Another tenet of my argument (see prev. post) is that insurance-supported rehab must be available to food addicts in the same measure as it is for other addictions. I reached that conclusion via experience: I was in the eating disorders unit of a psychiatric hospital in 1991, and it remains a cornerstone of my recovery, which is in its 20th year.

I misunderstood when I heard about this story, or the person telling me about it did. It speaks of a diet, and of course that usually means a temporary change in food regimen, but in this case, the reference to diet is about clothing.

The way it was explained to me, people who'd lost weight had chosen to stick with six garments only until their weight had stabilized, so that they didn't end up with a range of sizes for the long run.

I see now that this makes no sense, but what it recalled for me were the days when I was dropping from 365 to about 200, where I remain today 20 years later. Except for a couple of size 64 sweatpants that I bought (slightly oversized for what I needed) — while I was in rehab, I got rid of every stitch I owned, and eventually disposed of everything I'd bought to replace it on the way down, because that stuff no longer fit, either.

The boomlet in mainstream media attention to the legitimacy of food addiction continues tonight on ABC’s “Nightline” program when its cameras follow Laurie U., a binge eater, into a treatment center devoted to eating disorders and then into her transition homeward afterward.

I will eventually get tired of skewering the skippies over at the "Center for Consumer Freedom," but not just yet. They are the "independent" nonprofit whose funding comes from restaurants and food-products companies.

Their website says they are also funded by thousands of individual consumers, but I don't believe it. I shouldn't say that, not only because it's impolitic, and not only because I have no proof, but because they'll seize on a comment like that, rather than straightforwardly address the very substantive ways in which I contend that they twist facts and truth. My disbelief lies in common sense: Thousands of Americans are donating their money to the people-should-be-able-to-eat-whatever-they-want movement? It that principle in jeopardy? Meanwhile, let's consider the restaurants and food-products people. Does anyone doubt that they would spend their money to advocate for food freedom? They don't need principle to motivate them; their entire future is based on ensuring that nothing ever impedes their sales.

I could go on with all the background bullshit, but let's take a look at their piece of yesterday, March 31, headlined "Waving the white flag on personal responsibility?" which is full of their usual half-baked inanities.

But I want to start with a shout out to my poor addled brothers: I, too, believe in personal responsibility. Even when I was 365 pounds, mired in food addiction, I was completely responsible for what I put in my mouth. Completely.

Georgie and I have been watching, and enjoying, "Men of a Certain Age," the Ray Romano/Andre Braugher/Scott Bakula show on TNT. I think they have three believable characters, none of them perfect by any means, but textured, sympathetic, and believable.

But a plotline in the most recent episode stumbled a bit, on a topic I think worth raising.