This week, resident foodie David Blanks laments the fat-inducing festive period but is ready to make a change. Get your guitars out and strum along…
Every year it’s the same cycle. Christmas, New Year’s, party, party, party, binge, binge, binge . . . and then, the inevitable resolutions. These too are always the same: drink less, smoke less, eat less. Fuckety fuck fuck fuck. A waist is a terrible thing to mind.
Like you, I love food, but love is a complicated emotion. There is the initial attraction, the curiosity, a growing passion. Then you get hooked, irresponsibly. You do it over and over again, whenever you can, wherever you can, without stopping, without protection. You just don’t care.
It might be fast food. Cheap, quick and easy. A one night stand with a pizza that turns into a week of waiting by the phone counting the minutes until she shows up at your door. Or a quickie with a cupcake that becomes an irresistible obsession.
It might be something long-lasting and far more sinister—a romance with a creamy risotto, a tryst with a tarte tatin, a heavy date with a reckless cheese cake, or an illicit meeting with an imported sausage followed by breakfast in bed. ‘Tis the season you know. It happens to the best of us.
But then comes the reckoning.
In an effort to strengthen my resolve this year, to help me stick to my resolutions, I wrote a song about our affairs with food. Hunger, you bitch. The idea here is to confront the craving head on. Perhaps you can relate. It goes something like this ….
Now and then I think of when we were together,
Like when you said you felt so happy you could die,
Told myself that you were right for me,
But felt so lonely in your company,
But that was love and it’s an ache I still remember.
You can get addicted to a certain kind of fatness,
Like resignation to the end, always the end,
So when we found that we could not make sense,
Well, you said that we would still be friends,
But I’ll admit I was glad it was over.
There are always regrets, you see. No matter how fun it is, no matter how deep the yearning, sooner or later tastes change, needs change, you get bored, you start to hate your life. And starting a new diet is never fun. You end up missing your favorite foods so bad that you wind up in a fetal position in the corner of a dark room.
But you didn’t have to cut me off,
Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing,
And I don’t even need your love,
But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough
. . . . .
I guess that I don’t need that though,
Now you’re just some burger that I used to know.
Weeks later, at the gym, hopefully, you’re getting better. Your self-discipline has kicked in and you’re beginning to regain your confidence. But working out is dull and after a half hour on the treadmill, your mind begins to play tricks on you; you try to resist but the memories come flooding in.
Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over,
But had me believing it was always something I’d done,
But I don’t wanna live that way,
Don’t wanna want you every day,
I thought that I could let it go,
But I’m hung up on some burger that I used to know!
(I used to know)
(Now you’re just some burger that I used to know)
Pretty cool, huh? Now, if only I could write some music to go along with my lyrics. And maybe make a video, a viral New Year’s diet resolution video. I’m thinking about opening it with some random skinny guy standing naked in front of a white background. For motivation.