitamins
could not produce the vitality and
virility that would transform my
gaunt, lanky frame into a bionic
humanoid, I searched the herb
market for an elixir that could
alter my mind and body. The
innocent freedom to probe
the outer limits of medicine
as I had known it, allure of
the modern soothsayers;
snake charmers with instant cures,
shamans who saw my predestined
future, longevity, quality of life
and of course, the self-proclaimed
sages, herbatologists, who certifiably
made claims based upon their
unscientific methods, experiments

Searching for a herb with not just
secular acclaim, stumbled onto
bee pollen. A natural food with
Biblical precedent, consumable
granules laced with the enzymes
of doting bees. It led to a conundrum
of sorts. Never experimenting with
foreign substances, but knowing
other freaks that freely imbibed
and snorted them, I wondered
how I should ingest the wispy fibers.
Sholuld I snort the processed powder,
smoke the congealed grains, or chew
the dry fodder as a bloated Heifer
who had six more stomachs than
me to digest the toxic compounds
Reverting back to my childhood
routine, I decided to sprinkle
the flavorless grains onto my
pre-sweetened cereal.

A few years later, feeling no better,
feeling no worse, I branched out,
adding guava and apricot extracts
to my daily regimen. After a few
months of constipation, I abandoned
the dry, raw additives completely
moving to a liquid therapy. No more
chewing bland, textureless substances.
Green tea had the exotic appeal to
satiate my dreams,to reach Shangri-la,
not by travel, but by assimilating
my dietary habits with the gracefully-
aging peoples of the orient. No
transition needed, being a southern boy
from Georgia, substituted a healthy
green brew instead of a black brew
at lunch and dinner,though, reluctantly
exchanging naturally-processed cane
sugar for Sweet & Low.

Quiet happy for years thereafter, I
perked along, feeling no better
but no worse, exclaiming to all
who would listen about my healthy
lifestyle, then the magic potion
sprang into the marketplace, the
super food, Acai. From the jungles
of South America came the cure-all
supplement I had longed for.
The antioxidant-rich mixture flowed
into my stomach, then spewed from
my bowels. I added juicers, mixers,
strainers to my kitchen stock,
processing the nutrient-laced
berries into juices, shakes, smoothies.
As a testament to my intestinal
fortitude and over-worked intestines,
to this day my diet remains
supplement-rich, even though I
feel no better or no worse.