I woke up this morning with "Charlie on the MTA" by the Kingston Trio in my head. I haven't heard the song in at least a year, so it was a surprise to find its barres running across my brain, but all day it was a still quiet voice singing "...but will he ever return? No he never return and his fate is still unlearned...."
What?
I am bat shit insane.
"Charlie on the MTA" is one of those songs where I know all the words to it and have no idea why. It's like oldies songs, where you know all the words to these really odd songs and you have absolutely no idea why you know them. It's not like you seek out the oldies. You don't scan the stations hoping to catch that classic hit by Jan and Dean. You don't say, "Oh boy! It's the Beach Boys!" But when they come on, you just sing along like a little kid. Are we born knowing the basic words to "Leader of the Pack" or "Rockin' Robin"? Is it part of our duty as Americans? Can we find a way to use this brain power for something else?
And then there's my weird Irish thing, where I subconsciously turn songs into Irish drinking tunes, like "Charlie on the MTA" which is, let's face it, not an Irish song. At all. And then Bob Dylan's "Times They Are A-Changin'" makes me want to hold a frosty pint and swing my arm, singing it like, "Da tiiiiiimmmeees dey arrrr a chaaaaannngin'" for no apparent reason.
Apparently the only way I've found to communicate lately is through music. Seriously. It's a very strange place to be.
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