JimmyCsays: At the juncture of journalism and daily life in KC

On days like this — housebound by heat, just hangin’ around — I often entertain myself by going to YouTube and listening to oldies. And being a hopeless romantic (and kid at heart), I tend to home in on some of those great droopy-drawers songs from the early ’60s.

Sometimes I start with one song in mind and then meander to others, finally settling on one.

Such was the way I landed on a great oldie by The Lettermen, “The Way You Look Tonight.”

Come along, trace my footsteps…

Several days ago, something triggered in my head the old song “I’ve Got Your Number.” I couldn’t quite remember who did it — or, more correctly, whose version was going through my head. A YouTube search revealed it to be Peggy Lee, who recorded it in 1964.

Fantastic song…Listen…I love the opening three lines…

I’ve got your number
I know you inside out
You ain’t no Eagle Scout

I listened to it several times, then a YouTube list of songs from the same era diverted my attention to Frank Sinatra’s version of “The Way You Look Tonight.”

If you’re a Baby Boomer, like me, that song could well have special appeal for you: It has a rich history of making many a Boomer swoon for a boy or girl…or ache for lack of one.

…I’ve said before that high school was the loneliest period of my life: I was a good Catholic boy, going to an all-boys prep school in Louisville, feeling the rush of desire for contact with girls but not having much idea where to find them or what to do on the rare occasion I did.

So, it mostly came down to longing and imagining. Lots of it. Sinatra’s version, upbeat, hints at it. But it’s The Lettermen’s version — syrupy, yes, but irresistible, at least for me — that grabs the heart and squeezes ’til it almost cries.

The song is imbued with a special magic partly because it was written by the great Jerome Kern (1885-1945), with lyrics by Dorothy Fields (1905-1974). Kern wrote it for the 1936 movie “Swing Time,” starring Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire.

In the movie, Astaire’s character, “Lucky” Garnett, sings the song to Rogers’ character, Penny Carroll, through a closed door, while Penny is washing her hair in the bathroom. You might wonder how that setting could be romantic, but check it out…

As good as Astaire’s original was, it was The Lettermen’s version that struck at the hearts of us Baby Boomers and our feelings of longing, inadequacy and uncertainty — or, perhaps, connection, or missed opportunity.

The Lettermen recorded it in 1961. It was their first big hit. I was either a freshman or sophomore in high school. The record climbed to No. 13 on the Billboard Hot 100 singles in the U.S. and to No. 36 in the United Kingdom. How it didn’t get to No. 1 in the U.S., I don’t know, probably because The Lettermen were unknown before then.

…I’m not alone in the powerful emotions the song triggers. The proof is in the scores of comments written on the YouTube pages that feature The Lettermen’s version.

Here’s a sample…

Topaz Dupree (one year ago): My husband and I were married September 30, 1961. We stopped at a diner that evening for a snack, and he played this song over and over on the jukebox. It’s a very special memory.

Tandy Warwick (four years ago): I have great memories of this song (from) 12-31-70. I was dancing with my first love that night and to this song, and even though we’re not together any more, this one song plays in my head each New Year’s Eve.

Reg Dunlop (two years ago): Dancing cheek to cheek.

J. Puglisi (two years ago): Finally a slow song. I’m gonna ask her to dance.

Michael Hickey (one year ago, writing in response to Puglisi): I did, she was my first love and I think of her often to this day.

Frank Oakes (one year ago): This recording, I am sure, brought along my 3rd child. Dancing with my wife…Oh, my.

Chuck Ranker (two years ago): Married in 1965 and lost her July 2012. Will never recover but it’s OK.

Terilynn Wells (one year ago): Washing your hair, setting it on horrible brush curlers; sitting under a dryer with a hood, painting your nails with Revlon’s “Hot Pink”; then teasing the crap out of it, spraying it, putting on a Bobbie Brooks outfit…It all went to pieces — JFK’s trip to Dallas in in Nov. ’63, then Vietnam.”

Tim Drumm (five months ago): Brother, did these guys ever — truly — capture the phenomenal story line, the motion of love, in this classic.

Ah, yes, the motion of love. Listen. Feel it… 

Keep that breathless charm.
Won’t you please arrange it
Cause I love you…just the way you look tonight.