A Salt and Battery

I love Mayor Bloomberg, except for his meshugene health crusades that threaten to end with yummy NY food as we know it. Now he has decided to curtail the use of salt in restaurants. Enough already.
If this mandate goes only for chain fast food places, he may have a point. My few and unfortunate forays into such establishments do prove that some places threaten to turn us all into Lot's wife.
But if he touches Chinatown, I will instigate an armed revolt.
What's with the obsession with overseeing our collective health like an overbearing, puritanical mother? He reminds me of Alex Portnoy's mom, who demanded to check her son's caca to see what chazerai he had eaten (I think I laughed for five days straight when I read Portnoy's Complaint. I laughed so hard I cried, I almost ruptured my spleen, I almost died laughing).
For an unbridled capitalist, who is so much about free enterprise, and a Republican, if I am not mistaken, Bloomie sure butts in too much into our own private affairs with food. Maybe instead of nitpicking like a maniac on food content, if he is so damn worried about our health, he could institute social medicine programs for all in New York City. Or at least more phys ed at schools. Free yoga in the parks. Ban cars and force everybody to bike.
Let him eat without salt and fat -- but why ruin it for the rest of us?
Somewhere around the 70's some genius decided that salt was bad for you; now another genius has decided that it's not so bad after all. I ain't no rocket scientist but I've always known salt is very good for me. I have excellent blood pressure despite the fact that I sprinkle it liberally on everything. Life without salt is insipid, and according to the new genius, mildly depressing.
Hey, I'll bring my own salt shaker if I have to.