Ear Worms An' Parallel Universes

Last week, ah wer’ sat in t’ Angel Inn wi mi mates Big Ron an’ Joe Sykes, watchin’ t’ summer rain cum daan that ‘ard aatside, it wer aalmost cracking t’ cobbles.

“Appen us ‘Mediterranean Summer ‘as bin sucked in ter that parallel universe agayen!” says Joe, absentmindedly. “Sum wayer in another reality, a worm ‘ole as oppened up on a duplicate o’ this world - an spat aat aal our luvly ‘ot summer weather!”

“Aye” ah says, “An swapped it f’ aal theyer piss-pooar stuff!”

“Likely as not” continued Joe, “ther’s another version o’ me, in another version o’ t’ Angel Inn, swettin' cobs.”

“Reckon so!” ah says. “An’ ah bet that Joe stands ‘is raand a damned site faster than thee!”

“Wot parallel universe?” asked Big Ron.

“Remember that bloke Einstein?” says Joe, turnin’ ter Big Ron an’ ignoring me.

“T’ bloke wot created t’ seven foot monster wi bolts in it’s neck?” says Big Ron.

“No! Numpty!” say Joe. “That wer Frankenstein!”

“Oh!” says Big Ron.

“Frankenstein wer a boook by Mary Shelly” ah adds informatively.

“Not that lass daan t’ bakery wots allus showin’ off ‘er baps?” says Big Ron.

“No, not ‘er!” says Joe. “Einstein wer t’ bloke wot invented relativity!”

“Wot? Uncles, aunties, cousins an stuff?” says Big Ron.

“No - MC squared” ah adds helpfully.

“So ‘e wer rapper then?” says Big Ron.

“Wot planet ‘ave tha been livin’ on Ron?” says Joe. “No! Einstein wer one o’ t’ world’s greatest thinkers! ‘e theorised stuff!”

“Ohh, reight!” says Big Ron, addin’, “Like wot?”

 “Ok, let’s start fra beginning!” says Joe tekin’ in a big contemplative breath an’ an even bigger swig o’ ‘is paant....

 “Einstein lived donkey’s years ago, like. An’ ‘e wer a proper world-class worrier! ‘e used ter sit araand aal day long frettin’ abaat t’ sooarts o’ things wot other folks cudn’t explain. Like why us ‘ave night an’ day. An’ ‘ow us can see t’ stars at neight wen they’re actually billions o’ miles away. Ah reckon in ‘is time, ‘e wer considered a bit o’ a nutter an’ a trouble causer like - but ova t’ years since ‘is deeath, a lot o’ t’ answers ‘e cum up wi, ‘ave nah bin accepted as reight!”

“Turns aat ‘e wor a clever bugger atter aal” ah offers.

“Onnyroad” continued Joe, “Monny yeears later, sum ‘Professor Guth’ fra a university in Massachusetts, added ter sum o’ Einstein’s thinkin’. One particular thowatt o’ is own, wer that wen t’ universe wer created, theyer existed at that time like, ivverything needed  t’ create not jus’ one earth, ooer one universe – but multiples o’ same thing. So ‘e reckoned that sum wayer aat theyer, there is duplicates o’ us universe, us world, maybe even duplicates o’ thee an’ me.”

“Well, ah’ll go t’ foot o’ our stairs!” says Big Ron.

“Aye, an’ thats not aal” continued Joe. “Sum clever folks reckon that although ther may be ‘undreds o’ t’ same worlds occupyin’ a different time an’ space, they are aal connected sum ‘ow. An’ stuff like worm ‘oles can transport objects fra one ter t’ other an’ back agayen!”

“Nooooo!” says Big Ron.

“Aye, like t’ weather!” says Joe.

“Tis, not jus’ a theory, tis true!” ah says matter o’ factly. “Appen, jus’ be’ind mi washin’ machine theyer is a portal ter a parallel world in a parallel universe!”

“Gi ova!” says Big Ron, ‘is eyes openin’ wide wi intrigue.

“Aye” ah says. “Appen ah know this, coz ivvery time ah get mi washin’ aat, one o’ mi  socks ‘as gone missin’! Nivver a full paiyer, an’ nivver onny other item o’ clothin’, only ivver an odd sock. Ah reckon that in t’ parallel universe, ther is a parallel me oo keeps findin’ extra socks – MY socks – in ‘is chuffin’ parallel wash!”

“By eckers, ah’ve nivver ‘eard t’ like!” say Big Ron.

“Even mooare bizarre..” ah continued, “...at t’ exact moment a sock disappears fra mi washin’, a coat ‘anger materialises in mi bedroom. Not ‘ung up nicely in t’ wardrobe ooer owt sensible like that, but on mi bed ooer in t’ middle o’ t’ floor? Ah can’t fathom it at aal - but ah bet t’ parallel me is right dischuffed wi aal ‘is clothes endin’ up on t’ flooar aal t’ time. Maybe ‘e keeps ‘avin ter run aat ter a parallel Ikea ooer a parallel paand shop ter buy mooare, coz theyer certainly seems ter be no shortage o’ t’ buggers cumin’ through!”

“Well maybe ther’s a market f’ single socks on ‘is parallel world? Ooer maybe ‘e teks em daan ter market on a Thursday an exchanges ‘em f’ coat ‘angers?” says Joe ‘elpfully.

