So, in an alternate universe I would have been a film director… nah, maybe a producer. Or something, anything to do with movie-making. Not necessarily Hollywood, but you know what I mean. Maybe.

When I was a kid movies and TV weren’t just entertainment, they were an escape from my domestic situation, a safe place where anything was possible, far away from the hell that was my homelife.

One of the outstanding facets of movie influence in my life was the music, how it would be part of the story, how it enhanced a scene, filled in the blanks, changed mood or—if you were having trouble figuring out what was going on—served as the narration. Not just Debbie Reynolds belting out “Singing in the Rain,” but John Williams’ leitmotif for Darth Vader (“dum dum de dum, dum de dum, dum de dum”), the sexy saxophone sounds of “Harlem Noturne” introducing us to private investigator Mike Hammer, the brass fanfare accompanying Alec’s triumphant bareback ride along the seashore in The Black Stallion…

The list goes on.

(For the record, if I can't be Ethan, I wanna be Alec on that island with The Black. Carry on.)

I remember a couple of decades ago when Sony introduced the Walkman—this explanation is geared toward anyone under thirty, BTW lol!—an antique-ish device that played cassettes connected to headphones so you could listen to “the soundtrack of your life” throughout the day. Which I thought was a pretty good salespitch as I was always playing the soundtrack to my life in my car or wherever I went. I remember playing The Doors "The End" during a particularly hairy time in the desert. And one of the other guys cuing up Vanilla Ice’s "Ice Ice Baby" afterward during our dash back to our outpost. Good times. Mostly.

Flash forward to last year and I’m writing away on this little tale without knowing what I was doing or where I was going with it. The deeper I got into Ethan’s World, the more invested I became, I started hearing music in my noggin. That’s where I recognized that Ethan’s story was going to be—for me, at least—something special. I knew it was probably going to be the last cross-dressing story I ever wrote, so I wanted to make sure it would the best cross-dressing story I ever wrote. And that meant putting in some extra effort.

As I’ve said before, I write mostly for myself, to create something that I would want to go back and read again and again—narcissist that I am. And since I am not just a closeted cross-dresser, but a closeted film-maker, why not treat this thing I was making as a film. Or a TV show—whatever.

And so I added the music. As best I could. I think.

For fear of rambling along too much, I’ll just awkwardly drag up some examples and a bit of reflection on why I find all this worth writing about.

The first time we get music in Ethan’s World is during “Polka Dots and Secrets,” where DeeDee catches Ethan in his little polka dot top and panty set singing some nameless tune that echoes the girl groups of the 1960s. I was reluctant to use any existing songs ‘cuz I didn’t wanna draw too much attention (like I’m gonna get sued for this?) so I made up some words and they kinda worked:

🎵 My baby says he loves me, and I believe it’s true… 🎶

🎶 He calls me sugar-darlin’ and says there’s no one new… 🎵

I was thinking The Supremes or the Ronettes or even Martha and the Vandellas. The kinds of things DeeDee and Colleen would gravitate to and a kid like Ethan would find appealing.

Later in the story I wanted to echo that classic song, "Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polkadot Bikini" out of respect for the original artist, Brian Hyland (and not the Beach Boys, I have to keep reminding myself) so I fiddle-fudged around to make a semi-respectable clone. It was okay but it looked like I was looking over Brian’s (Hyland, not Wilson!) shoulder during study hall.

🎵 She giggles when they whistle, won’t come when they call… 🎶

🎶 My bikini baby is the belle of the ball! 🎵

Poetry and songwriting are obviously not my strong suit and I had a story to finish, so eventually I gave up trying to come up with something original for the end of the story. I decided to steal some lines from an old piece I love, “You Were On My Mind” by We Five. I fiddled with it a bit, turned the lines into “When I woke up this morning I was thinking of you…” which Ethan sings while he resumes cleaning house, his mother proudly watching on. Ironically, turns out my lyrics are in a hip-hop piece. Still, the melody in my head was from the 1960s, which comprises most all of the songs in Ethan’s World. That was the era that shaped my childhood, after all. For better or worse, I missed out on hip-hop. Think I’ll survive.

So the casual reader may think, meh, somebody put some songs in a cross-dressing story. So what? And to that I say, this isn’t just some simple fetish tale, or a story around trans-whatever. It's a story about a mixed up kid trying to figure his way in the world, discovering who he is and what he’s about, and maybe, just maybe becoming a hero. And us hearing him singing those songs, and listening to and dancing to all that music, gives us insight into who he is—even if he doesn’t know it yet—and how he thinks (ditto).

DeeDee’s dancing influences on him—showing him how to do that boob-shimmy, fer instance—are bonus points that pay off later in "Ethan Takes The Stage."

Speaking of which: For Ethan's scene from The Producers I forwent... forgone (?)... ignored the movie musical version... sorry, Uma, but that song just didn't do it for me. I much prefer the original film so Ethan does his sexy dance to the fictional masterpiece "Bialystock and Blume."

You're welcome.

I also want to add in something else here: there's this thing about the Proustian Effect, like when you add in things like descriptions of smells and sounds and taste and warmth and on and on. I probably overuse this when I mention the smell of lemons and starched cotton... and fear, of course. lol The same—IMHO—goes for sounds and music. In film and video that can be some random but crazy talented kid playing the banjo at a little shack in Deliverance or Howard Shore and his orchestra accompanying King Theoden leading the Rohirrim on the plains of the Pelennor. Again, IMHO.

