Song Meaning
Jonathan Edwards' "How About You" isn't a saccharine sympathy card; it's a barbed-wire empathy exercise disguised as a folk tune. The song flips the script on pity, questioning our impulse to feel sorry for those with obvious physical challenges. Edwards cleverly suggests that true blindness isn't necessarily a lack of sight, but a lack of vision; a soul unable to take flight, regardless of physical prowess. The lyrics imply that those who appear disadvantaged may, in fact, possess a resilience and inner freedom that the outwardly 'able' often lack. It's a challenge to our assumptions, a lyrical judo move that throws our comfortable notions of disadvantage back in our faces. The song's core message resonates with the psychological concept of 'learned helplessness,' where individuals, despite having the capacity to change their circumstances, believe they are powerless to do so.
The repeated query, "He's alright, makin' do / He's doing fine, how 'bout you?" is the lyrical dagger. It forces listeners to confront their own internal landscapes. Are we so busy projecting our fears and insecurities onto others that we fail to recognize our own limitations? The song cleverly juxtaposes physical limitations with existential ones. The blind man may be physically blind, but the 'eagle-eyed' individual who 'never see[s] one blessed thing' suffers from a far deeper form of sensory deprivation. Similarly, the lame man's physical instability pales in comparison to the 'racehorse' legs that never find solid ground, symbolizing ambition without purpose.
Edwards reserves his tears not for the visibly challenged, but for the individual 'who's lost but he won't cry out / And he might have a voice like an angel / And nothing to sing about.' This speaks to the quiet suffering, the voiceless despair that often goes unnoticed beneath a veneer of normalcy. It's a poignant reminder that true suffering isn't always visible; it often hides in plain sight, masked by a forced smile or a carefully constructed facade. The song's lasting power lies in its ability to prick our conscience, urging us to look beyond the surface and confront the more insidious forms of human suffering – the kind that festers in silence and self-denial.