My Morning Playlist

And we danced like a wave on the ocean, romancedWe were liars in love, and we danced

Swept away for a moment by chanceAnd we danced and danced and danced …

Today started the same way it has every day for months: with a song playing in my head; an “earworm,” and it kicks in the second I wake up.

And it usually doesn’t go away until long after I’ve begun my morning routine; often a couple of hours.

It’s not the same the song every day. Today’s was “And We Danced,” a jumpy 1985 hit by a little- known band called The Hooters. Funny thing is, I don’t like the song, and I don’t recall ever “consciously” listening to or seeking out music from The Hooters back in my college days when they were experiencing moderate exposure on Billboard’s Top 100.

Unlike so many people I know, I don’t mind earworms, and I’ve made this clear when the subject comes up in discussion, which I admit is rare (but it has come up). In fact, I believe my best friend/cousin Mike and I have discussed it at length on more than one occasion (check that; I’m sure of it), but if you know us, that wouldn’t surprise you. The list of inane, insignificant things we discuss on a routine basis is long and––if I may say––impressive, at least to us.

Anyway, over the years, I’ve made peace with earworms, allowing them to come and go as they please without questioning why they’ve invaded my head, how long they’ll stay or when the next one will visit. Usually, they occur midday, after I’ve been actively listening to music or at least had it playing in the background. That seems logical, and from everything I’ve read about earworms (which consisted of skimming an article on the Internet for about five minutes; but it was from a Harvard professor, so there’s that), that’s generally when they tend to pop up.

They’re also more prominent in people with a music background, and I fancy myself something of a musician; at least I was in my past. I also saw something about earworms occurring more often in “people with brains configured a certain way.” While I’ll heartily admit that my brain is likely “configured in a certain way,” I didn’t explore that avenue further for fear of what that actually meant and/or what I might discover about myself.

One of the interesting things about this (and when I say “interesting” I realize it’s likely only of interest to myself and, potentially, to my best friend/cousin Mike) is that these earworms most often present themselves as songs from music genres I do NOT listen to.

One day it’s a one-hit wonder from the 1960s, the next, a classical piece. I’ve awakened to ditties from boy bands, standards (i.e., L-O-V-E by Nat King Cole), TV jingles, and rap. (Tell me, how did a Beastie Boys song get in my head when I’ve NEVER voluntarily listened to the Beastie Boys in my life?)

Two days ago, I had a pleasant surprise, waking up to the theme song from the Peanuts cartoon. (So, it’s not all bad.) But more often than not, these are songs I rarely, if ever, listen to or that I even remotely like.

What’s with that?

I’m not asking you for answers; I’m not even sure I care about the answers (especially the one regarding “people with brains configured a certain way”), I just think it’s interesting that this happens, and as much as I’ve become friends with my earworms over all these beautiful, musical years, I’d really like it if I could find a way to get rid of the “rise-and-shine” variety … or at least control the type of song that my internal alarm clock has already decided is perfect for me on any given day.

For context, that lyric you saw at the top of this piece has run through my head no less than a dozen times in the past 30 minutes, coming and going as it pleases, without even asking if I’m too busy for it, or if maybe “later” would be a good time.

Unlike “everyday” earworms which arrive sporadically, sometimes logically (i.e., we retain a melody we’ve just heard on the radio) and seem to know when to leave, the “rise-and-shine” earworm is rude, demanding and loud, always overstaying its welcome.

It’s like the difference between the sweet little ladybug who just hangs out on your flowers, and maybe crawls across your patio furniture not bothering a soul, versus the Asian beetle (which looks similar to the ladybug) that shows up without warning, brings all its friends to hang out on your deck, ruins your plants and then refuses to leave. (“Squatters have rights, pal; you can’t make us go!”)

I’m pretty sure you’ve experienced earworms in your day because, according to my five-minute, Harvard-based Googling, well over 90% of the population has. And that means you understand my situation.

But I am curious if you’ve ever experienced earworms first thing in the morning. (I hesitate to use the term “suffered,” because as a “with s brain configured a certain way,” these early morning visitors don’t really bother me; I rather enjoy them … for a while). If you haven’t, count yourself lucky. If you have, just know you’re not alone.

And we danced like a wave on the ocean, romancedWe were liars in love, and we danced

Swept away for a moment by chanceAnd we danced and danced and danced …

OK, earworm, let’s get on with our day.

© 2025 David R. Haznaw