In our... my?... case it’s not just using music to show how Ethan thinks, but to give texture to the world he lives in. In "Polishing Toward Perfection" he gets to ride in DeeDee’s Mustang (always a treat!) as a reward—and counterpoint—to sitting for his mani-pedi with his mother and aunt. Dani picks out Steppenwolf’s "Magic Carpet Ride," which I can attest to being the ideal piece to play when running over a hundred in a red Mustang on a quiet country road.

One of my favorite images from this whole story is Ethan sitting in the back seat of the Mustang, buckled in and seated-dancing to "Magic Carpet Ride," head bobbing, rabbit-ear bow bouncing, his face smiling so hard it hurts, Dani doing much the same, and the camera pulling back to show the red GT-500 speeding along, the V-8’s roar competing with psychedelic guitar riffs in the starlight.

Another similar scene takes place in The Day Everything Changed when DeeDee slams in a Beach Boys tape and takes the kids on an ice cream run in the Mustang. The image of them all singing “Go granny! Go granny! Go granny go!” as they fly past Smitty’s speed trap (because you know he’s gonna try to catch DeeDee, right?) makes me smile so hard my cheeks hurt as bad as Ethan's.

Steppenwolf makes a comeback in the final episode "All Things Come Together" when Ethan and Dani take the stage, performing the climatic dance sequence to "Born to be Wild." Dancing with the Stars be damned—every time I hear that piece on my car stereo I can see those two storming the stage, shaking their respective boobs and booties, Dani doing her acrobatics, the bright lights, crowd cheering, bringing joy and life and energy to everyone around them.

On a less dramatic note (pun not intended)... pop music isn’t the only way to make a point. When Vivian shows up to investigate this phenomenon called “Emily” in "Auntie Vivian, Part Deux," I wanted to give Ethan a secret weapon. Not something to destroy The Judge, but to throw her off balance and change her perspective—and eventually her opinion of him. Thus came Eric Satie’s "Gymnopedie."

I first heard that piece, ironically, on a Blood Sweat and Tears album, when I was about Ethan’s age. I was at orchestra camp and this quiet, subtle number burned itself into my little brain so much so that I still get the chills whenever I hear it. BS&T did it with flutes and brass, but if you lookitup on Youtube (I've provided some links) it’s usually on piano. Which made it (im)perfect for Ethan’s impromptu recital for his judgmental auntie.

When I go back to that scene it only makes more and more sense: Vivian the All-Powerful, The Judge, the eldest O’Brien sister, the Iron Maiden and steel-bladed stiletto wrapped in crimson silk… gets thrown off by her cross-dressed oddity of a nephew, nervous and vulnerable, quietly playing a modest, almost frail little melody composed by an eccentric French ne’er-do-well-in-his-lifetime artist who was about as messed up as Ethan thinks he is. Vivian has already got her verdict in hand, but upon hearing those first few notes, she’s in awe, her mental computer rebooted… and she’s forced to find a glass of brandy and reassess her vision of the world.

Off camera—so to speak—this piece has a special, secret value to Vivian, one which I suspect Colleen is privy to and uses to her and Ethan’s advantage. I sometimes think it might have something to do with Vivian’s deceased husband… or perhaps a lover in law school. Or even an errant career choice. Who knows?

Anyway, that, to me, is the power of a simple little piece of music. Even if it’s not actually heard, but read about on the written page. It adds more possibilities, fills in the blanks in the story… and maybe even raises more questions.

Go back, if you have the time, or inclination or curiosity, cue up Satie’s "Gymnopedie No. 1" and re-read that chapter. And let me know if I’m mistaken. Or just crazy. Or maybe both.

Whatever you think, I won’t disagree with you.

A few other fun pieces I put at the end of the novel: "Reach Out of the Darkness" by Friend & Lover (I think it’s so groovy now/that people are finally gettin’ together) and Louis Armstrong’s "What a Wonderful World," and Chuck Berry’s "You Never Can Tell" (stolen from the movie Pulp Fiction). The images those pieces evoke in me, the women and girls (and some boys) on stage, celebrating Colleen and Ethan’s new business venture; Niecy and the ballet dancers gliding across the stage like a flock of butterflies in pastel; DeeDee and Smitty living out their rock-a-billy dream; Ricky, of all people hamming it up like John Travolta and Uma Thurman’s spastic, joyful ginger lovechild.

Yeah, I like it. Don’t know if it works for anybody else, but it does for me.

So what about you, dear reader? Or, better yet, fellow writer? Does music (or the suggestion of it) on the written page add anything to these stories? Or to your own? Do your stories have a music soundtrack? Or maybe your life does? I am truly curious. This is my first time mentioning music in a story and it satisfied. Methinks that if I ever tackle another story or novel I’ll do it again. To me it’s no different than describing the sound of thunder, or a waterfall… or the smell of cookies baking… or the odor of something burning… aviation fuel (for DeeDee’s Mustang… lol!)... or your mom’s vintage perfume.

Okay, that’s enough for today. I’m getting tired and I want to start work on another essay tomorrow. I’m feeling better, still sleeping more than I used to. My wife used to tease me about staying up late and taking afternoon naps… now I’m going to bed early and still taking naps. But I’m getting better, for what that’s worth.

Thanks again for all your support. Cheers!

d.