In that things stick to it all the time. Not in a good way. When it comes to names and faces I am absolutely terrible, so that often, when I am introduced to people, I give them a great hostessy grin and say "it is SO lovely to meet you" just as they say "yes, remember when we all spent that weekend together in Dullstroom".
What does, however, stick in my mind worse than superglue are songs. Terrible songs. And not a great variety of them either. It is like my mind is a jukebox from somewhere like Prins Albert, with very few updates having been made since '88. And even then the changes weren't necessarily for the better. Usually, my days proceed to a soundtrack of Kumbayah, one tanamera and - bizarrely, for a Jewish girl - a collection of hymns, ranging from He (He can turn the tide and calm the angry sea) and Because I have been given much I too must give...and, also, I'm dreaming of a white christmas. That one only really springs up when something good has happened, almost like a strange pavlovian response, so that whenever I am happy or in a good mood, I walk around humming old Bing Cosby yuletide numbers.
The reason I am writing this now is because I have just had a particularly unfortunate couple of hours where my typing has taken place to the tune of "Please don't go". Ouch. definitely not one of the best songs to have emerged from the early 90s - and in an era which produced Pump up the jam and Everybody's Free to feel good, that is no small thing.
The worst part is, I know I can try switch songs, but all that's going to happen is that I will be transported straight back to Wednesday mornings in primary school, warbling along to Morning has Broken.
What does, however, stick in my mind worse than superglue are songs. Terrible songs. And not a great variety of them either. It is like my mind is a jukebox from somewhere like Prins Albert, with very few updates having been made since '88. And even then the changes weren't necessarily for the better. Usually, my days proceed to a soundtrack of Kumbayah, one tanamera and - bizarrely, for a Jewish girl - a collection of hymns, ranging from He (He can turn the tide and calm the angry sea) and Because I have been given much I too must give...and, also, I'm dreaming of a white christmas. That one only really springs up when something good has happened, almost like a strange pavlovian response, so that whenever I am happy or in a good mood, I walk around humming old Bing Cosby yuletide numbers.
The reason I am writing this now is because I have just had a particularly unfortunate couple of hours where my typing has taken place to the tune of "Please don't go". Ouch. definitely not one of the best songs to have emerged from the early 90s - and in an era which produced Pump up the jam and Everybody's Free to feel good, that is no small thing.
The worst part is, I know I can try switch songs, but all that's going to happen is that I will be transported straight back to Wednesday mornings in primary school, warbling along to Morning has Broken.
...All I want is a room somewhere,
ReplyDeleteFar away from from the cold night air..