November 18, 2008 Earworm

Our dog to human ratio skewed on Friday and even with Kmatt here for a visit, we're outnumbered. Granted, the five squeaking pups have enough to worry about just lifting their heads to eat, but their presence has dramatically altered the household, and they are in control. While we bi-peds still have the thumbs and the car keys, departures from the mothership are now carefully considered and even more carefully orchestrated, to the point that the thought of walking out the door is nerve racking.

On the other end of the spectrum, mother is holed up in a makeshift den, heat lamp and whelping box her primary surroundings, removed from any interaction with her own mother, Laney, and from her partner in crime, Mac: it's no longer the dog's life to which she's become accustomed but instinct and duty now rule her roost and she's admirable in commitment to the cause. Her brief breaks from her duties are only for necessities, augmented with a brief run through the house which appears to be an effort to confirm that the world in which she once lived still exists.

But the ones who have it the worst are Laney and Mac. Faced with a rare restriction, they stand outside the gate that guards the helpless and protector, they can only smell the air and strain to hear the cries of the strangers who have invaded their world. Realizing that they the focus has shifted to area which currently has no place for them, they act out in rude ways, demanding the attention that is normally only a palm away.

While preparing for a shower, I encountered Mac, rolling around on the spot I fill in the bed that is normally shared by all, co-mingling our scents, and alternately sighing and crying. Scooping up this 40 pound mound that usually consists of 90% canine bravado, 5% helpless puppy, and 5% indifference, I was rewarded with a rare kiss before he collapsed into fetal position, released a contented sigh, and drifted off to where ever he goes when receiving a heartfelt belly rub.

And that's why I've been singing Sinead O'Connor's "I Want Your (Hands On Me)" all morning.

November 12, 2008 Earworm

With all this Angels stuff going around my head, it was only a matter of time that Bobby Vee would rear his well-coiffed head via "Walkin' With My Angel". Bless his heart, he starts off trying to sound his butch best, even working up a nice little growl. But Bobby never was one for swinging pipe and within seconds he's strolling onto the set of some b-movie musical, waiting for an off-screen toss of a top hat and cane. As usual, the strings don't help his effort to walk like a big dog. But "Walkin' With My Angel" is an ace Goffin-King song and even it's being relegated to b-side of "Run To Him" couldn't keep it from charting at a respectable #53 in '61.

Four years later, Herman's Hermits would record "Walkin' With My Angel" for the b-side of their cover of "Silhouettes". It didn't chart but the boys managed to sound tougher than Bobby.

You know you got trouble when you've been out-butched by Peter Noone...

November 11, 2008 Earworm

Due to my recent relapse with Facebook, I find myself communicating with people I've not spoken with since the last dance at the Senior Prom. It's been fun to discover who I have absolutely nothing in common with now that the books are closed and surprising to find those with whom I had nothing in common aside from mutual friends who shared actually shared the same passions that we never got around to discussing.

The status of a friend of friend recently read that she was attending the Vocal Group Hall of Fame event. Surprised to find a potential kindred spirit and green with envy, I commented on her status, she commented back, and an instant message dialogue proved necessary. She was as surprised by my interest in the event as I had been with hers and a casual remark about being the step-daughter of one of The Angels briefly stopped my heart. I asked, "Is your step-mother Peggy?", and, after a brief moment, she replied, "Yup!".

I promptly became a slobbering fan, blabbering on about how much I love "Give Her Up (Baby)" and "Beggin'" and, when she had the chance, she replied, "Wow, you really know your stuff. Do you want some autographs from the event?" Needless to say, my answer was yes.

Since then, I've been constantly playing The Angels' follow up to "My Boyfriend's Back", the criminally overlooked "I Adore Him". How the country could resist this cheer leading for the dysfunctional relationship is beyond me, I can barely get through the thing with searching for a set of pom-poms. Peggy sounds as young as spring and maybe as horny. As always, there's something in that girl's delivery that suggests more than she says, that the love she gets when she's alone with him may be more than the hand holding variety that parents hoped for their daughters, and that it is flat out awesome.

