I want to tell you a story about a long-time friend of my parents. I will refer to him as Joe. They have known each other for many decades. Practically grew up together. He’s in his eighties now. He has survived lots of health crises, including many years of respiratory problems, Type 2 Diabetes, and triple bypass surgery. Several years ago, my family was visiting with his family. We had a wonderful time all together. We ate out at different restaurants a few times. And Joe loved a good meal. Time and again, he ordered truly, decadent meals: grilled cheese done to perfection for lunch. Deep fried chicken for dinner. Lasagna another night. For breakfast he ordered gooey cinnamon buns heaping with cream-cheese icing. And when he got the most amazing donuts for us all, and then ate half the box, followed later by cheese fries, I finally felt the need to say something to good old Joe. “Hey, Joe,” I...