The pain, the pain, the insufferable pain!

The pain, the pain, the insufferable pain! Make it stop!

    I’m in the neighborhood supermarket innocently shopping when it happens– the PA system plays one of my most hated songs: “Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?” by that terrorist group calling itself “Chicago”.

    I am crippled as the inane lyrics of “walking down the street one day” bebop along accompanied by sunny horns blaring and toot-toot-tooting me down an emotional rathole. The melodic line worms its way into my cerebral cortex and takes root, infesting my brain with its horrible poison. The virus spreads. The horns, the stupid lyrics, the incessant evil background singers– they all roost in my consciousness and permeate my very being. Surely this is the soundtrack of hell. 

    I am infected.

    I am ill.

    I am a hostage under siege.

    Ironically, only one thing can dissipate the effect: time.

    Does anybody really know how much time it will take?

    Does anybody really care? I do. I really do.

    What is your most hated song? Let the discussion begin.