I’ve struggled to know exactly where to start with this one. Do I just talk about the song selection? Do I explain the playlist? Perhaps I should start with the Rougaroux.
Long before I became a grandfather, even before my children were married, I had already started working on the nicknames I would give to my grandchildren. My philosophy was this: their parents would be the ones who got to choose the names, but their grandparents should be able to choose their nicknames. In an effort to humor a clearly delusional man in what might have been a mid-life crisis, everyone just went along with it. As an homage to my love for all things Louisiana and New Orleans, I determined that all of the nicknames would follow this theme. When the time came to expect our first little one, I had narrowed it down to three choices: Boudain, Boudreaux, and Tujague, but for some reason none of them “clicked” with me. It was only when I saw my grandson for the first time that I knew who he was….the Rougaroux.
In Louisiana folklore, the Rougarou is essentially a Cajun werewolf. There are various spellings (Rougarou, Rugaru, etc), but they are all descended from the French loup garou. Loup = wolf and garou = a person who turns into an animal. In the Cajun legends, the creature is said to prowl the swamps around Acadiana and Greater New Orleans, and the sugar cane fields and woodlands of the regions.[citation needed] The rougarou most often is described as a creature with a human body and the head of a wolf or dog, similar to the werewolf legend. Often the story-telling has been used to inspire fear and obedience. One such example is stories that have been told by elders to persuade Cajun children to behave. Think of the Rougarou as the Cajun version of the stories we were told about the Boogie Man or the Bell Witch or Bloody Mary. When our grandson was born he was 6 weeks premature, so he was still covered with what doctors call “lanugo”, which is a soft, fine hair covering a baby’s body in utero. He also could howl pretty loud for such a little fella, and being faced with the sudden reality that I was now a grandfather, was a bit terrifying. I took one look at him with all of these sights, sounds, and feelings running through my body, and it was apparent he would be called Rougarou.
Our spelling is a bit personalized. When making a gumbo, the first thing you do is make a roux (equal parts fat and starch, cooked together to give flavor and serve as a thickening agent. Our little ‘Roux was the first one to make me a Gumbo (my grandfather name), thus our Rougaroux was born.
So, there is the Rougaroux part, now let’s get into this playlist. Another thing that predated the actual birth of my grandchildren, was the creation of a Spotify playlist in their honor. Music has always played a huge role in my life and in our home so it’s no surprise that it would also be front and center with my grandchildren. The playlist serves a few purposes. I put songs on the playlist that I want to share with them. Songs that have a message I consider important or meaningful, or just fun. When we are together I like to play their playlist so that they are familiar with them as they are growing up. Some of the songs contain messages that I want to pass along to them, kind of a piece of advice, suggestion or reminder from their Gumbo. I hope that one day, in the far off future when I’m gone, they will still have these songs that are “our” songs; music they can listen to and feel close to a loved one long gone. Now you know the reason for Rougaroux and the purpose for the playlist, so let’s talk about the meaning in the music.
The first song I put in the playlist for Roux was “I Love…” by Tom T. Hall. Tom T. Hall is one of my favorite songwriters and country music performers of all time, and while there are many songs I love, this was the first one I thought of when putting together a playlist for my grandson. If you aren’t familiar with the lyrics:
I Love little baby ducks, old pick-up trucks
Slow movin' trains and rain, I love little country streams
Sleep without dreams, Sunday school in May and hay
And I love you too
I Love leaves in the wind, pictures of my friends
Birds of the world and squirrels, I love coffee in a cup
Little fuzzy pups, bourbon in a glass and grass
And I love you too
I Love honest open smiles, kisses from a child
Tomatoes on the vine and onions, I love winners when they cry
Losers when they try, music when it's good and life
And I love you too
A huge part of the songs that I pick for my grandchildren playlists is the desire for them to know who I am. Looking back at my own grandfathers, I realize that I never really knew them. I knew a version of them, the “them” that they were with me, but I now realize I never knew who they were before they were a grandfather. People are complex and multifaceted, yet we tend to reduce them to one simple thing: parent, grandparent, etc. As a near fifty year old man myself, I’d love to know their deepest thoughts, fears, joys, lessons learned, and outlook on life. Undoubtably, my grandchildren will one day have this same revelation about me, but I hope the breadcrumbs I leave behind — my writings, my sermons, these playlists — will serve as a roadmap to me, should they want to make that journey.
What better way to start them on this journey than to tell them about simple things that I love, and to remind them, that I love them too.
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