We all love to hear about miracle solutions and wonder drugs but we all (or most of us) are pretty cynical. The words “snake oil” sometimes are whispered. 
This one sounds promising, though (although I offer no guarantees). Brown University in Rhode Island has a research program funded through a government/university/community partnership; it’s called the Superfund Research Program and it seeks to redress some of the extensive environmental contamination inflicted on the state by industry in past centuries.

What’s the point of writing about white bread in this glorious summer season of corn and tomatoes and melons and cucumbers and eggplant and on and on?
I’ve been feeling guilty about my consumption levels of white bread and I’ll tell you why in a moment. 
But first, why am I eating white bread at all, especially when there is so much other good stuff to eat? Part of my guilt process is to seek self justification. I’ve been digging deep and trying to figure out why bread is in fact an important part of my diet.

The common sounds of an office include shuffling paper, the whirring of a printer, your colleague’s pesky cough he can’t seem to shake, and (often) the unmistakable sound of someone cracking knuckles. 
That someone might very well be me.
The increasing pressure on my knuckles throughout the day melts away after a sudden “pop.”

Almost any memorable summer comes with a party, a picnic or some other form of get-together — preferably on a beach, by an ocean or by a lake. 
For me, it’s lakes all the way. I don’t like sand; seaweed is the bane of my mortal existence on this planet; and I would rather be fed to sharks than sit in the car, all sticky from salt water, and drive home two hours from the beach back to my land-locked house in the middle of West Hartford.