Nobody puts Baby in a corner.
I'm having a Patrick Swayze problem today.
Perhaps it played in the background of a dream. Maybe it was the high winds forcefully thrusting themselves against my windows last night in what seemed like a Nor'easter suicide mission. It could have been lingering pride at my successful stab at the Dirty Dancing movie quiz on Facebook. But I woke up this morning with "She's Like the Wind" in my head and it's been torturing me ever since. Torturing me, and, oddly, lulling me into submission with the syrupy southern lilt of one Johnny "The Reason People Treat Me Like I'm Nothin' Is 'Cause I'm Nothin' " Castle.
I told Kevin that "She's Like the Wind" was putting me in a corner. He asked me if it was the chorus that was slamming my head ("Just a foooooool to belieeeeeeeeve!"), but I told him that it's the line "I look in the mirror / and all I see / is a young old man / with only a dreeeeeeeam" that's looping like a migraine right behind my left eye. Our friend David was with us during this conversation and offered "Mmm-Bop" as a distraction, which made me angry because then I had freakin' "Mmm-Bop" in my head. And then Kevin changed everything:
"You know what I'm singing today? 'Last Christmas' by George Michael. Well, Wham!. That's good, right?"
I paused, thinking. Then I began to bounce. Swayze problem solved.
For the record, "Last Christmas" lasted for eight minutes. And now I'm back to The Swayze. This is not good. The Swayze is like the wind through my tree. Driving me out of my tree. Am I just fooling myself that he'll stop the pain?
See? It does not stop. I go insane.
This has transitioned into another issue, one of Phil Collins proportions. Not long after Kevin provided the Wham! interlude, a conversation about "Against All Odds" segued into the chorus of "Billy Don't Lose My Number" bullying The Swayze out of the top spot in my brain, and I found myself yearning for the wind through my tree again, because the only thing worse than The Swayze's incessant mewing is the bleat of Phil Collins.
So now I'm in hell. All of this has invited every song I've never been able to get out of my head to beat the crap out of each other, gladiator-style, for the glory of being the most annoying tune ever. Currently in the ring is "Sarah" by The Jefferson Airplane (the Danny Zuko to its Kenickie, the nefarious companion "We Built This City") going head to head with "Don't Worry, Be Happy" by Bobby McFerrin. I feel a pummeling about to happen. The whole throwdown is being ref'd by Taco's version of "Puttin' on the Ritz." Fight night takes place in the Love Shack.
Anyway, I don't see why American Gladiators: Shitty Song Edition should end here. Please throw your least-favorite anthems in the ring, and tell me: Are any of them worse than this? (And yes, this travesty has been in my head for a month now. Didn't like her on Top Model, and she's the bane of my existence now. Oy!) You know how it is: Misery loves company.
Perhaps it played in the background of a dream. Maybe it was the high winds forcefully thrusting themselves against my windows last night in what seemed like a Nor'easter suicide mission. It could have been lingering pride at my successful stab at the Dirty Dancing movie quiz on Facebook. But I woke up this morning with "She's Like the Wind" in my head and it's been torturing me ever since. Torturing me, and, oddly, lulling me into submission with the syrupy southern lilt of one Johnny "The Reason People Treat Me Like I'm Nothin' Is 'Cause I'm Nothin' " Castle.
I told Kevin that "She's Like the Wind" was putting me in a corner. He asked me if it was the chorus that was slamming my head ("Just a foooooool to belieeeeeeeeve!"), but I told him that it's the line "I look in the mirror / and all I see / is a young old man / with only a dreeeeeeeam" that's looping like a migraine right behind my left eye. Our friend David was with us during this conversation and offered "Mmm-Bop" as a distraction, which made me angry because then I had freakin' "Mmm-Bop" in my head. And then Kevin changed everything:
"You know what I'm singing today? 'Last Christmas' by George Michael. Well, Wham!. That's good, right?"
I paused, thinking. Then I began to bounce. Swayze problem solved.
For the record, "Last Christmas" lasted for eight minutes. And now I'm back to The Swayze. This is not good. The Swayze is like the wind through my tree. Driving me out of my tree. Am I just fooling myself that he'll stop the pain?
See? It does not stop. I go insane.
