Earworm du Jour

Earworms and Humbugs. I’m very susceptible. According to Wiki, earworms are “a portion of a song or other musical material that become ‘stuck’ in a person's ‘head’ or repeats against one's will within one's mind.” I hereby diagnose myself with earworm infestation. It’s insidious! Where are my meds?

This morning while awaiting my calorie, I mean caramel, latte at Lavazza this little ditty came on, and I’ve been hum(bugg)ing it ever since. Please pardon the dumb video, and trust that it’s the least hideous one I could find. I love the vocals of the song. It’s darn catchy. If anyone could have named the band, I would have given you a gold star to stick on your butt, because it’s none other than the Spiral Starecases (sic!). Who? Ezactly. One of them thar one hit wonders. And lord if it isn’t a wonder how it’s gotten stuck in my noodle. Wiki says that "earworms may be songs or tunes that become stuck in the phonological loop.” Loop. Spiral. Coincidence? I think not.

This song brings me way back to those early morning drives to swim practice in the Aerostar tank. Mom, blasting the oldies, shakin' her shoulders happily to the tunes, and pumping the heat. Me, nauseated from said heat pumping and dreading Coach Thompson’s killer set of the day. Good times. Even then I was a real bear in the morning, so mom’s bubbly sing-alongs (pretending to know the lyrics by yelling one word at the end of each sentence) prompted persnickety commentary from the peanut gallery. Mom communicated her displeasure by smacking me on the knee with the plastic brush that lay conveniently in the console between us. Then I’d cry child abuse, and we’d both fall silent (probably laughing on the inside). That brush: primping tool or thinly veiled threat? We’ll never know.

Bless my mum for doing things like driving us to practice at 4 in the morning whilst putting up with a whole lotta crap and ‘tude. I’ll never know how she did it. In fact, I shall dedicate this little song to my mum.