U.S. govt calls for end to dairy weight loss ads
Fri May 11, 2007 9:24 PM ET
WASHINGTON (Reuters) - U.S. dairy producers will have to stop pitching the idea that drinking more milk spurs weight loss, the Federal Trade Commission told a physician's advocacy group in a letter made public on Friday.

Calling it a "victory for consumers", the Physicians for Responsible Medicine said two national dairy advertising campaigns overseen by the U.S. Department of Agriculture will stop claiming that dairy products cause weight loss because "such claims are not supported by existing scientific research."

Greg Miller, senior vice president for the National Dairy Council, said the industry stands "behind our weight loss messages and the science supporting those messages."

But Miller said that at the request of USDA, the industry would shift its messages "to emphasize the role of dairy in weight maintenance" instead of weight loss.

USDA could not be immediately reached for comment on the FTC letter.

The doctors' organization cited a May 3 letter from FTC, which told the group that following discussions with the U.S. Department of Agriculture, it would "discontinue all advertising and other marketing activities involving weight loss claims until further research provides stronger more conclusive evidence of an association between dairy consumption and weight loss."

In its April 2005 petition to the FTC, the advocacy group charged that the dairy industry was misleading the public with its high profile, celebrity-filled marketing campaign that suggested consuming milk and other dairy products helped consumers lose weight.

"Milk and cheese are more likely to pack on pounds than help people slim down," said Dan Kinburn, PCRM's general counsel. "This case calls into question other advertising claims made by the industry, especially the notion that milk builds strong bones. Evidence shows it does nothing of the kind."
BC

http://hk.promo.yahoo.com/movie/superman/Stop_Press_Game/
pretty fun lil site! BC

Babs Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small
boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising
a basket of freshly picked green peas.

I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green
peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the
peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller and
the ragged boy next to me.

"Hello Barry, how are you today?"

"H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. Sure look
good."

"They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"

"Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."

"Good. Anything I can help you with?"

"No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."

"Would you like to take some home?"

"No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."

"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"

"All I got's my prize marble here."

"Is that right? Let me see it."

"Here 'tis. She's a dandy."

"I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go
for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?"

"Not zackley. but almost."

"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this
way let me look at that red marble."

"Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller."

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a
smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our community, all
three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them
for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever.

When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides
he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of
produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps."

I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time
later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, the
boys, and their bartering.

Several years went by, each more rapid that the previous one. Just
recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community
and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having
his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to
accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the
relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.

Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and
the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts ... all very
professional looking.

They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her
husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the
cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket.

Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man
stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in
the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned the
story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes glistening, she
took my hand and led me to the casket.

"Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They
just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. Now, at
last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size....they came
to pay their debt."

"We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided,
"but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho "

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fin gers of her deceased
husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.

Moral: We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds.

Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take
our breath.

Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles....A fresh pot of coffee you
didn't make yourself. An unexpected phone call from an old friend. Green
stoplights on your way to work. The fastest lin e at the grocery store. A
good sing-along song on the radio. Your keys right where you left them.

Send this to the people you'll never forget. If you don't send it to
anyone, it means you are in too much of a hurry.

BC

Mon May 7, 2007 10:41 AM ET

LONDON (Reuters) - A British man who went on a wild spending spree after doctors said he only had a short time to live wants compensation because the diagnosis was wrong and he is now healthy -- but broke.

John Brandrick, 62, was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer two years ago and told that he would probably die within a year.

He quit his job, sold or gave away nearly all his possessions, stopped paying his mortgage and spent his savings dining out and going on holiday.

Brandrick was left with little more than the black suit, white shirt and red tie that he had planned to be buried in when it emerged a year later that his suspected "tumor" was no more than a non-life threatening inflammation of the pancreas.

"When they tell you you've got a limited time and everything, you do enjoy life," Brandrick, from Cornwall in the west of England, told Sky television.

"I'm really pleased that I've got a second chance in life... but if you haven't got no money after all this, which is my fault -- I spent it all -- they should pay something back."

If he can't get compensation, he is considering selling his house or suing the hospital that diagnosed him. The hospital has said that while it sympathizes with Brandrick, a review of his case showed no different diagnosis would have been made.