Tag: vegetables

MAY 3, 1840: JIMMY’S LITTLE LETTUCE PILLS

Posted on by Richard Daybell

James Morison was a British merchant turned physician who died on May 3, 1840, at the ripe old age of 70 after suffering through a mid-life crisis of intolerable pain which he cured by magic little pills of his own devising. Thanks to his little pills created from flora and their miracle cure, he became throughout his later life a notorious advocate of “vegetable medicines.”

Although many of his peers considered him a bit of a quack, he came to his calling in a fairly honorable way; having tried every known cure for his maladies in vain, he devised the vegetable pills and found them to be “the only rational purifiers of the blood.”

He became, at age 50, a new man. He regained his youthfulness; his pains were gone; he enjoyed sound sleep and high spirits. In short, he was healthy, fearing neither heat nor cold, dryness nor humidity.  And all because of his dear little pills and a morning glass of lemonade.  Would it have been fair for him to keep this medical miracle to himself? Wasn’t he morally bound to spread this blessing among his fellow creatures? Of courses he was. And what if he profited handsomely from his doing so? One can grow wealthy arcimboldowith a much clearer conscience peddling carrots and turnip pills than peddling many other things.

He established a vegetable pill emporium with the rather lofty title of  British College of Health, retired to the south of France where he remained healthy, wealthy and wise until his 1840 death.  His work led to the later discovery of the powers of penicillin taken with a glass of lemonade.

arcimboldo

“The Vegetable Gardener” by Giuseppe Arcimbaldo

Vegetables are interesting but lack a sense of purpose when unaccompanied by a good cut of meat. — Fran Lebowitz

MAY 3, 1840: JIMMY’S LITTLE LETTUCE PILLS

Posted on by Richard Daybell

James Morison was a British merchant turned physician who died on May 3, 1840, at the ripe old age of 70 after suffering through a mid-life crisis of intolerable pain which he cured by magic little pills of his own devising. Thanks to his little pills created from flora and their miracle cure, he became throughout his later life a notorious advocate of “vegetable medicines.”

Although many of his peers considered him a bit of a quack, he came to his calling in a fairly honorable way; having tried every known cure for his maladies in vain, he devised the vegetable pills and found them to be “the only rational purifiers of the blood.”

He became, at age 50, a new man. He regained his youthfulness; his pains were gone; he enjoyed sound sleep and high spirits. In short, he was healthy, fearing neither heat nor cold, dryness nor humidity.  And all because of his dear little pills and a morning glass of lemonade.  Would it have been fair for him to keep this medical miracle to himself? Wasn’t he morally bound to spread this blessing among his fellow creatures? Of courses he was. And what if he profited handsomely from his doing so? One can grow wealthy arcimboldowith a much clearer conscience peddling carrots and turnip pills than peddling many other things.

He established a vegetable pill emporium with the rather lofty title of  British College of Health, retired to the south of France where he remained healthy, wealthy and wise until his 1840 death.  His work led to the later discovery of the powers of penicillin taken with a glass of lemonade.

arcimboldo

“The Vegetable Gardener” by Giuseppe Arcimbaldo

Vegetables are interesting but lack a sense of purpose when unaccompanied by a good cut of meat. — Fran Lebowitz

APRIL 18, 1968: IF YOU BELIEVE THIS, I’VE GOT A BRIDGE . . .

Posted on by Richard Daybell

Famous real estate deals abound — the sale of Manhattan for beads, the Louisiana Purchase, Seward’s Folly. One of the more unusual is the April 18, 1968, sale of London Bridge for a mere $1 million (of course, as any schoolchild knows, the thing was falling down). American oil sphinx_magnate Robert McCullough was the buyer and he bought it as a large conversation piece for his Arizona real estate development in an out-of-the-way spot that had previously only been an inspiration for Roadrunner cartoons.  The bridge was disassembled in London, each piece numbered, then hauled to Lake Havasu City, Arizona, where it was reassembled.

McCullough had wanted to buy the Brooklyn Bridge for his project, but it had already been sold. Many times, actually. One George Parker had made his living selling the bridge to oil magnates and other naive visitors to New York, some of whom actually tried to erect toll booths.

The relocation of London Bridge inspired, in addition to a great deal of laughter, a forgettable 1985 made-for-television movie Bridge Across Time (aka Arizona Ripper or Terror at London Bridge) in which several murders are committed in Lake Havasu by the spirit of Jack the Ripper, whose soul is transported to the United States in one of the stones of the bridge (sorry you missed it, aren’t you).

Although the Sphinx may have been more architecturally appropriate to the location, McCullough wasn’t interested. “Something about the nose,” he said.

Legumes in Love

British poet and physician Erasmus Darwin died on April 18, 1802.  As a physician graduated from Cambridge, he didn’t really distinguish himself. When he is remembered at all, it is for his poetry, and one particular poem, The Loves of the Plants, part of a larger work called The Botanic Garden (the other part being The Economy of Vegetation), in which the physiology and classification of the vegetable world is presented in a rather lofty and lyrical manner. Although the subject was mundane and the technical accuracy questionable, the poetic frenzy reached amazing heights. Had Erasmus Darwin’s grandson Charles presented his discoveries in a more poetic fashion, perhaps they would have been more warmly received.

APRIL 18, 1968: IF YOU BELIEVE THIS, I’VE GOT A BRIDGE . . .

Posted on by Richard Daybell

Famous real estate deals abound — the sale of Manhattan for beads, the Louisiana Purchase, Seward’s Folly. One of the more unusual is the April 18, 1968, sale of London Bridge for a mere $1 million (of course, as any schoolchild knows, the thing was falling down). American oil sphinx_magnate Robert McCullough was the buyer and he bought it as a large conversation piece for his Arizona real estate development in an out-of-the-way spot that had previously only been an inspiration for Roadrunner cartoons.  The bridge was disassembled in London, each piece numbered, then hauled to Lake Havasu City, Arizona, where it was reassembled.

McCullough had wanted to buy the Brooklyn Bridge for his project, but it had already been sold. Many times, actually. One George Parker had made his living selling the bridge to oil magnates and other naive visitors to New York, some of whom actually tried to erect toll booths.

The relocation of London Bridge inspired, in addition to a great deal of laughter, a forgettable 1985 made-for-television movie Bridge Across Time (aka Arizona Ripper or Terror at London Bridge) in which several murders are committed in Lake Havasu by the spirit of Jack the Ripper, whose soul is transported to the United States in one of the stones of the bridge (sorry you missed it, aren’t you).

Although the Sphinx may have been more architecturally appropriate to the location, McCullough wasn’t interested. “Something about the nose,” he said.

Legumes in Love

British poet and physician Erasmus Darwin died on April 18, 1802.  As a physician graduated from Cambridge, he didn’t really distinguish himself. When he is remembered at all, it is for his poetry, and one particular poem, The Loves of the Plants, part of a larger work called The Botanic Garden (the other part being The Economy of Vegetation), in which the physiology and classification of the vegetable world is presented in a rather lofty and lyrical manner. Although the subject was mundane and the technical accuracy questionable, the poetic frenzy reached amazing heights. Had Erasmus Darwin’s grandson Charles presented his discoveries in a more poetic fashion, perhaps they would have been more warmly received.