Why else would she put up with this jerk?

November 07, 2008 Earworm

I don't know about the rest of you but I'm exhausted. Hours of rigidly hanging off the edge of my ashtray with one hand clinging to my facebook, and preparing to be the angriest voter in the world while hoping for the best takes a lot of a guy. Then, the celebration, followed by attempts at discretion - no need to be obnoxious about it, right - leading to clandestine hugs and jumping up and down... Oh, and then there's the day job.

What a week.

And now the weekend. The usual chores, friends' house for dinner, a possible reunion, and preparations for the arrival of Kmatt should keep me busy enough to lead me right back to exhausted. Life goes on during the holding pattern, so go we must.

To cap the weekend, I'm going with Tommy James & The Shondells' follow up to "Crimson And Clover", "Sweet Cherry Wine". One, because it's just groovy enough to match how I feel, yet not too pushy. Two, because Callie said, "When was the last time you heard "Sweet Cherry Wine", the other day and then seemed surprised when I replied, "Last weekend". This, in turn, surprised me because I thought every home had a copy of "The Best of"... even if it's on vinyl.

Anyway, have a great weekend.

November 06, 2008 Earworm

The Fonz was nowhere in sight when I woke up with my internal jukebox on the fritz. No song in the head. Nothing. Nada. I began to wonder if Dan had been slipping Prozac in my Pepsi. The morning news failed to turn it on and even some catty swipes at Beyonce's magic wig cabinet didn't do the trick. Fortunately, Jimmy LouWho mentioned that he'd been listening to Charley Pride at the same moment that another image of Barack Obama hit the tv screen.

"Didn't he do "Kiss An Angel Good Morning"?
"Yep"

Perfect. Charley was a first, too.

After a good start as a pitcher for the American Negro League's Memphis Red Sox, he signed with the C farm team of the New York Yankees where an arm injury lessened his chance for the big league. In 1958 he paid a visit to Sun Records and recorded a few tracks, none of which were released at the time, with only one surviving for posterity. After two years in the army, he tried to return to baseball but, with diminishing returns in that field, he began to focus on a career in music.

By the time he caught the ear of Chet Atkins it was 1966, a time when no African-Americans could get traction in that market. His first few singles were credited to "Country Charley Pride", perhaps to convince disc jockeys that the only thing black about his records was the RCA label. It took three singles to get Charley a major hit and "Just Between You And Me" made him a Grammy winner and the first non-white face to appear at The Grand Ole Opry.

Four years and thirteen top ten country hits later, seven of them number ones, "Kiss An Angel Good Morning" became his eighth country chart topper and the long awaited big cross over to the pop charts, where the single peaked at #21. To be honest, I hated it at the time which is probably why I am surprised to learn that it wasn't a number one. I remember it as being inescapable for years. Listening to it now, it's obvious that producer Jack Clement - who probably had met Charley at those earlier Sun sessions - managed to capture a large helping of happy thoughts on the tapes, creating what has to be the country equivalent of bubble gum music.

Charley never hit the upper reaches of the pop chart again but his trail of country top tens would continue for another twelve years, proving the strength of his fan base. I, however, don't recognize any of them.

Thanks for the kick, Jim.

November 05, 2008 Earworm

Forty-four years after it inadvertently became a call to action, the dream has become a reality, and that alone is reason for "Dancing In The Streets". But let's not get carried away, fixating on the accomplishment of one goal while forgetting all that needs to be done. The truth is, it's not that we needed a change, it's that change has to happen. Now, change must be clearly defined and that, my swinging friends, is the challenge before us.

Now, back to dancing... even you, Arkansas and Florida. Maybe you'll find the beat, heed the call, and drag yourselves into this century.

November 04, 2008 Earworm

The Beastie Boys' "Fight For Your Right" is the earworm for today. Now get 'em up! It's your party, help plan it.