Monday Earworm: Rosemary Clooney

This past weekend my family and I visited San Antonio. It was a very quick trip — less than 48 hours — and we were seeing some friends and generally just avoiding Houston and the news cycle for a while. We love these little getaways, and this was our last one of the summer.

My grandmother was from there, so I spent a lot of time as a child traveling to SA on the weekends, and it’s a city my family and I really love.

For some reason, this song sticks in my mind with SA. Not only because it kept coming magically up on my iPod while we were driving, but because I link it in my memory with my great-grandmother’s house there. This style of music was a big part of my childhood, too; when I was growing up I would listen to KQUE with my dad or grandfather, especially Paul Harvey’s “The Rest of the Story.” If I had come to such a radio personality now, as an adult, I can’t imagine I would have any patience for him, but when I was a child, I was entertained by his anecdotes. And I have always loved Big Band.

Rosemary Clooney reportedly never liked her novelty songs; she hated singing them. But they allowed her to get to the more meaningful stuff, since doing these for her producer meant she could also sing things that mattered to her.

Sorry, Rosemary, but as silly as this song is, I can’t let it go.

 

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