It's funny how sometimes the attic door on my memory seems to have come open in the night and one of the toys falls out while I'm taking a shower or brushing my teeth.
This morning I woke up with an old Mac Davis song called "Poor Boy Boogie" stuck in my head. I haven't heard that thing since prior to puberty. It was on the album that had his big hit "Don't Get Hooked on Me" where he warned young conquests that he would use them like Kleenex.
Mac Davis had a variety show for a while - remember those? Sonny and Cher, Carol Burnette, and Bobby Goldsboro (of "Honey" fame: "See the tree, how big it's grown, but yet it hasn't been so long it...wasn't big" ... "And Honey, I miss you, 'cause you'd help me rhyme..."). My mom thought Mac was something else because he shook his hips in a particular way when he sang, so we had the album and watched his show every week. After the Mac Davis show was the time to hit mom with requests for candy or a new toy because she wasn't on her game for a good couple hours following his hip thing.
Once in a while Mac would introduce the audience to the wonders of "eefing" or "eefn'". This is a form of scat-singing/boom-beat box vocal percussion that sounds like someone has a ping pong ball lodged at their epiglottis and is tragically trapped in indecision about either swallowing it or horking it up, thus making gasping, squeaking, "eefing" sounds, all while rhythmically slapping their knee and chest with one hand. Another way of trying to visualize it is it's kinda like Bobby McFerrin having an epileptic fit in the middle of "Thinkin' About Your Body".
"Poor Boy Boogie" was the "Stairway to Heaven" of eefin' songs. "Poor Boy Boogie" went something like this (if I recall correctly):
Po' boy don't need 'lectronics to make no rock 'n' roll
Po' boy got boogie woogie bubblin' in his soul
Po' boy got rhythm
Po' boy got blues
Po' boy got boogie woogie right down in his shoes
(...this middle part of the song must've been stored in one of those brain cells I killed in college, but eventually Mac worked up to the "eefing" part of the song...)
Now do your thang on the jug and the jews harp!
I'm gonna blow this old harpoon!
Now give me something to eef with!
Now add some funky old guitar!
At this point in the song, Mac would eef for a while.
I think next time they are blasting disturbing noises and songs at someone in a hostage situation, trying to wear them down, they should pull out "Poor Boy Boogie". It would take a strong man or woman to withstand that sucker at a few hundred decibels over and over.
By the way, if you think this is all a figment of my imagination, here's another story about Mac Davis and his effin' prowess that I discovered while researching how to spell "eef".
TLD: In an example of sheer, full-blown synchronicity, Dooce's post for today is about songs that stick in your head. Ain't that something?
(FYI, I get my sound links from CD Universe because it's the only place I've found that offers samples of all the songs on a CD since Amazon engulfed CDnow (the other guys who let you hear it all) like a big web amoeba.)