I drove to the store and bought a large box of Old Fashioned Quaker Oats. I started eating oatmeal morning, noon, and night. I like looking at the Pilgrim on the box. What a happy guy, huh? I discovered that if you like your oatmeal to taste “beefy,” you only need to pour some hot water over it. You don’t boil it for five minutes. I mean you can, but nobody is going to come in and arrest you if you don’t. For a while I liked it beefy. I also liked it regular. Once I forgot and bought Quick Quaker Oats and discovered I liked them even better. Skim milk and oatmeal. Three times a day. My leg started feeling better. I lost that shortness-of-breath thing. How simple. How easy. On the night before Christmas I sat alone in my apartment and ate my oatmeal with a mashed banana in it. What more could a person want out of life, huh? I felt so good I put on a dark Brooks Brothers suit, a cashmere topcoat, and went to the shopping mall where I lifted three thousand in green. Just wanted to see if I still had the touch. Hah! Back in the saddle again. I even boosted a home cholesterol kit. You stick your finger and put a drop of blood on a strip. Fifteen minutes later I get a reading of 42. Can you believe? I can. I sincerely believe that the regression of arterial plaque is possible even in a brittle diabetic such as myself. When they autopsied Pritikin, his coronary vessels were cleaner than a whistle. Already I have lost thirty pounds over and above the amputated leg. I take righteous dumps twice a day. I sleep like a baby. I’m a happy guy. I’m lifted from my deathbed and restored to acute good health. Sex might even be a possibility. I already tol’ you, I’m sixty-seven years old but now I’m feeling horny again for the first time in years.

Every night after Captain Berg’s Stamp Hour I continued to go into the power shed and feed the spider. She’s my pal, see. I stacked all my empty oatmeal cartons in her direction with the Pilgrim smiling at her. It adds a little color to an otherwise drab decor. Heh heh.

I come out of retirement. I go out and boost on a regular basis now. I don’t need the bread but I like being active. Ain’t you glad to hear of my comeback? I bet you are rightly delighted. I plan on living to be a hundred. For insulin discovery, they gave Dr. Fred Banting the Nobel Prize. To keep guys like me going. Heh heh.