Rules for Admission into the Hall of Fame

Carhenge in Alliance, Nebraska. It's in the Henge Hall of Fame.
Along with Stone (which is somewhere in England) and maybe some others.

The Earworm Hall of Fame is an exclusive club only for the most elite of earworms. That means the Hall of Fame has rules, rules for admissions. And by "rules for admissions," I mean for inductees into the Hall of Fame. There are no rules for those who (wisely) choose to visit this (as of now) virtual Hall of Fame. As for the Hall being virtual only (as of now) -- hey the Funk Music Hall of Fame is still (I believe) virtual and if it's good enough for the Ohio Players then it's good enough for us.

Perhaps, one day, after we've raised eight digits or so of dollars on a Go Fund Me page, the Hall will go "brick and mortar," as the cool kidz say. And when we do, you might not want to get the audioguide. Just sayin'. (The audioguide will just be "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go" played on a continuous two-hour loop. Don't say you weren't warned.)

Here are the rules. To be inducted into this Hall of Fame, you must be an earworm. Your recording must have been released to the unsuspecting general public at least 25 years prior to you the earworm being inducted into our Hall of Fame. Why 25 years? I think that's the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame rule and -- hey, if it's good enough for Little Richard Penniman or The Who then it's good enough for us.

(But it's not good enough for the Ohio Players who, in one of history's great injustices, remains outside the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame looking in. So too are they outside looking in at the Earworm Hall of Fame, but that's because, right now, so far, there are no inductees. The error of omission is sure to be rectified before the first snow falls in Dayton this winter.)

So the earworm must be lodging itself in un-evict-able fashion for a quarter century. The earworm must stand the test of time. (Plus, the 60s, 70s, 80s, and 90s are my era. Bias much?) Inductees will be chosen from among internet lists of most relentless earworms as well as from among my own personal curses.

Other than that, we're here for the fun and games. At least until that one particular Wham! or Styx song gets so deeply embedded in our brains that surgery is the only option. And by surgery, I mean lobotomy.