While we were in Jamaica, I thought of the Banana Boat Song not at all, which is odd since it’s classic and Jamaican and we indulged in more than a drink of rum. (We were also doing quite a bit of the work all day — Holly has tallied the group result at two novels, plotting and outlining for two more, a short story written, and several other short stories started — plus, a proposal thing was finished in addition to all that, I believe.)
But, beginning at the airport, I now can think of no other song. I hum it, and sing a few bars, and I’m pretty sure it’s holed up deep in my ear canal, like seawater in some other people‘s. I guess the only thing to be done is add Beetlejuice to the Netflix queue.
*With apologies to Maureen; I just couldn’t help myself.
That’s not an Eargasm! In fact, now I’m trying to think of how to get out of this post without 1. outing the two guys I know who stick Q Tips in their ears to clean them and close their eyes in ecstasy and 2. getting “The Banana Boat” song stuck in my head, which is an Earworm. And a nasty one.
Then I hope I get extra credit for the fact that I was thinking of “Jamaica ‘Sad to say/I’m on my way/ Won’t be back for many’s the day’ Farewell” ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jamaica_Farewell ) pretty much the entire time we were there, but I never, ever, ever let it out by even so much as a soft hum, so fearful was I of infecting the rest of yez.
Respect.
I bow at your self-sacrifice!