You know what is worse than an earworm? An earworm that you cannot identify. It festers in your brain, wriggling in and out of your thoughts, and you try so hard to ignore not just the tune but the fact that you CAN'T REMEMBER THE DAMN NAME of the song...but you can't.
My brainworm happened when I had to make a quick run to the store today; I was walking quickly to the aisle I needed to get to, minding my own business, thinking over plans etc. for the week, not really listening to but hearing the music being piped over the sound system. Just because I am not really listening doesn't mean some part of my overworked brain isn't busy registering the name of the song, the band, and little facts about either as a small undercurrent to all the other thoughts, though. I hate my brain sometimes.
So it came about that a song came up, and the thought stream for labeling and filing it away probably went something like this (overlaid with five thousand other thoughts), " Oh hey, that's new for this place, they never play them...this was a weird one for them, right...the video was nice...now what was it, oh yeah isn't it from the Tom Hanks' band movie, yeah see, now they're going to sing the line 'that thing you do'...wait, wait, he said, 'I fell into', not that 'thing you do'..WHO is this?...god, I know the voice and I know the video was something funny...and yeah this is not their usual style, but then what is...FUCK who IS this?...wait, when is this from...okay, okay, I saw the video when I was living in CT, I remember that...so mid-nineties?...DAMN IT I know all the lyrics, not that there is a lot of them, but crap, something about the video, there was all this fake smiling...okay, I won't think about it...no, but WHO is this, and crap, now I have both that and 'That Thing You Do' running through my head...hee, the Oh-Nee-Ders, instead of the One-ders...what was the name Jonathan Schaech's character wanted, The Moose Hunters?..no, there was no moose in it, great I'm channeling Palin..."I am Spartacus"...I really wish I could find a coat like the one Liv Tyler wore...'Big me to talk about it...carried on.'...wait what was that I just remembered, something there sounds really familiar, DAMN why can't I remember?...'"
And so on and so forth. Luckily for all involved, the checkout line I stood in had a candy and gum display, otherwise I would have been driving everyone at home nuts trying to remember (of course I was not going to google it. I have no problem looking up things I don't know at all, but I'll be damned if I will look up things I know I know and just can't remember.)
Here.
(Awww, look, there's Pat Smears! I'd totally forgotten about him.)
