When Worlds Collide 3

After nine years of marriage, yesterday I decided that it was probably safe to finish consolidating my 1 shelf-foot of vinyl records into Darling Husband's 14 (plus one hundred or so 45s). They're organized alphabetically by artist, which resulted in Miles Davis ("Bitches' Brew") nestling against Doris Day ("Greatest Hits"), something that I'm sure (I hope!) never happened in real life. I called out to Darling Child to expect an explosion in the record shelves, and why. His response: "Who's Doris Day?" Whereupon I played snippets of "When I Fall in Love" (which he naively thought would be the Beatles' "If I Fell") and "Whatever Will Be, Will Be." Whereupon Darling Child started gagging, and threatened to fall on the floor in a fit. So I've done my duty: Another generation has been scarred by "Que sera, sera!"

I started wondering how I could have married someone who even posseses a Doris Day album, but consoled myself that maybe it was a joke, or had belonged to his parents. The important thing, I kept telling myself, is that he also has two Fugs albums--which he even plays from time to time. To my surprise and relief, when I recounted the above incident to Darling Husband, he said, "I have a Doris Day album?"

Looks like we're good for another nine years.