Hey, Wait A Minute
It turns out Ted Leo's "Me And Mia" (don't laugh, it's getting airplay on BRU) is about eating disorders. I had no idea; the lyrics sounded obtuse until I sat down and read them. But is the song pro or con? Like eating disorders itself, it's a tricky issue. I'd love insights; you can definitely write me privately if you want. (That's why I put my email address at the top of the screen.) I know there are certain blog readers who will have insights when they get back from Newport this weekend, for example. Great song too.
As I was walking through a life one morning
the sun was out, the air was warm, but
Oh, I was cold
And though I must have looked half a person,
to tell the tale, in my own version,
It was only then that I felt whole
But do you believe in something beautiful?
Then get up and be it
Fighting for the smallest goal: to get a little self-contol
I know how hard you try. I see it in your eyes
But call your friends, 'cause we've forgotten what it's like to eat what's rotten
And what's eating you alive might help you to survive.
We went on as we were on a mission, latest in a Grand Tradition
And oh, what did we find?
It was Ego who was flying the banner, and me and Mia, Ann and Ana
Oh, we'd been unkind
But do you believe in something beautiful?
Then get up and be it
Fighting for the smallest goal: to get a little self-control
I see it in your eyes, I see it in your spine.
But call your friends,
'cause we've forgotten what it's like to eat what's rotten
And what's eating you alive, might help you to survive.
And even the nights, they could get better
And even the days ain't all that bad
And after a week of fighting, as more and more it seems the right thing
But do you believe in something beautiful?
Then get up and be it
Fighting for the smallest goal: to gain a little self-control
Won't anybody here just let you disappear?
Not doctors, nor your mom nor dad, but me and Mia, Ann and Ana
Know how hard you try. Don't you see it in my eyes?
Sick to death of my dependence, fighting food to find transcendence
Fighting to survive, more dead but more alive
Cigarettes and speed to live, and sleeping pills to feel forgiven
All that you contrive, and all that you're deprived
All the bourgeois social angels telling you you've got to change
Don't have any idea. They'll never see so clear.
But don't forget what it really means to hunger strike
when you don't really need to
Some are dying for a cause, but that don't make it yours.
And even the nights, they can get better.