Pork and Beans

August 11, 2009 at 12:22 pm (The Easy Chair) (, , )

I’ve addressed the subject of earworms before. You get a song stuck in your head, and sometimes it goes on for months. Singing (internally, please) the theme to Gilligan’s Island helps, but only for a while.

This summer’s earworm is a Shinedown song, played to death on KUFO. I believe it’s called “The Sound of Madness.” It truly is in my case. The opening notes send me rushing to the radio, but the damage is done. I hear it for the rest of the day, and the chorus is still playing in my head when I wake up the next morning.

The sad part is, my brain tends to rework the lyrics. The part where the guy sings “Take your medicine!” has been overdubbed with “Shave your genitals!” Imagine how maddening it would be to walk around all day having a big little voice in your head shouting “Shave your genitals!” It wouldn’t be funny if it were happening to you…

There have been other major earworms, songs that have been embraced over time. Kid Rock’s Bawitaba (or however the fuck you spell it)
was like that ten years ago. (Ten years? Jesus.) The opening notes would send me running for the radio. Alas, the rest of the day I’d be bopping along, “Ta dang ta dang diggy diggy…” It wasn’t until I heard the live Woodstock version that the song became credible to me. Now I enjoy it when I hear it. I envision burning Honey Buckets and mudbog fights involving Red Hot Chili Peppers.

This isn’t a new phenomenon. It dates back to the mid-’70s, when Manfred Mann’s cover of Blinded by the Light was in heavy rotation. At first I hated, but came to embrace it when I discovered the word “Deuce” sounded like “douche”, thereby sending my mother into censorship mode. After I showed her the printed lyrics she relented, but it was a small victory. I’m the same kid who, using her logic, decided the classic Londonderry Aire was about a British girl’s ass. I got slapped, but she took the point.

Yesterday, I decided to officially name my earworm of the summer. It’s a song that gets stuck in my head, but it is such a pleasant ditty that I don’t mind. Weezer’s Pork and Beans.

I’d much rather be internally humming “I don’t care. I don’t care, I don’t care.” It sounds much nicer than “Shave your genitals!”

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