Okay, there are some songs that are destined for the dustbin of your mind, and you know it. Most funny songs are funny the first week or so the song is out, but then it gets old and then it gets boring and then it gets to the point you want to take an ice pick to your ear drums rather than hear that song again. Funny how funny gets older quicker than nearly anything else, isn’t it? You can listen to your favorite song a lot longer than you can your favorite joke.
I got tired of “Call me, maybe” in ten seconds. No, really, I did. At work all I have is a radio in my truck so I have to keep scanning the stations to keep from listening to total garbage and I hit that song in the middle of it and thought, “I wonder if this is what Justine Beaver sounds like?” As it turns out, it isn’t, but it was just as bad. I’m one of the very few people who wouldn’t know a Justine Beaver song if I heard one, and dammit, I work hard to keep it that way.
Once upon a time, there was a song called ‘Train, train” by Blackfoot. It was a very popular song and I actually liked it. It was overplayed, but at least it was a good song. A friend of mine knew a woman who had a friend so we were going to meet with them at a bar. I got showered up and clean, put on nice clothes and went over to find my friend had a Drunk Buddy who wanted to go with us. The night went from promising to a disaster as the Drunk Buddy got too drunk to maintain and went crashing through a table full of people, spilling drinking and pissing people off. We left. We left in a hurry.
But the whole night Drunk Buddy was singing, “Train, train!” and that was the only lyrics he knew, apparently. Drunk buddy played the song over and over on an eight track tape player by rewinding it over and over, never getting it at the beginning of the song but that didn’t stop him. What did stop him was the alcohol. He had consumed far too much far too fast. Singing faded away to horse sputtering sounds and he rolled down the window of the car. Stop! Stop! I yelled from the back seat but it was too late. Drunk Buddy began puking like someone had punctured the side of a beached whale full of rum, coke, and bad bar food. Had I stood directly in the path of the river of puke I could not have been more splattered.
When we got to my friend’s house I cleaned off with a garden hose in the yard. It was like that scene from “Pulp Fiction”. If you’ve seen the movie you know exactly what I’m talking about.
To this day the song, “Train, Train” makes me cringe. I hate that song.
Which song do you hate and what happened to make you hate it?
Mike writes regularly at his site: The Hickory Head Hermit
Opinions expressed in this article are not necessarily those of the management of this site.