Talk about a crisis

The worst thing about yesterday's earthquake was it implanted the song "Walk on Water" by Eddie Money in my head. See, when it happened, I thought of Money's "Shakin'," but since I don't know many of the words to that beyond the chorus, I somehow transitioned to "Walk on Water," and now I can't get it out. Yes, even the "na na na na na, na na na na na" part.

See, this is apparently how I react in times of crisis--by associating the event with some inane pop culture reference. If an asteroid bears down on the planet in the near future, I'll probably hum that song from the Pac-Man Fever album or else just repeat that exchange from "National Lampoon's Vacation":

Got Asteroids?
No, but my dad does. He can't even sit on the toilet some days.

(NOTE: The preceding post is not intended to make light of the recent East Coast quake, nor of anyone who suffered in a real, non-musical way from that event, other earthquakes, or other natural disasters, for that matter. It is, though, intended to kind of bust Eddie Money's balls a little bit.)