I Hear Ear Worms

Gradual hearing loss brings unexpected blessings: I shall name but two:

  1. An inability to overhear the conversations of strangers.
  2. An inability to hear programmed music in übermarkets.

Spongebob's_brain_in_earworm.

Lisa and I will be sitting at a table within earshot of others and I will be enjoying the still of an enveloping bubble — it’s like a meditation garden, monastery or babbling brook: a way around the babbling of maddening Babel. Couldn’t hear it if I squinted my ears.

Cut to the chase, Bill. Your annoying alliteration and meager metaphors test us to the teeth, they crawl into our craw, they bites our hands, they gnaws our feet.

Privacy without private spaces. Lisa will burst forth with OMGs and WTFFs and I’ve not a single clue to her consternation nor inspiration. By the bye, we’ll be a 25-year item next year, we’re now able to decipher misstated and unintended word misses and annoying affectations. We also assume the identities of avatars: German moose and Italian owl.

raccoonInvitesOwl

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Listen Bill, you are dancing to the tune of thin ice. Life is to be gotten on with, not sallied about in the figments of a forest, feeling the fauna. Get a grip and move on. We sincerely hope you get the help you need. 

Some years ago I packed my ears with sound deadeners to shop without agony. Such is the life of an agoraphobic tree-hugger. When I could hear proper my ear canals became desecrated by ear worms from worn tunes of outrageous decades, looping indefinitely. Gradual hearing loss now permits me to wander the aisles without mulling music lyrics and the likes, dislikes and “likes” of fellow shoppers.

Are you not also one of those annoying people who trundle about with a rücksack on your back, Bill? Do you deny this unfortunate character flaw?

I plead guilty with conviction and with impunity. A backpack permits right and left hands to page-flip a tome, pick up the ultimate stone or dead-head twigs along an arboral path. A pack on the back frees pockets, it supplies the only items necessary for a becoming existence: spare books, blank paper, full pens and what-the-nots.

I live in the land of the frenetic and the home of the Atlanta Braves (Atlanta was once the home of the Cherokee Nation), a left-handed vegan with a name at the tail of the alphabet, a card-carrying member of Jewish Voice for Peace (you do not have to be Judaic to join), a believer in the inalienable rights of all sentient beings and a speaker on the pompetous of love.

I leave this writing moment with a ponder. What reveals the following photograph from Houston Harvey? How might I convey the moment?

cleared.houston.shelves
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Thanks for reading.

 

 

 

Sometimes that Happen

Sometimes you feel like a song, sometimes you don’t.

sometimes

Yahoo Answers received a question five years ago. A query that gnaws at the craw:

I'm looking for a song with the word 'sometimes' as the
first word of the chorus?
Like I said, the chorus starts with the word ‘sometimes’ or ‘sometime’ I think. I know it’s sung by a group (men). I know how the melody goes, but that’s kind of hard to type. I will check every suggestion for possibility.
Update: So far not the song I am looking for. I think the song is from the late 90’s, or early 00’s. And a group of men, definitely sung by more men together.

Let’s try to help that searcher find the group (men)!
Salient points — ‘sometimes .or. sometime‘, group (men), late 90‘s .or. early 00‘s. Surf’s up! Happy searching!
I found a useful website that might provide clues:
earworm
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What if the search term is not the first word of a song? Well, there is help — Song Facts. I just visited Song Facts and discovered the six (6) song titles “Sometimes.”
I write this post in the waning hours of Valentine 2017. Perhaps you’ll find a sometime song that you can warm over for Valentine 2018.
sweetheart-candy-hearts
Excess didn’t end on Super Bowl Sunday. Check the clearance aisle for half-priced red-foil spoil.

everytime

Consider the word “word”. Is  bird a word? Here is an ear worm from 1963 for your viewing and listening measure.
Borrowing again from John Ciardi — Good words to you!
Thanks for reading.