I hate when I get earworms. Not the gross kind that squirm around inside
your body like some kind of backwater infection, but the musical kind.
I think I must dream in
music or something because I often wake up with songs stuck in my head. In the last three days, it has happened to me
twice, and I can’t shake the tunes.
Hence the term “earworms.”
These songs aren’t your
run-of-the-mill, newly-released, top 40 songs, at least not anymore. Okay, maybe never. Today’s earworm is Paul Simon’s “Still Crazy
After All These Years.”
Yup.
And we talked about some old times, and we drank
ourselves some beers. Still crazy after
all these years … I fear I'll
do some damage one fine day. But I would
not be convicted by a jury of my peers - Still crazy after all these years.
I wake up with it running
in my brain over and over and over, sing it on the way to work several times,
and then, like magic, it usually disappears when I leave my car in the parking
lot for the day.
Two days ago it was a
different tune.
Champagne don't
drive me crazy; cocaine don't make me lazy.
Ain't nobody's business but my own.
Candy is dandy and liquor is quicker; you can drink all the liquor down
at Costa Rica. Ain't nobody's business
but my own …
Taj Mahal. Over and over and over and over. I sang it pretty well, too.
I’ve heard this malady
referred to as “earworms” because the tune bores into your skull then worms its
way into your brain. I don’t get
it. I don’t sleep with the radio on at
night. As a matter of fact, any noise
other than the fan drives me bonkers. I
can’t stand the muffled sound of voices in another apartment, music, people
next door having an all-night outdoor party; even the sound of the rain (which
used to be so soothing) aggravates me now.
I can’t get into a deep and restive sleep if there’s noise.
And yet, I can fall asleep
accidentally all the time when I’m immersed in noise. What the hell.
I could blame menopause,
stress, anxiety, and mental illness.
Truth is I cannot shut my brain off.
I suppose it could be worse. At
least if I lose sleep to an earworm, I get some enjoyment out of the tune (for
the most part). Earworms are far, far
more manageable than night sweats from worry, or nightmares about work, or the
true kicker – Dreaming that you’re awake all night and feeling like you’re
awake all night, only to wake up from a fitful sleep and be unable to recall
any sensation whatsoever of actually being asleep.
Last week I had a Carole
King earworm. Today I heard the song
while driving home from work. Earworm
solved.
It wasn’t so easy for
Spongebob, though. Anyone remember
Spongebob from the raising-kiddos days? His
earworm had to be eradicated from his brain, and it followed him everywhere. Maybe I’ll invite Squidward over to help me
out, just like he helped out his burger-flipping buddy. You know, that guy who works with Spongebob
at the Krusty Krab. You know Spongebob
-- He’s the one who lives in a pineapple
under the sea … Absorbent and porous and yellow is he …
Oh. Shit.
Here I go again.
