During the late 90’s, a certain Tampa Bay radio station began their morning drive-time with a shtick dubbed the “Morning Musical Virus.” Designed to annoy and/or captivate listeners, they’d spin a long-forgotten, yet upbeat ditty -- certain to stick in our subconscious minds ALL the live-long day. For instance ...
Raise your hand if you’ve have had the pleasure(?) of experiencing Disney’s “It’s a Small World” attraction. After a few days, did you want to throttle someone? “Stop the voices in my head!”
These days, one of the reasons I so enjoy “my” KOY, I never know what to expect from their playlists! (And, I sense my father’s chucking somewhere above at his Beatles-loving daughter … who not only remembers the lyrics of songs from his era, but actually enjoys them!)
It’s probably not intentional, but I suspect this program director has a bit of mischief up his own sleeve. Just last week, following a sweet song by Pat Boone (or was it Nat King Cole?) ~ without warning, here come the distinctive notes of Soul City Symphony’s “The Hustle.” My left foot begins tapping the floorboard, fingers beat an accompaniment on the steering wheel. Whoo…. ooooh-o-o-oh-whooh!
By the time I’ve arrived at work, the virus has embedded itself in my brain: I’m humming it at my desk, whispering enroute to the ladies room, tapping my fingernails at the round table. (DO the Hustle! Ba-ba-ba-ba …ba-ba-BA-ba-YA!) By now, my co-workers ~ most, younger than my own son ~ are shooting me suspicious glances.
What to do, where to hide? Will someone please shut off the loop …. I didn’t even much like the disco era!
...But I sure appreciate those chaps who allow me to revisit the music of my life!