Could be we're all similarly afflicted, but don't get out much.
See Lowell George "Dixie Chicken" for reference.
"Then one night in the lobby of the Commodore Hotel
I chanced to meet a bartender who said he knew her well
And as he handed me a drink he began to hum a song
And all the boys there, at the bar, began to sign along
If you'll be my dixie chicken, I'll be your Tenessee lamb
And we can walk together down in Dixieland..."