Insanity Achieved…
Subtitle: More Riddles for Eric…
Maybe it was a short journey from the git-go. Maybe it was simply a fulfillment of genetic destiny. Maybe it was a last-gasp, blood-curdling scream from deep within the tortured soul of a man who gave up smoking and was forced to eat couscous a couple of times. More likely, I’m just wacko. Whatever the trigger, I am deliriously happy to report that after years of trying, edging ever so close on occasion, I have now achieved a state of complete, blissful insanity. Yabba. Dabba. Doo…
Digging back into the stacks and listening to oldies/goodies that were favorites when they were fresh, there is always the danger of one of them becoming the earworm du jour. For those not familiar with that disgusting term, click on the word to see my earlier explanation.
In preparation for the previous post featuring America’s Horse With No Name, I listened to many renditions and covers, as well as several different versions of some other favorites of mine by America. Those include You Can Do Magic, Ventura Highway, and Tin Man.
The problem? Youse wants to know what the problem is? Well, Mr. and Ms. Wiseguy, I’ll tell you what the problem is. The problem is that I now have not one, not two or three, but FOUR OF THESE MOTHERBUMPING EARWORMS ALL PLAYING AT THE SAME FREAKING TIME. And I can’t seem to shut them off. Or even whittle it down to one. Or change the channel to something different. Old Rugged Cross. Tennessee Waltz. Doesn’t matter. Anything. But after a while, the strange mix becomes mine, all mine. It becomes me. I become one with the stream and doo doo doo dit all the way into nirvana and back. Flowing effortlessly over purple fields of candy. Following the sweet birds of youth, chanting and singing the words of the simpleton out by the pond. Smiling into the sunshine with eyes wide shut.
No, Oz never did give nothing to the tin man because he rode a horse with no name down the Ventura highway watching alligator lizards in the air while she repeats over and over you can do magic at the tropic of sir galahad…
La la la la… la la la la.. la la la la… laaaa…
12 Comments so far
… bhwhahaahahah!!!…. that quote about the tin man is classic… it’s at the bottom of my “about me” page!…
Ha.
Try having Roomie sing “You Give Love a Bad Name” to you. That’s what I’d do when the Mrs. had a particularly bad earworm problem. It’d make her mad (she hates the song), but it usually did the trick.
I’ve always heard that humming “Girl From Ipanema” wipes out those nasty earworms. Let me know if it works. (But Old Rugged Cross or Tennessee Waltz ain’t bad - go with those.)
lol and anything that works will become the new problem… that might resemble life
WHOA…you have a massive earworm invasion going on Winston. You need to totally clean house. How you do that without new inhabitants moving in is beyond me. Try listening to something you HATE and wouldn’t possibly want to recall. Good luck wormy….
Arlo Guthrie’s “Alice’s Restaurant” will definitely clear up your problem!
May I suggest… ‘it’s a small world after all, it’s a small world after all, it’s a small, small worllllllllld.’…Don’t hate me. heh.
sending you an mp3, as soon as i can locate your email, that should do the trick.
Oh my, Winston, you do have a problem.
But you sound as if you’ve come to enjoy it, so go with it, take it easy, let the music take you there. Don’t fight it, baby, come with us, we can set you free.
Just quit it! I am highly susceptible to the contagion of earworminess, and now I have some very wrong songs in my ear.
I have the same problem with Eric Clapton’s stuff!
I’m glad I’m not alone.
Multiple earworms, doubtless incurable.