“Ooer theyer’s a lotta blokes wi only one leg?” added Big Ron.

We aal laughed - an’ tuk a few mooare swigs o’ us ale. Joe wer t’ furst ter break t’ reverie.

“As Mr Spock might ‘ave put it” ‘e says puttin’ daan ‘is empty glass, “there is a rift in t’ space-time continuum! An’ ah reckon it’s in mi bedroom!”

“A wot?” says Big Ron.

“Anuther kind o’ worm ‘ole” ah answered helpfully, adding, “Wot meks tha say that Joe?”

“Well” says Joe wi wonder in ‘is voice, “regularly, wen ah put summat daan, an’ then ‘appen ter glance away, wen ah look back agayen jus’ a moment later, t’ object’s disappeared. Like totally vanished into thin air! Poooof, gone! Nah this ‘ardly matters in t’ scheme o’ things wen it’s a stapler, ooer a pen. But appen it’s so annoyin’ wen it’s mi iPhone, wallet, ooer car keys! This normally results in me searchin’ t’ entire bedroom f’ abaat an hour an’ a half, checkin’ ivvery draw an cupboard, even under t’ bed. Ah get ter that point wayer ah’m jus’ abaat ter top mi sen in shear frustration, wen aal o’ a sudden, t’ missing item silently re-appears -  exactly in t’ place it wer supposed ter be, an’ exactly in t’ fust place ah ruddy looked! It’s as if things can pop in an’ aat o’ existence wen ivver they feel like it, wen mi back is turned.”

“Ah‘ve a little black pussy wot can do t’ same thing” ah says (as Joe gave me a funny look). “T’ vet says, she is part Siamese which means she’s naturally sneaky, but ah reckon she’s actually an alien capable o’ time-travelling between t’ parallel worlds!”

“Nah hang on a mo” says Big Ron – ignoring me coz ‘e’d bin listening intently ter Joe’s narrative, “if it’s t’ mobile phone wot’s gone missin’, shuerly tha can just ring it fra a land line?”

“Appen ah tried that!” says Joe. “Yet despite me normally ‘avin’ perfect reception wen at ‘ome, it seems that mi signal an’ mi Lynyrd Skynyrd ringtone, lose theyer way across t’ void betwixt universes. So aalthough ah can ‘ear it ringing in t’ earpiece o’ t’ land line phone ah’m callin’ fra, theyer is no tune bein’ broadcast onny wayer else in this ‘ere reality! O’ course wen t’ phone eventually re-materialises wayer it shud ‘ave bin aal along, it effortlessly displays t’ message ‘You have missed calls’.”

“Wen ah wer a nipper” ah says, “Ah read abaat aal these little people wot lived in us ‘ouses an’ borrowed things wi aat askin’. Believed in ‘em too. Sooart o’ explained why things allus went missin’ in our ‘ouse. Nah ah reckon its t’ parallel worlds rubbin’ up aginst each other, mekin’ things move fra one realm ter t’other.”

“It wud explain a lot!” says Joe thoughtfully. “Stuff allus went missin’ fra our ‘ouse too. Nivver t’ big things, jus’ ivverday little things - like new shoe laces fra t’ drawer, t’ torch ooer candles fra under t’ sink, spare batteries, dad’s condoms, that sooart o’ thing!”

“Dust tha think that’s ow we gets ear worms?” says big Ron.

“Fra condoms?” asked Joe incredulously.

“Ah reckon tha gets them fra tha sheep!”ah replies.

“Bloody wazzocks!” says Big Ron excitedly. “Ah meant t’ musical variety – tunes wot get stuck in tha head.”

“Ohhh”says Joe an’ me in unison.

“Ah woke up this morning singin’ T’ Fields O’ Athenry!”continued Big Ron.

“T’ fields o’ wot?” says Joe.

“"T’ Fields O’ Athenry! Tis a folk ballad set during t’ Great Irish Famine, 1845–1850” ah says sagely.  “Abaat a bloke called Michael fra near Athenry in County Galway oo wer sentenced ter transportation ter Botany Bay in Australia, f’ stealin’ food f’ ‘is starvin’ family. Tis a favourite wi owd folkies an’ Irish footy fans wot sing it as a sooart o’ anthem.”

“Oh reight” says Joe.

 “Well, ah dun’t watch onny football an’ dunt remember ‘earin’ it afore this mornin’ wen ah faand me sen singing it” said Big Ron doggedly. “Ah reckon ah shud ‘ardly kno t’ song nivver mind be able t’ sing it aal t’ way through wi aat a pause! Normally ah wudn’t mind too much – but it’s a really crap song!”

“So wot tha’s suggesting?” asked Joe.

 “Well maybe earworms are t’ result o’ ‘earin’ music fra a parallel world in us subconscious?” says Joe. “Wen t’ worlds brush agin one another – summat cums through like?”

“Aye, an maybe aal them new wire coat ‘angers amplify t’ signal an’ play ‘em to us whilst we're sleep!?” ah suggest.

“Well owt’s possible in this day an’ age” says Joe. 

“Oh aye!” ah says. “Abaaat as possible as thee gettin’ t’ next raand o’ drinks in!”

“Well ah wud” says Joe wi a smile on ‘is face. “But mi chuffin wallet’s gone missin’ agayen!”