Ring of Fiew
So I got my CDs out of layaway today, and now I’m happily ripping them into my library at work. Problem is, for whatever reason, when I rip songs I usually have to enter the song title and artist name manually. Something to do with computer settings that I’m too lazy to learn how to change. And I’m entering in the song titles for my Johnny Cash CD, and mistyping and correcting as I go. Somehow, “Ring of Fire” came out as “Ring of Fiew.” Which immediately got me thinking of the Elmer Fudd version of “Fire,” as recorded by the Pointer Sisters, and written (if I’m not mistaken) by Bruce Springsteen.
Years back, I was hanging at my-drinking-buddy-Anthony’s place, waiting for him to get out of the shower so we could go out and shoot pool or some such thing. And “Fire” came on the radio just as he was coming out. I made a comment that I could never hear that song without thinking of the Elmer Fudd version… and he looked at me like I was crazy. Had no idea what I was talking about, and didn’t seem to believe me when I explained it. Imagine his surprise when, as the song ended, the DJ made the same comment as I had about Elmer Fudd.
So now, take it a step further, and imagine the sound in my mind, as I read my own mistyped words. “Ring of Fiew.” I can see my mother now, clenching her head in agony as Johnny Cash’s voice and June Carter’s lyrics ring in her own ears, forevermore in the lisping bray of Elmer Fudd. Because, of course, I can no longer get that sound out of my head, and may well be scarred for life.
Somewhere, Johnny and June are either rolling over in their graves, or laughing in spite of themselves. I’m inclined to believe laughing.
Years back, I was hanging at my-drinking-buddy-Anthony’s place, waiting for him to get out of the shower so we could go out and shoot pool or some such thing. And “Fire” came on the radio just as he was coming out. I made a comment that I could never hear that song without thinking of the Elmer Fudd version… and he looked at me like I was crazy. Had no idea what I was talking about, and didn’t seem to believe me when I explained it. Imagine his surprise when, as the song ended, the DJ made the same comment as I had about Elmer Fudd.
So now, take it a step further, and imagine the sound in my mind, as I read my own mistyped words. “Ring of Fiew.” I can see my mother now, clenching her head in agony as Johnny Cash’s voice and June Carter’s lyrics ring in her own ears, forevermore in the lisping bray of Elmer Fudd. Because, of course, I can no longer get that sound out of my head, and may well be scarred for life.
Somewhere, Johnny and June are either rolling over in their graves, or laughing in spite of themselves. I’m inclined to believe laughing.
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