What Can I Say?

Sometimes, you get a song stuck in your head. You sing it walking down the street. You sing it when you're alone. You even find yourself singing it when other songs are playing on the radio. A sad situation, yes, but not as sad as when you get just a line or two of a song stuck in your head. Then it's "you told me good-bye, how was I to know you didn't mean good-bye, you meant please don't let me go? I was having a high time, living the good life" all day long. Even more unfortunate, if you can stand to hear this, is when you get a word stuck in your head. Over and over the word twirls around your mind dancing with different meanings that you're not sure but think it could possibly work with. Then it settles on your tongue and you find yourself mouthing the word 3600 times an hour.
The last time I was afflicted with single word lodging was when I was doing a two-hour drive home from New Jersey. Gubernatorial somehow popped into my brain and I couldn't figure out what it meant. The more I mouthed it the more I realized how poppy and exciting it was to say. Gubernatorial stuck. Luckily, that was only a two hour affair--something I can't say about today's word.
Today's word was Schlumberger. Schlumberger Limited, the oilfield service company. You see, one Friday about a month ago, I traded some Schlumberger. That night my grandfather mentioned the company. Only, he pronounced the French owned and operated company "Schlumber-jhay," a far-cry from my American-sounding pronunciation: Schlumberger. And so all today whenever I had a free moment to think or wonder or daydream, all my brain would produce was, "Schlumberger, Schlumber-jhay, Schlumber-jhay? Schlumber-jhay...Schlumberger!" Etc.
It's been a long day.