Earworms. Infective little parasites. I've mentioned them before in this blog and I'll probably mention them again. One nasty little specimen snuck into my head yesterday and is noodling around trying to convince me it is a holiday song and therefore has every right to turn somersaults though my consciousness. After all, this IS the 4th of July!
It wouldn't be so bad if this was part of the Star-Spangled Banner or a bit of a John Philip Sousa march. Even one of the songs from the musical 1776 or a section of the 1812 Overture that seems to accompany so many fireworks shows. But no, what I have banging back and forth inside my skull is the beginning of the song "Eggbert the Easter Egg". Does anyone except me even recall this childhood (ahem) classic? Probably not. Even I am cursed with only the line:
Eggbert the Easter Egg
Sittin' under Daddy's chair
While the boys and girls
Were looking for him everywhere…
Dum-de-dum? Yeah, even I can't quite remember the words. But this riveting piece of poetry is bopping along in my head and driving me crazy: a misplaced holiday un-classic, courtesy of The Earworm Brigade.