Like all physicians, I make a living taking money from the sick. I started out as a psychiatrist, taking money from the mentally ill, but that was just wrong. So I called my dad, he said I told you not to go into psychiatry, he made a call, got me into Harvard, and I did a fellowship in forensic psychiatry. Problem was it turned out I liked the mentally ill a whole lot more than I liked attorneys. I called my dad, told him that the difference between an attorney and a bucket of poop was the bucket, and my dad said in that case, to go ahead and marry my mistress. So I became a diet doctor. You see, I grew up in a family of health food nuts. My grandfather grew soybeans in the basement and talked to Adele Davis and Max Warmbrand (go ahead and Google em), pioneers of the American health food movement. My mom fed us whole wheat bread, skim milk and granola, while the neighbor kids ate Wonder Bread, whole milk and Twinkies. I’ve always been fascinated by the observation that many overweight people don’t eat appreciably more than skinny folk. There’s a real metabolic component to body weight.