This has transitioned into another issue, one of Phil Collins proportions. Not long after Kevin provided the Wham! interlude, a conversation about "Against All Odds" segued into the chorus of "Billy Don't Lose My Number" bullying The Swayze out of the top spot in my brain, and I found myself yearning for the wind through my tree again, because the only thing worse than The Swayze's incessant mewing is the bleat of Phil Collins.
So now I'm in hell. All of this has invited every song I've never been able to get out of my head to beat the crap out of each other, gladiator-style, for the glory of being the most annoying tune ever. Currently in the ring is "Sarah" by The Jefferson Airplane (the Danny Zuko to its Kenickie, the nefarious companion "We Built This City") going head to head with "Don't Worry, Be Happy" by Bobby McFerrin. I feel a pummeling about to happen. The whole throwdown is being ref'd by Taco's version of "Puttin' on the Ritz." Fight night takes place in the Love Shack.
Anyway, I don't see why American Gladiators: Shitty Song Edition should end here. Please throw your least-favorite anthems in the ring, and tell me: Are any of them worse than this? (And yes, this travesty has been in my head for a month now. Didn't like her on Top Model, and she's the bane of my existence now. Oy!) You know how it is: Misery loves company.
Labels: pop culture, work
posted by Marla at 12:42 PM
7 Comments:
on a wagon bound for market, there's a calf with a mournful eye...
Heavens to Betsy, "Dona Dona"! Amazing! YOU, my friend, went to Tamarack, yes? This is bringing me much joy.
In my head right now? "Don't Forget Me When I'm Gone" by Glass Tiger, featuring backup vocals by Bryan Adams. Don't ask. This is the kind of day it's been.
Last time I was afflicted, it was just ONE repeating phrase. I was walking the creeks and streams of central Oregon in deep concentration, accompanied by, "Can't touch this / Neee, nee nee ne / Nee, ne / Nee, ne". Repeat, repeat...
Miss you MG, especially this time of year! Have a great season. - WAM
First off, "Sara" was by Starship, the horrifyingly awful evil spawn of Jefferson Airplane (not really sure how the band that sang "Somebody to Love" evolved into the same one that did "We Built This City." Grace Slick obviously had some debts to pay off).
Second, hmm...more bad songs. Anything by Ace of Base. "Rock Me Amadeus" by Falco rings a sickening bell. Someone once told me "La Isla Bonita" by Madonna was her favorite song.
And don't forget "Rico Suave" by Gerardo.
Warren, I love that MC Hammer was with you in spirit in the wilds of Oregon. Because really, why wouldn't he be? As annoying as he may have been during such a beautiful hike, at least it wasn't something that truly did not fit the situation, like "Cars" by Gary Numan. It could be a great song, but it's not one you want running through your head while you're exploring the beauty of Oregon.
(I miss you too! I'll get in touch soon, and have a very exceptional Christmas. Oy, I miss you!)
Sarene, while your assessment of Starship is, indeed correct, I have, since sixth grade, completely ignored the actual name of Starship because the hell they hath wrought. I was all, "Stop changing your band name, and stop acting like changing your band name is going to distance you from the fact that you're making crappy music." They can change the lineup all they want; it's still essentially the same idea but with execution that was far worse the second (and third, and fourth ...) time around. So the Airplane was definitely intentional. Starship, they do not exist to me. Feh.
I guess I'm lucky that songs by the bands you mentioned have never been stuck in my head like "She's Like the Wind" has been. Perhaps my brain has a filtering device for truly, exceptionally horrendous music (don't get me started on Ace of Base and its equally vomitous companion-in-my-head, Roxette). Gerardo came and went as far as my inner-brain radio is concerned; "Rico Suave" never stuck, though I sort of have an appreciation for him because he was in "Can't Buy Me Love." (I admit, I do love Falco. I was sad when he died. "Rock Me Amadaeus" was, to me, '80s awesomeness.)
"La Isla Bonita" totally sucks. The Madonna song that has always gotten stuck in my head, though? "Frozen." I never minded that one.
frozen? hello...borderline, anyone?
I was going to comment on how the picture of you giving the bird to Tyra is the best ever, but now I am caught up in this bad songs in your head discussion. I am a bit embarrassed to admit that in the shower this morning, I Think We're Alone Now by Tiffany came into my head out of nowhere. I was actually kind of grateful though, because I'd woken up disturbed that somebody was yelling "Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner!" in my dream last night.
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