Starvation Palace…part 2

“Eat. Don’t lose any more weight. You skinny bones.”

Those harsh but loving words came from Jackie’s sweet lips to my floppy ears as we prepared for our nearly four-hour trip to the Optimum Health Institute.

Fifteen minutes from the heart of San Diego, OHI is the last bastion of greenery in a god-forsaken hodge-podge of garbage trucks, big box outlets, and 99 Cents stores. The single-family homes on Central Avenue verge on extinction, yet command stratospheric prices in this overheated real estate market.

Once caring for mental patients, the buildings on the OHI campus have been converted to housing those who seek rest, a spiritual mantra, the elimination of poor dietary habits, and a cleansing of every crack and crevice in your body, abetted by daily colonics.

The rooms are a cut above those found in a Dickens’ orphanage. A bed, dresser, small desk, and a comfy stuffed chair round out the opulent furnishings. Ventilation is provided by the Motel 6 variety of appliance, generating adequate cooling and heating if you can stand the noise.

Two sides of the complex are exposed to unending freeway noise. The other two sides provide entertainment for  maniacal Central Avenue hotrodders who were not paid enough attention to while in the reformatory, and the barking family dog who sounds like he wants to eat, preferably something human.

To maintain the pristine nature of the complex while Covid runs amuck, the institute frowns on anyone leaving the premises during confinement. Periodic spit tests assure the guests of the purity of the other campers. Gates keep people out but can be easily breeched upon entry if one can pass the famous ten questions beginning with “Have you…”. Forehead temperature is taken with a device that Fox News says may inject a microchip in your frontal lobe.

Hiking trails are foreign to this environment. Daily exercise may be had on campus, but Jackie prefers 24 Hour Fitness a mile from it. Not to miss the exhilaration of a daily hike, a brisk walk beginning on Central Avenue substitutes for the real thing. Alternating between cracked concrete, no concrete and asphalt in need of sealcoating, we parade in front of the homes and their blood-thirsty dogs, make a left on Massachusetts Avenue avoiding drivers who never heard of California’s pedestrian rights, and end the first leg of our trip at Walgreens.

 The presence of Walgreens, CVS and Rite-Aid only 500 feet apart attests to the power of the drug cartel and its influence on our daily lives. Chevron, Shell and a No-Name gas station wave flags announcing budget busting per-gallon prices that once were per-tank prices.  McDonalds, Taco Bell, and Chic Filet provide everything else needed for a happy, healthy existence.

We shade our eyes to avoid the temptation of El Pollo Loco and continue our loopy hike up Central Avenue. We arrive back at the OHI gates where Andrew dutifully takes our temperature to be sure we have not acquired the dreaded virus in the sixty minutes since our departure from the campus.

Food occupies much of our thoughts and our conversations with other deprived souls throughout the day. A detox diet that Mother Theresa would be proud of is designed to eliminate the nasties that have taken up residence in the dark shadows of our gut. Stimulants, fats, flour, sugar, and salt are banished for the duration of our visit. Oils are unseen except in the form of an occasional sliver of blessed avocado.

Raw vegetables are plentiful and plainly identifiable on our plate. Other raw vegetables are occasionally disguised as something else (like Kosher bacon) but always fail the taste test. Cooked foods are shunned as anything heated over 105 degrees is declared dead and of little use in delivering vital nutrients.

The affable kitchen staff enjoys a respite during the middle three days of our visit, as our nutrition is solely vegetable juice. Unfortunately, the variety of these juices is limited to green or red. Of course, you can mix the two and produce one that is sort of brown. I’m particularly fond of doing this since it reminds me of my mother who used to mix red and green Jello to produce an interesting dessert.

A cornucopia of spices is available to flavor our juice but except for cayenne powder seem to have little effect on taste. We can have as much juice as we want. A cucumber slice or one cherry tomato often garnishes each serving. Having several glasses can leave the impression that you’ve had a salad. I particularly like the cherry tomato option since it reminds me of the martini stuffed olives that I have sacrificed on the detox altar.

Being somewhat emaciated, I can’t afford to lose weight while prancing around OHI. As a result, I augment the detox regimen with bananas and organic peanut butter purchased clandestinely at the nearby Sprouts grocery. Without this dietary supplement, I’d soon look like Alec Guinness emerging from the Japanese confinement shed in The Bridge Over the River Kwai. I feel guilty doing this but my death from starvation at OHI would surely put a crimp in their public relations program.

When I’m not eating, I attend classes about eating as though this will fill my belly. I really like the one on fermented foods, like sauerkraut and dill pickles. It offers a glimpse of the world of microbes running wild in my gut. Living inside every person are trillions of microorganisms — bacteria, viruses, fungi, and other life forms. And eating sauerkraut keeps them carefree and happy as they munch their way through my colon.

And speaking of colons… OHI’s detox arsenal includes optional colonics. Those of us who were members of the Mickey Mouse Club and watched The $64,000 Question, probably remember that brown rubber bag and hose hanging on a hook on your parents’ bathroom door. That enema of old has been replaced by a more high-tech version with the same objective, complete with an infusion of wheat grass juice. What?

So, I bet you’re wondering, “Why does he spend a week at OHI when he could be anywhere else?”

You might also ask why he’s done it six times.

Or why he’s thinking about doing it again?

And I’d say, “Good question.”