Survey Says . . !

  R   emember that goofy game show Family Feud with that British guy who used to be on Hogan's Heroes? You don't? Lucky you! You still have time to repent, reset and renew!

Results from Day One: Phase III:

Not much. On the scale, I lost nine pounds in one week. I went from 160.7 lbs. To 151.0 lbs.

That's more than one pound a day. I don't know quite what to make of it, but Brigitte says it's unhealthy. "You look sick!" she said. "I don't like you when you lose weight!"

Well, as you all know, I'm not in this to lose weight; it's obviously what The Biome wants, for whatever reasons best left to them, now that a new regime is in town.

Here is roughly how my day went (remember, this is the day that I quit quitting sugar, dairy and wheat, while downing 50-billion-strong bacteria pills and strong foods for all of them):

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I MADE MY COFFEE with a teaspoon of unpasteurized eucalyptus honey and a couple of tablespoons of fresh goat's milk from a glass bottle. It was unexpectedly delicious.

My biome cheered.

For my midmorning snack, I piled two shrimp into a tiny bowl and heaped some self-invented ginger-soy-habanero dressing on it. I chased it with chilled San Pellegrino water garnished with lemon and strawberries. But before all that, I ingested 50 billion bacteria in a probiotic pill.

My biome cheered.

I then downed all the vitamins for the day, and then mixed up in a small vessel a half-scoop of Prebiotin powder with a couple of tablespoons of fresh Kefir. It was oddly sugarsour, but not unpleasant. I could feel the bacteria squirming on my tongue as they happily vanished down the Magic Slide to their chums in the Biome.

My biome cheered! There were hearty back—err, flagellumslaps all round as they welcomed their strange-looking but happy countrymen into the fold. I can almost see them all, having an immense celebration at the beginning of Phase III! Let's hope they let the viruses, parasites and helminths in to the dance hall. ("Ciliae stamps, please, gentlemen! No crowding, there's good fellows.")

And then I sat back and waited.

Nothing. Nothing happened; my stomach did not explode. My stomach did . . . nothing.

Perhaps everyone is so stunned by their abrupt change in fortune that they've temporarily declared a National Holiday, in imitation of tomorrow's Victoria Day here in Canadica.

But not so fast; this afternoon I went down to the hospital with a thermos of goat's milk latte for Brigitte to sample. "It really smells like goat's milk!" she said, curling her lip. Frankly, I can't smell anything, and the coffee, which I ended up drinking by myself, was spectacular.

But still nothing from the Biome . . . a deafening silence, despite the sudden injection of lactose.

I walked back on a perfect day and stopped off at the Arab grill place to buy some brochettes of chicken for my dinner tonight: whole wheat pita with chicken, red pepper, red onion, garlic, cole slaw cabbage, cilantro and Spring Mix lettuce.

That should give them something to shout about!