Dedicated to lcohen

[rsc]

On my way home from a doctor's appointment, I distantly heard a fragment of conversation -- probably no more than a syllable and a half -- which contained something that sounded something like "fay", which triggered the synapse in my brain where the string "O foolish fay" is stored. Whereupon I was irresistibly forced -- forced, I tell you -- to spend the next several minutes of my walk singing, in its entirety, the Fairy Queen's song from the second act of Iolanthe. Well, I have never denied that my brain is a strange place.

I dedicate this post to lcohen because, now that neither my mother nor her sister are around, she is the only other person of my acquaintance to whom I can imagine this happening.

Comments

[lcohen]

not that song (missed me!) but that sort of thing? oh yeah, constantly.

[rsc.livejournal.com]

I knew it was possible that the specific song would miss you, but I also knew you'd understand.

[jss]

If I'd seen or heard Iolanthe more recently than 15 years ago, you might've caught me with the earworm.

[trawnapanda.livejournal.com]

I would.

You missed me with that particular earworm, but the ricochet landed not far away: O Chancellor unwary / it's highly necessary / your tongue to teach / respectful speech / your attitude....

damn you

[hickbear.livejournal.com]

Well, then, how's about the Drag Queen version of "Jolene" by the one and only Dolly?

[trawnapanda.livejournal.com]

ah, now earworms are all about your own mental associations; some so strong they trigger endless loops.

when someone mentions "Jolene" to yr panda, my immediate mental image has nothing to do with the faaabulous Dolly, but rather a tortoiseshell moggy who has been bossing my friend Don around for many years. she's a rather senior pussycat by now, is Jolene, but rules the house with an iron paw.

[rsc.livejournal.com]

In any case, the point of my post is not about earworms per se, which are kind of old news in my corner of the universe, but that the trigger resulted in my singing aloud (although, in this case, not very loud).

[trawnapanda.livejournal.com]

it's thread drift!

with a repetitive sound-track!

[hickbear.livejournal.com]

Hehehe. The only male grandchild-with-the-family-name on the Howard side of the family had the name only because he was a *gasp*pearlclutch* "love child" produced back in the late 30's. Regardless, I believe all other lines ended in girls, so it was up to Joel to Keep The Name Alive.

Joel and Roberta's oldest child was a girl they named Lisa. Roberta's second pregnancy had all the Classic Family Hallmarks - from both Roberta's family as well as Joel's - that Roberta was pregnant with a boy. And a boy was going to be named Joel, Jr. And since it just had to be a boy, there was no need to pick out a girl's name.

Obviously, my quite-butch-and-quite-straight cousin was born with a vagina. Her name is - baDUMdum - Joelene, since the parents did the Name HER NOW thing and were very unoriginal. She was born about a year before Dolly first released this song. The poor dear has been living down her name, ever since.

The closest to carrying on that branch's name is, um, me with my middle name. Whoops.

There goes an entire limb of the family tree, starting with my great-grandfather, *poof*(ster).

[trawnapanda.livejournal.com]

The closest to carrying on that branch's name is, um, me with my middle name. Whoops.

[wide-eyed disingenuous look]

YOUR middle name is Jolene?

no WONDER you turned out to be a Big Ol' Homo!

[/wide-eyed disingenuous look]

[hickbear.livejournal.com]

Not quite. Howard, dear, Howard. My great-grandfather Howard's "limb" ends with, of all people, moi.

The likeliest reason I'm a Big Ol' Homo is the fact that my full name is Michael Howard Reaser, where my great-grandfather Howard and my great-grandfather Reaser were, themselves, first cousins (once removed). Remember, I am almost every West Virginia Stereotype one could try to find - bald, fat, inbred, homo, etc. - all wrapped up in one quick, easy and tidy package.

[cobrawoman.livejournal.com]

Me too, except that I didn't ricochet. Having seen those three words
I was right there.

I'll be tripping hither and thither the rest of the day, I'm afraid.

[trawnapanda.livejournal.com]

oh dear. how distressing to be forced - forced - into an activity, nobody knowing why or whither.

may I offer a potential antidote?

Twas on a Monday morning that the gas man came to call
I couldn't turn the tap, I wasn't getting gas at all,
he ripped up all the skirting-boards to try and find the main
and I had to call the carpenter to put them back again

. . . and it all makes work for the working man to do

better now? or at least, distracted now?

[working men are MUCH butcher than fairies. really.]

[hickbear.livejournal.com]

Not so much lyrics, but melodies. I'll subconsciously hear something, and then it's the Earworm Du Jour. The ones that go on a 4-bar endless loop are the absolute worst...