Free Dave Barry's Book of Bad Songs (Backlist eBook Program) by Dave Barry Page B

at least as many letters, just as strongly worded, attacking Neil Diamond. But that was just the beginning: I got a whole lot more letters from people who wanted to complain about other songs that they hated to hear on the radio. And these people were angry . These people were advocating the use of tactical nuclear weapons against the next radio station to play, for example, “American Pie.”
    I have, in my twenty years as a newspaper columnist, written about many vitally important issues—politics, the economy, foreign policy, mutant constipated worms, etc.—and none of these topics has ever stirred up so much passion in the readers as the issue of bad songs. People were stopping me on the street, grabbing me by the shirt, and, with cold fury in their eyes, saying things like: “You know that song about the piña coladas? I HATE THAT SONG! I HATE IT!!”
    So I realized that I had tapped into a throbbing artery of emotion. I realized that Americans—who are so often accused of not being interested in or informed about the issues—care very deeply about song badness. I also realized that, by probing deeper into this subject, I had a chance to do something that could provide a truly significant benefit to the human race; namely, I could get an easy column out of it.
    And thus I decided to conduct the Bad Song Survey. I asked my readers to vote for what they considered to be the worst songs, the songs that cause them to poke finger holes in their car radios in their desperate haste to change the station.
    The response was unbelievable. I think more people voted in the Bad Song Survey than in the presidential election. Certainly the Bad Song voters were more enthusiastic. Here are some typical quotes from the voters:
     
“The number one worst piece of pus-oozing, vomit-inducing, camel-spitting, cow-phlegm song EVER in the history of the SOLAR system is ‘Dreams of the Everyday Housewife.’ ”
“I’d rather chew a jumbo roll of tinfoil than hear ‘Hey Paula’ by Paul and Paula.”
“Whenever I hear the Four Seasons’ ‘Walk Like a Man,’ I want to scream, ‘Frankie, SING like a man!’ ”
“I wholeheartedly believe that ‘Ballerina Girl’ is responsible for 90 percent of the violent crimes in North America today.”
“I nominate every song ever sung by the Doobie Brothers. Future ones also.”
“Have you noticed how the hole in the ozone layer has grown progressively larger since rap got popular?”
“I nominate ‘Cat’s in the Cradle’ by Harry Chapin. Harry’s dead, of course, so we’ll never have to worry about hearing it performed live again, but darn it, Dave, the next disc jockey here in K.C. that plays that song is going to get smacked across the head with a tube sock full of wood screws.”
     
    I ended up writing two columns on the results of the Bad Song Survey. These columns generated still more mail, some from people who wanted to cast additional votes (“I can’t BELIEVE you left out ‘Eve of Destruction!’ I HATE THAT SONG!”); some from people who were very upset about certain songs that were voted as bad (“Perhaps your readers are not aware that ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight’ is a very fine traditional...”). And I heard from some people whose lives had actually been changed by the survey. Here’s one of my favorite letters:
    Dear Dave,
    Your articles on Bad Songs were wonderful. I laughed ’til I cried. However, when I tried to read it to my boyfriend, much to my dismay he knew the words to all of the songs and likes them. I had to repeatedly stop reading so he could sing each one, and then listen to his exclamations of “What’s wrong with THAT one!?” and “He doesn’t like ‘Honey’?!!!” etc. I knew he was a sentimental fool, but had no idea how bad his taste was. Now I’m afraid we’re too incompatible to continue the relationship.
    Thanks a lot, Dave.
    Susan Bolton “Alone again, naturally”
    And that was not the end of it. I don’t think there will ever