Yesterday, I was humming a tune and it took me a minute to figure out what the heck I was humming.  It hit me: it was SCARECROW AND MRS. KING.  This was one of my mother’s favorite shows. How cool would it be to be the housewife/spy with a foxy agent like Bruce Boxleitner?

I like the villainy-sounding music when they show the blonde.

That’s all I remember about the show: the premise and the music.

I get lots of songs stuck in my head, even songs I haven’t heard for over twenty years.  I mean, I don’t even think they show SCARECROW on Netflix, let alone re-runs.

Also, I probably watched way too much TV as a youngster, because unbidden, commercial themes will waft into my head like I’ve got a faulty antenna coming in through my old silver fillings.

Monchichi, anyone?

Or Jem, like Hannah Montana, only way cooler because she’s punk, sort of, plus an executive, and battles another band called the Misfits.

I was too old for Jem, but those insidious commercials still wound their way inside my head, where they remained stubbornly lodged. If I am 100 years old and can’t remember my name, if someone begins humming Jem and the Holograms (beautiful hair that’s truly outrageous! Truly truly truly outrageous!) I will sing along.

My kids just began watching Fraggle Rock (thanks a lot, Netflix.  That and SuperMario Bros). I can’t even think the name without hearing “Let the music play…worries for another day!”  Argh.

Cadillac is at the opposite end of the spectrum.  He remembers no songs, not even Christmas carols.  He knows Happy Birthday and for some reason, Felix the Cat, which is the song he sings to the kids when he puts them to bed.