Pause a moment, won’t you, and consider this comment on a Movieline story about how Barbarella ain’t gonna get remade after all, despite Robert Rodriguez’s devotion to new(ish) muse Rose McGowan:
“I was conceived to Barbarella. Calgary drive in. Late summer, 1969. Broken French condom.”
What an extraordinary thing to know about one’s own beginnings.
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Matthew, isn’t ‘extraordinary’ too strong a word? Any unplanned pregnancy that started when the parents made efforts to avoid it would be similarly extraordinary, wouldn’t it? For example, “Daddy and I thought my egg was past the point of viability – and now here you are!” Its not like Mom tried to abort the baby…MJH
NMN,
Actually, I think it would be pretty extraordinary to tell a child that as well. It’s not the unplanned pregnancy that’s extraordinary, it’s the level of detail surrounding the account of the conception. I think it’s an extraordinary thing to tell a child that you were actively trying to avoid his or her existence. And then, to give so much context seems to me insensitive in a powerful way.
The “TMI” gives me the willies. I’m content to know the name of the hospital where I was born. What was on the radio, served for dinner or imbided nine months previous is not needed. (Margaux Hemingway, anyone?)
Some context in the proper context might eventually be appropriate (e.g., after I was thirty one of my parents divulged that after six years of marriage they had pretty much come to accept that they would not be blessed with children. And then I arrived. It was interesting to know and helped me to better appreciate my parents. Maybe they should have told me earlier – like in my teens, when I thought I was so special that my parents had me ‘custom ordered.’ 🙂 )