Recently, I discovered a new trigger. This trigger took me by surprise and entered my life with force because up until this point the triggers I’ve mentioned were “older” cultural references that have been in my life for quite some time that for some reason I feel the need to enumerate.* In this context, I define “older” as circa Jodeci, “Clerks” (or, the 90’s as some would say), or even circa 1927 when “The Killers” by Hemingway was published, which, I first read in the 90s… These are phrases that I memorized long ago (read: listening to specific songs and watching certain movies about 500 times) and just sort of always had as a trigger to the point I don’t remember the moment in time when any one of them started.
And, that’s what’s different about this recent trigger. It was just born, and I’m painfully aware of its existence. Here it is:
When I’m trying to course correct the pooch, I say to him, “hey, hey, hey,” which I do no fewer than 20 times a day, more on the weekends.
As in, “hey, hey, hey,” stop pulling on the leash.
“Hey, hey, hey,” stop putting your face in the grocery bag.
From Dec 2011 (when the pooch was adopted) to July 11, 2013 I was able to say, “hey, hey, hey” without any problems. “Hey, hey, hey” all day long. No trigger.
Now, immediately after saying these infamous words, I sing “Blurred Lines” by Robin Thicke. The problem is, I don’t know any of the words to “Blurred Lines,” so like my trigger, “is it worth it,” I’m condemned to just hum the likeness of the words, and then mutter, “hey, hey, hey.”
Perhaps, since this trigger is so new, I’ve mislabeled it as such. Perhaps, since we are now solidly into fall, people will stop talking about the “summer song,” or, as this song is replaced by something more popular, I won’t bump into it as much, and gradually I’ll stop making this association and I will be able to go back to telling the pooch to stop digging at the lawn trying to eat roots without excoriation.
* I do have a history of documenting things.