Saturday, November 24, 2007

Dr. Schulze, I Presume...

Allow me to introduce you to Dr. Richard Schulze, a botanical pharmacist who approaches healing and overall well-being with herbs. This is a man who believes in natural remedies. A man who snubs western medicine. A man who inadvertently promotes himself in the most obnoxious of ways.

Truth be known, I’m fine with his natural healing mode of thinking. I don’t take a great deal of medication or chemicals for my health. I don’t get the flu shot, I don’t take antibiotics for viral illnesses, and I don’t chew aspirin when I’m out of gum. But I’m no Dr. Schulze. I think if I ever met this man, I would slap him senseless, with herbs falling out of every one of his orifices as I slapped him.

See, his theories on health issues are fine, but he offends me in two ways. The first is his advertising. Any piece of promotional material you receive from Dr. Schulze, be it a brochure, his website, or I imagine even a text message, is written in about 18 different fonts, giving the impression that he is YELLING AT YOU, emphasizing every … single … written … word, or pretending that every other sentence is the key sentence to his theory. This has lead me to believe his personality is very loud and that he believes there is not a whole lot that he doesn’t already know about almost everything.

You may feel that I am unfairly labeling Dr. Schulze, and you may have a point. But the second (and greater) offense is not only a more serious accusation, but I have proof to back me up. Ladies and gentleman, I give you…horrible tasting herbs.

So, I’m thumbing through a catalogue by Dr. Schulze, and despite his YELLING AT ME IN PRINT, or maybe because of it, I decide to take a serious look at a product he calls SuperFood. SuperFood is made up of every vitamin, mineral, and super power a growing man needs. Why, with SuperFood, I was convinced I could take one pill a day, without changing my usual diet of doughnuts, Almond M&Ms, and hamburgers…and be the absolute picture of health. No need to be bogged down with fruits, vegetables, or produce of any kind. Got ‘em all packed into this magnificent little SuperFood pill. I can just dedicate those calories to more delicious intake.

So I called to order SuperFood. And when I called, I got completely suckered into ordering SuperFood in bulk. So a few minutes later, I am into SuperFood just over $100.

“Well,” I tell myself, “isn’t your health worth $100?” And I console myself by imagining the things I’ll be able to do with my newfound strength and vitality that will come from something so wonderful that it says right in the product how super it is.

And then SuperFood arrives. And surprise! It’s not in a pill. It comes in raw powder / grain / grass / stuff. You scoop it into a beverage of your choice, and chug it. I’m already not as thrilled. This looks like a lot more work. I scooped some into some orange juice, mixed it around, looked at it (my first mistake) and threw it down my throat (my second mistake).

Imagine a meadow, somewhere. It’s rained for days, and that meadow is now a swamp. Now visualize, if you will, a heard of buffalo. They have rolled and stepped all over the meadowy, swampy area, infesting it with years of filth that has been in their hair. And now picture one of these buffalo eating some of the filthy, swampy grass, chewing it for hours, digesting it for days, and then dumping it where it sleeps. Now envision Dr. Schulze stumbling upon this heap, combing it with one-part dirt and two-part dried-out sin, and bottling it as SuperFood. I just bought $100 of that stuff.

And I assure you – I am going to take every last grain of it. I paid for it, and I am too stubborn to just throw good money away. EVEN IF IT MEANS I AM JUST CRAZY ENOUGH to consume the nastiest tasting stuff I’ve ever held in my possession.