When we first moved to Canberra we lived for six months in a modern but soulless townhouse in a modern but soulless street in a modern but soulless suburb. The townhouse had two bathrooms; one of which included a spa, something that we, being afraid of anything new, never used. When Carl was around 18 months old he became mildly obsessed with anything that had buttons or knobs. One evening during his bath his eyes lit upon the button that switched on the spa. He duly pressed the button, and was given the fright of his life. For some time after that, bathtime would find Carl torn between desperately wanting to press that button again, and being unable to do so out of fear of what would happen if he did so. He never in fact pressed the button again, but his finger spent many a long minute hovering over it, quivering.
I know just how he feels. I have for some time now been in love with a song by the Baldwin Brothers (whoever they might be) called “Dream Girl”, featuring the vocal talents of Miho Hatori, from Cibo Matto. There are times when all I want to do in the world is listen to that song. And yet I know that if I hear so much as a tiny fragment, it will be stuck in my head for the rest of the day and I will have considerable trouble getting to sleep at night. Do I give in and listen to it? Can I resist its charms? I can’t stop thinking about listening to it. I CAN’T STAND IT. Is this what junkies go through?
