I’ve suffered for my art.
Now it’s your turn. Yesterday was filled stem to stern with stupid, but I did not let it harsh my mellow. I had a job to do at a difficult customer under difficult conditions which one of my colleagues had just done last week, it took him (and three other guys) all week.
I got the apprentice that has no fear of work, and doesn’t know that you can’t do things, so he just does them. We had all the pieces and all the room, and we did the job in four hours. part of the job involved removing the machine door and replacing it with a bigger, heavier door. We picked the old door off and put the new door back on, not thinking for a moment that the door weighed 300 lbs. if we had thought about how heavy it was we might have waited until we got help, instead we just did it.
I had to keep busy just because I had to not think about what was going on in my head. See, I had a song stuck in there all day, and it kept trying to come out of my head and inflict itself on others. And my young apprentice had never done anything to deserve the chicken dance.
You really don’t either, but just because I’m in a mood, here’s a little Benny Bell.
Not sure if this is just urban legend or actually true. I know lots of folks that swear it is true. At one time I volunteered for a couple of decades at the Tulsa Oktoberfest. The story goes that the Chicken Dance originated there. The headliner bands were all brought in from Germany or the surrounding area and one of the bands brought it with them. Not sure how it became the Chicken Dance because it was originally titled The Duck Dance. Anyway it kind of stuck and became the theme song of the festival.
I have listened to it so many times that I cringe every time I hear it now. You were very kind to the apprentice to keep it to yourself.
Worked for a few years in hotels and country clubs.
Every single wedding reception had to play that damned song.
A few years ago a very good friend got married. Day of I was helping get the reception hall set up when the DJ arrived to load out his gear so I shrugged, grabbed a tote full of CDs and drug them into the hall. Noticed right there on top was…. The Chicken Dance.
Turned to the DJ, and explained that I was taking custody of the disc and he could have it back at midnight. Apparently I had a somewhat demonic glint in my eye because he didn’t argue a bit.
Reception rolls around and a good time is had by all. As the evening winds down the DJ asks me if he’s really getting the disc back. I told him, “yep, it’s tucked under the wiper of your van still in it’s little sleeve.”
I finally got a reception where I didn’t have to pull any miracles out of my ass and didn’t have to listen to that damned song.
BGM
Chicken dance is like the hokey pokey in my mind. Something every one can do to get people on the dance floor. Some stay, but once the ice is broken.
It is flat out amazing what you can do if you don’t know it can’t be done.
Shaving cream — an old Dr Demento staple. I feel 13 again.
On the topic of ear worms:
The desire to sing The Lion Sleeps Tonight is only a whim away.
A whim away, a whim away, a whim away….
I can not hear it without seeing it all over again, but my Mom in the 70’s dancing around the kitchen while “the hustle” was playing, but instead if her singing the words “the hustle” it was “tuna casserole”. She had a bit of hearing loss from all the years as deputy and range time and got the words wrong.
Now THATS a mondegreen!