“Pop singer Karen Carpenter died this morning from complications of anorexia nervosa,” said the perfectly made-up anchorwoman on KTLA while I sat at the table eating my Raisin Bran.

It was one of those bright Southern California mornings in 1983. There’s something jarring about hearing awful news in a chipper tone of voice when the sun is out and a new day is starting. Of course I was sad to hear about Karen’s death; she was that nice lady with the prettiest voice in the world who sang “the Sesame Street song.”

I fear we’re watching a replay of what happened in the 1970s and ’80s, when anorexia nervosa spread rapidly through the culture.

Sing of good things, not bad

Sing of happy, not sad

A voice from God

It wasn’t until many years later that I felt a deeper sadness and loss when I c

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