There was a time before I was 10 years old that the only place I ever wanted to be was this dumpy little historic park next to the waste processing plant because it had this incredible twisty slide on it, something that made this place way cooler than any other playground I had access to.
Back in the mid 80s playgrounds were a joke. Not at all like they are today. Swings, a straight metal slide (boring), maybe a merry go round, and if you’re really lucky a jungle gym. But Magnus Park, for whatever reason, had this great yellow plastic modern twisty slide, and it was the biggest thrill I had at that age.
Once in a blue moon my mom would get us lunch from Cormacks Deli and take us to the twisty slide and eat it, and to this day it’s my favorite memory from that era of my life- or rather the time I remember being the happiest.
That deli, sadly, is closing its doors for good in a couple months after being in business for 40 or so years.
The exact same sandwich I would get back then, I could still get today. Turkey on a white roll with lettuce, cheese, and some kind of miracle whip like dressing. The place is extremely popular, and they have infinity varieties of sandwiches, but the owners have to be in their 80s by now, and until now have both worked full time (husband and wife).
After hearing they were closing soon I went in for a sandwich, and neither of them were there. I suspect someone finally broke down. And sadly with small businesses, once the owner goes the business usually follows. When people say “corporations are people” I tend to scoff, but if they said “small businesses are people” instead, I’d have to agree.
The loss of the deli, and specifically our beloved Turkey Sandwich, is particularly hard on my autistic brother who has not once in his entire life tried a different item on that menu. It’s the sandwich my mother randomly ordered for him first, and that’s what he has stuck with ever since.
So much that it’s become a sort of meme for his tendency to never, ever, EVER, try new things. It’s “Turkey Sandwich” all day, every day. Something I’ve pondered a lot, as someone with similar tendencies- the root psychology and pathology of “Turkey Sandwich” syndrome. My grandpa would call it “being stuck in a rut,” but I think there’s more to it.
I’ve been thinking about it in the context of music theory, to the extent that music is isomorphic with thoughts and feelings and even complicated systems therein, including pathologies. A song is typically a verse, a chorus, another verse slightly different in lyric but the same in music, and another chorus, the same as the first- then the bridge, which is completely different from the rest of the song, and then finally a final verse, and a final chorus to circle back to the beginning and tie it all together.
There is something about the repetition of the verse music and chorus, like many things, that has a couple specific effects on the psyche. First, it makes us used to it. Bored with it, even. Like a rut in a trail carved from repetitive footfalls in the same spot. The second thing it does, which we discover during the bridge- when we can no longer take it for granted, is that while we were bored with it while it was here, we miss it when it is gone.
That rut, once carved, yearns for the feet that carved it once they depart. This catches us off guard I think. It’s what makes some song bridges so uncomfortable and off putting sometimes. I think this can be said for a lot of things- almost anything. Including aspects of abuse- the chemical highs and lows. Like it’s more important that things be familiar than necessarily beneficial.
Which is why that last verse and chorus hits so hard after a long meandering bridge- after we have begun to wonder if it was going to come back at all. I call it the “delayed gratification bridge,” much like the time between Cormack’s deli visits for my brother, all it does is charge a yearning for the familiar that preceded it.
I’m going to list a few songs I know that utilize this mechanic. If you know of any others, drop them:
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