A woman who's been dead for more than 20 years once taught myself and my fellow elementary schoolers a number of songs we will never have a single use for other than to become lodged in our brains every now and then, preventing anything useful from happening until said song can be dislodged with, say, The Macarena or My Sharona. (feel free to add to the list of music that gets stuck in your head, whether good or bad)
Which is to say I have had Crawdad Song stuck in my head for two days and it doesn't seem to be leaving any time soon. Why were there so many songs about people going fishing in the old days? Anyway, do you know this song? It's something like: You get a line and I'll get a pole, honey. You get a line and I'll get a pole, babe. You get a line and I'll get a pole and we'll go fishing in the crawdad hole ...
As I was chewing my toast this morning I wondered if this song might be a little dirty, with all its talk of poles and holes. Dirty, dirty southern old-timers. And all us kids sitting on the cold tile floor of the cafeteria, following along to lyrics about Clementines falling into brines and chewing gums losing their flavor. I wonder if the alternate meanings of these songs ever occurred to Mrs. Henry.
This is all really just a distraction, because I have no plot for my novel. I'm making it up as I go. Which is how life kind of is, I guess. Sometimes we err, sometimes we succeed. Sometimes Crawdad Song gets stuck in our heads for two days and nothing productive happens.