My Conception Playlist
Music matters in more ways than you can possibly believe. Take, for instance, the scene in Barry Levinson’s brilliant movie Diner, where the group played by Steve Guttenberg, Daniel Stern, Mickey Rourke, and Kevin Bacon is arguing about whether Sinatra or Johnny Mathis is the best makeout music. Yes, even then young male reptilian minds knew the importance of the right music setting the mood for romance and beyond.
That got me thinking about my own origin story, so to speak. I’ve narrowed down my possible conception date to January 29th, 1954. It was a Friday night. It was also my Dad’s birthday.
If we could Tardis back to that time, what would we see? A small house on a back street in the teeming megapolis of Mercedes, Texas, the place of my birth in less than a year. It’s Friday night and a special occasion for a young couple who already have two puny waa-waas to show for their marriage in less than three years. After all, they were just following the prime directive from holy mother church who had instructed them to people the earth. At the time, my sister Tina had just turned two, and my brother Tom was almost six months old.
As for the magic moment, one can only assume the lights were turned down low. I know what they were drinking; bourbon--and probably bourbon and coke. That strong water prescription would never change. No doubt cigarettes were at the ready. But to complete the mood, temporary as it might be with two little ones waking up at any moment, what would the background music be? I’m hoping some kind of tunes were being played on a fuzzy warbles unit, or at least the radio when Mom and Dad were beginning my Beguine, doing the Timmy Ross Rumba, and coo-cooing in my conception conga line.
But what kind of music? I know Dad loved opera but I can’t see him putting on Wagner’s Ride of Valkyries to get busy with Mom. Too dramatic. Both parents loved folk music like the New Christy Minstrels. Even more so, Irish folk music like the Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem. Folk tunes would definitely work even though some were filled with sadness and protest. Then there was Mitch Miller. Dad loved his Mitch Miller. He even looked like Mitch with his crew cut and stylish goatee. But somehow, I think not. A dozen male voices belting out show tunes or drinking songs in unison might not be the right thing to set the mood.
In the end, I’ll never know. Even if they were both alive to tell the tale, I’m not sure they’d remember the events of a dark winter’s night 69 years ago. But I have a feeling that reality was a lot more mundane. After all, it was the end of a long work week for Dad, and Mom had spent that entire time dealing with two small kids. Odds are they just managed to get Tina and Tom to bed (and hopefully to sleep) and then had another drink or two accompanied by multiple smokes. Then they probably went to bed, had a young married tryst hopefully filled with romance and passion, and then promptly fell into an exhausted sleep. Or at least until Tina or Tom (or both) woke up.
Yes, that’s probably what happened. But I’d like to add my own byline to the script. After all, it’s my creation story. I’d like to think that the parents were able to hang for a bit on the couch after getting the kidlets into bed. And the lights were turned down low. No doubt bourbon would be there, not to mention the cigs. As for the tunes, I’m going with Sinatra over Johnny Mathis. I know Mathis was a crooner par excellence, but nobody has ever brought the goods like Frank. Yes, I’d want my conception play list to be an all-Sinatra affair despite the fact that some of Frank best tunes were recorded in the 60s. But hey, movies is magic. And it’s all castles burning anyway. With that, here’s my all-Sinatra conception playlist. I’d like to think that Mom and Dad would approve.
1. In the Wee Small Hours
2. Luck Be a Lady
3. Fly Me to the Moon
4. I Get a Kick Out of You
5. The Way You Look Tonight
6. I Only Have Eyes For You
7. You Make Me Feel So Young
8. Pennies From Heaven
9. I’ve Got You Under My Skin
10. Strangers in the Night
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I smiled all the way through your essay thinking of your mom and dad when they were young (and us, too! just kids, actually). And your home in Harlingen, Mitch Miller on TV, and kids, kids, kids running in and out of the house! Happy pandemonium. But one thing, though: I never knew you lived in Mercedes. What street?
Tim, I would add one item to your playlist: Sinatra's Night and Day. "Oh what a hungry yearning burning inside of me." If that doesn't do it, it ain't gonna happen.