When a song captures you and demands ransom.

I've been getting more into hockey lately. Seattle is due to get a National Hockey League team in 2020, which is pretty exciting, and currently we're in the midst of a riveting Stanley Cup series between the Boston Bruins and St. Louis Blues.

By the way, did you know that the 1917 Seattle Metropolitans are the first U.S.-based hockey squad to win Lord Stanley's silver chalice? It's true—they defeated the Montreal Canadians 3-1. It all went down in an era prior to air travel or antibiotics, yet only three short years prior to the birth of America's premier cannabis-inspired confection: the Hostess Ho-Ho.

The Blues are the sentimental favorite to take home the cup. It's their first trip to the finals since 1970, and they're the longest-living NHL franchise to have never won it. Just to cement this year's team even further into its underdog legend, St. Louis was dead last in early January. And I don't mean dead last in their division, I'm talking a basement residence in the entire 31-team league!

During those dark winter days, a small group of Blues players discovered over beers their mutual adoration for a song that went platinum in 1982 and stayed in the Billboard Top 100 for 36 weeks: "Gloria" by Laura Branigan. Familiar with it? If not, here it is in all its lip-synced gloria:



After a come-from-behind win over the Florida Panthers, one of the boys decided to blast the hyper-catchy tune in the Blues locker room and the team went crazy. After that, it could be heard following wins in Tampa Bay and Nashville, and before you could say "towel snap," a tradition was born. Now, with every victory that propels the team closer to the holy grail, you can count on the catchy number being belted out everywhere from the club locker room to the Angry Beaver sports bar at Gratiot and South Broadway.

Okay, I love "Gloria," I really do. In fact, I dug that song so much in college that I bought her whole cassette. Must have cost at least eight bucks.

But holy shit, during my half-century plus on the big blue marble, no greater melody exists that can establish residence in my posterior grey matter and take out a 30-year fixed. It's consumed entire fortnights in my brain. Sweet lord, how many mornings have I awakened only to find Gloria still lying beside me, telling me she'll be happy to serenade me while I get up and pee.

Before you continue with this list of my top ten song-worm-inducing ditties, I must warn you, any one of these may trigger hours-long loops in your own mind. Please read with caution. I would encourage you to follow up with a cleansing rendition of "Happy Birthday," then proceed with your day, tune-tumor-free.

10) "Afternoon Delight":



Whether performed by Will Ferrell or Starland Vocal Band, good luck purging this little nasty from your constitution.

9) "Wheels on the Bus": I don't think we need a video for this, do we? I can remember coming up with so many ludicrous contents on that GD bus just trying to keep my toddler from falling asleep in the car so she could take a proper nap at home. I'm not aware of any official lyrics past the first verse.

8) "Living on a Prayer":



Sure, it's a good song, and gee whiz, isn't that JBJ just the cutest little wookie you've ever seen? For Pete's sake, don't you just want to tuck them all in and tweak their shiny little noses? Yeah, I don't after spending a good long weekend living and living and living on a prayer.

7) "Lightning Crashes":



This is the lone song that I don't grow tired of, just because it brings back such powerful memories of when my first daughter was born. It was on the radio and MTV constantly during that spring of 1995, and it became the soundtrack of the most profound life-change I'd ever experienced.

6) "My Mommy's Coming Back (She Always Comes Back)": And so did this evil song. Chances are that you haven't heard it, so count yourself lucky. It's the demonic polar opposite of of "Lightning Crashes," encouraging small children not to despair when they're hastily dumped off at daycare. It'll stick with you like a dynamically-fed programmatic online ad.

5) "Umbrella":



Hella, hella, hella, hella, annoying!

4) "Don't Stop Believin'": Streetlights, people, oh noooooooo!

3) "Time to Change":



Okay, this was most definitely a wonderful way to make a pubescent Peter feel included, but no amount of go-go boots and hippie fringe can compensate for this rhythmically-deficient gaggle of honky tots.

2) "It's a Small World After All": Wait, never mind, this is just too cruel to even mention by name. Oh, too late? Sorry.

1) "Total Eclipse of the Heart":



Turn around, bright eyes. Every now and then I want to gouge my eyes out with a Craftsman® brand screwdriver. Nothing I can do.

Wow, congratulations! You made it through this ten-part minefield of musical torment. If I were you, I'd read a magazine or something.