Mickey Who? Mickey Mantle." There was also a song about Willie Mays from those years, but I think I'm safe from that one: all I can remember of it is Willie's boyish countertenor breaking in every now and again with a loud, "Say Hey!" I could've been stuck all day in a stadium-full of old-time Yankee fans chanting, "Joe, Joe, DiMaggio, we want you on our team," while their Red Sox counterpoints bellowed, "He's better than his brother Joe, Dominic DiMaggio." Or Teresa Brewer, singly coyly, "I love Mickey. Whether Japanese, Japlish, or junk, the tune stuck in my mind in Ichiro's voice nearly the entire day. The subconscious is often wrong, but never in doubt. How do I know it was Japanese, and not just some gibberish my subconscious cooked up? Because I knew. The only line I remember was, "He's a he's the King-of.the Bat." And then, Ichiro sang the verse, but I can't tell you how it went, because he sang in Japanese. I'd been dreaming I was watching a Seattle Mariners baseball game, and the players in the dugout were singing a chorus about Ichiro's skills. Yesterday morning, I woke up with what might have been my most unusual earworm ever. I wonder if the Master of Beyreuth suffered from ohrwurmen. Some of them are (as best I can tell) original compositions some are ragtime melodies some, themes from pieces of classical music. What may be odd about my earworms is that many of them are induced by dreams, then rage between my ears for hours after I wake up. are more likely to have frequent and severe earworm infestations, and yes, I've harbored the little critters all my life. It's a translation of a German word, ohrwurm, which means "earworm," and it has the same sense in Berlin as it does in Seattle. An earworm is a tune that goes round and round in your mind until you manage to drive it out with another one.
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