I usually write about my whacky life and this is probably a detour from that, but not completely. Although I have lived the life unusual, it has not been without come-uppance karma. My childhood of the five food groups—sugary, salty, crunchy, greasy, and gooey, plus my early adult life of partying, drinking, smoking, and, well other stuff,  left its toll. One of them was something that seems to be catching up to a lot of us—Gluten allergy and intolerance.

According to people who track this sort of thing, Gluten intolerance is rampant. Just take a look at Amazon's offering for cookbooks and you'll see a lot of gluten free titles. Search "Gluten free" on Amazon and you come up with thousands of titles.

I've read that many people don't even know what's wrong with them, they just feel aweful, have rashes, migraines, digestive problems, joint pain, weakness, depression, and a host of other symptoms. The lucky ones figure out that they have a problem with gluten or wheat—no drugs or surgery required.

Mr. Green Jeans through the looking glass

I just read a really good article on the Web that, of course, I didn't bookmark and can't find again, on the new fad of being gluten-free. Alas, it triggered memories of what I call "Signature Ailments and Cures" across the many decades I have been a resident of this big blueberry in sky.

When I was a child, I watched a kiddie show hosted by Captain Kangaroo (Bob Keeshum). His sidekick was farmer/handyman, Mr. Green Jeans (Hugh Brannum). Green Jeans was the voice of natural healthiness. I would sit on the floor, in front of our  black and white TV, munching on my Skippy peanut butter and Welches' grape jelly sandwich on fluffy Wonder Bread, totally ignoring what he was saying about "eat your vegetables."