Ester and Abi Ofarim
Peace and quiet all the way to the office this morning.
It appeared that the out-of-control part of my brain was having a lay-in.
I made a cup of tea before embarking on my first meeting of the day, and as I added the hot water, I caught myself whistling a tune.
That out-of-control part of my brain was singing along, curses!
"You're the lady, you're the lady that I love,
I'm the lady, the la-ady who..."
and so on.
The tune is called Cinderella Rockefella, and it was a hit in 1968.
This is a new low. My brain is now serving up iffy tunes from before I was born.
I have a horrible feeling I may just have proved that music played to a foetus has a lasting impact.
It appeared that the out-of-control part of my brain was having a lay-in.
I made a cup of tea before embarking on my first meeting of the day, and as I added the hot water, I caught myself whistling a tune.
That out-of-control part of my brain was singing along, curses!
"You're the lady, you're the lady that I love,
I'm the lady, the la-ady who..."
and so on.
The tune is called Cinderella Rockefella, and it was a hit in 1968.
This is a new low. My brain is now serving up iffy tunes from before I was born.
I have a horrible feeling I may just have proved that music played to a foetus has a lasting impact.
posted by Furry at 8:54 am
1 Comments:
Furry, I sense you are a good man and I like your work, but thanks to your Cinderella Rockerfella posting I have those two in my head all afternoon, all evening (save for a brief respite with Hugh Laurie and a strange US accent) and then this morning.
A may have to place you in quarantine.
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