You know what an earworm is. It’s that tune, that lyric, that harmony that runs through your mind, over and over and over again.

I have been accused of manufacturing earworms. I used to start each blog with a lyric or two from a popular song. Then one of my associates complained that after reading my posts she could never clear her mind of the song. Not wanting to put a barricade in her working day I stopped those lyrical openings.

A few days ago I received my delayed comeuppance.  An earworm invaded my brain, nibbling away at the frontal cortex on the way to my memory centers. I was vaguely familiar with the song. The melody was bright in my mind, but the lyrics were a bit muddy–I couldn’t quite recall a single coherent line. I was convinced I could clear the earworm, if only I could remember the name of the song.

Although I knew that I had heard the song a few times on the radio, I was sure that it was not on my regular iPhone rotation. I doubted I had ever heard it on my self-curated Pandora station. There was just one clue that might help me identify the song. I had a vague certainty that the band performing the song was Phish.

I know almost nothing about Phish. I know they are a jam band with a following somewhat resembling the Grateful Dead (Phish Heads?) and that their lead singer sometimes performs with the remnants of the Dead. But have I ever heard any of their music? What made me convinced this fragment of a tune was their song? And how was that going to help me solve the mystery?

As usual, when stumped I turned to Google. I begged my brain to remember a few words from the lyrics. I Googled those lyrics along with “Phish.” No hits. I queried “Best Phish songs” but still no luck. I reviewed my Shazam history–nope, no record of a Phish song there. I even tweeted Lin Brehmer, morning tune-spinner at WXRT, begging for the name of the one Phish song I thought the station played. No response from him or his listeners.

And then–inspiration. Alexa. Lately, the old gal has been limited to responding to the granddaughters’ requests to play “Baby Shark.”  But maybe she could help me. I asked her to play Phish songs.

“Shuffling Phish songs,” she replied.

The first few notes of a song I had never heard played.

“Next,” I requested. Another mishit.

“Next, next, next.”

Finally, on hearing the sixth or seventh song, “Eureka!”

The Phish tune was “Heavy Things.” A sense of relief, and the knowledge that my persistent earworm could be laid to rest. Only to be replaced by “Baby Shark.” That one will live in my head forever.

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Missing politics? Here’s a link to last week’s blog: http://www.chicagonow.com/downsize-maybe/2019/07/democratic-letter/

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