Song: “C’mon Marianne

I met a girl named Marianne over the weekend. She’d hate me if we had to spend any amount of time together, because I don’t know if I’d ever stop singing this song in her ear. It was in my head the entire time I was sitting near her.

I used to sing this song all the time when I was little because it was on my Donnie and Marie album. I seem to remember singing it to my Grover puppet, who had long arms I could wrap around me when I was trying to convince Grover to take me back in his ever-loving, ever-blue arms.

I’m currently ripping this CD from my mom, which is perfect because these songs all remind me of her. The CD player next to her bed plays this every morning, which means every morning this weekend I woke up to the opening notes of “Rag Doll.” If that’s never happened to you, let me try to describe it. It sounds like the grooviest group of tambourine-carrying angels are approaching your bed, about to take you away. It’s spookier than fun, and realizing what’s actually going on takes about six more seconds than I’d like.

Mom used to clean the house to The Four Seasons, so I still expect the sound of a vacuum cleaner whenever I hear “Big Girls Don’t Cry.”