The old adage, “When you point your finger at someone else,
there are three more pointing back at you,” came to mind today.
While walking along Del Monte Beach in Monterey, I was quietly
criticizing every jogger and walker who passed me wearing ear
buds, i-pods, Mod Squads, whatever the darned things are (I know
they’re not transistor radios).
Can’t these people unplug from the music and listen to the
sounds of nature? I mean, what is more delicious than the cries
of ocean birds over the rush of waves; little pebbles clacking
as the tide retreats; dogs yapping with glee; the flap of a kite
or a lazy bi-plane circling overhead?
Then it dawned on me: I don’t plug into music when I’m out on my
nature walks because there’s ALWAYS a danged song running
through my brain. It’s usually the last thing I heard on the
radio and today it was Simon and Garfunkel’s “Parsley, Sage,
Rosemary and Thyme,” with a blasted chaser of “Cecelia,”
No matter how hard I try, I can’t tune the station in my head
out. It’s open 24-7.
The other day, a guy in my support group said, “Once I got
‘Jimmy cracked corn and I don’t care’ in my brain and it
wouldn’t shut up for two whole months. I tore at my hair –
what’s left of it – and swore and tried everything under the sun
but it persisted like a tick on a mule dear. I finally went over
the edge and headed to the hospital to be admitted at Garden
Pavilion and, thank GOD -, it stopped.”
My reply? “Thanks a LOT for sharing! Now the bloody thing will
be in MY brain all day.”
I am reminded of another adage, “The mind is a dangerous
neighborhood; you should never go in there alone.”
Two things, however, will stop the musical obsessions: when I
meditate and ask myself, “I wonder what my next thought is going
to be?” Or I sit and try to identify every single sound I can
hear: ocean, birds, horns honking, alarms going off, a Harley
Just thought I’d share that in case I’ve implanted some
repetitious songs in your head...
P.S. Oh! I just remembered some dandies: “Pop! Goes the Weasel”
“This land is your land” “The itsy bitsy spider . . .”
So, Sue me.