This post has nothing to do with food. When I was a kid my Dad drove a beat up Chevy. It was a sixties type of car, not real fancy but got us from Point A to Point B. Dad literally drove that thing until it fell apart. Ten years ago I bought a 2006 Ford Taurus used with 15,366 miles on the odometer. I wanted a reliable car that I could drive until it fell apart.
The manager at the local auto shop I use told me this car was the best 06 Taurus he had ever seen. I said no. I told him this was the best 06 Taurus he’ll ever see. The CD player just might keep and never spit out your CD. Every now and then the fan for the AC sounds like Tweety Bird. But I just got the car back from the shop after its 60,000 mile maintenance.
I plan on driving this thing until it falls apart but I might not live that long.
The title is catchy and leads you to believe you can “prevent” diabetes with diet. I personally favor the concept of delaying diabetes rather than preventing the disease. My father (deceased) had, and my youngest brother has diabetes. I knew what my risk was and continues to be.
Many years ago I asked one of the country’s top endocrinologists what I could do to avoid developing diabetes. His answer was short and simple:
Researchers have found — for the first time — that a diet yielding high amounts of the short-chain fatty acids acetate and butyrate provided a beneficial effect on the immune system and protected against type 1 or juvenile diabetes.
Mac and cheese, chili, eggs, hash browns, omelets, buffalo wings—probably not what you’re thinking of when you hear “burger toppings.” What happened to the good old days when a burger was a patty, a bun, and maybe some lettuce, tomato, and mayo?
Turning and turning in the widening gyre | The falcon cannot hear the falconer | Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold | Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world | The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere | The ceremony of innocence is drowned | The best lack all conviction, while the worst | Are full of passionate intensity. -- W.B. Yeats, The Second Coming