RAY GALINDO: THE NAME I WASN'T BORN WITH
PART ONE
1942
September 10: Sylvia Galindo is born. She will become Ray's mother.
1958 | Age 15–16
Sylvia becomes pregnant with Ray.
According to Sylvia's later account, the father is Eddie Mercado, a married bartender with four children.
Eddie tells Sylvia to get an abortion. According to the family story, he subsequently proposes that Juan A. Ruiz, a man who owes Eddie money from gambling, marry Sylvia so the child will have a father's name.
Sylvia marries Juan Ruiz.
While setting up their apartment, Sylvia discovers that Juan is already married to another woman in Washington State. She throws him out. The marriage is later annulled.
1959 | Age 0
September 3: Raymond Ruiz is born in the Bronx, New York City.
His birth certificate identifies Sylvia Galindo as his mother and Juan A. Ruiz as his father, although Sylvia later tells Ray that Eddie Mercado is his biological father.
Approximately age 0–1: Ray sees his maternal grandfather, Ramon Galindo, once as an infant. Ramon arrives at the family's apartment carrying gifts. Sylvia, who has a deeply hostile relationship with her father, throws him out.
Ray's later childhood memory of this event remains unusually vivid.
Let's go all the way back. Before the music. Before Space Devils. Before The New World. Before Ray Galindo. Who were you when you came into the world?
My name is Ray Galindo. I was actually born Raymond Ruiz on September 3, 1959, in the Bronx.
Raymond Ruiz.
Yeah. That's what it says on the birth certificate. Sylvia Galindo, my mother. Juan A. Ruiz, my father.
Except Juan Ruiz wasn't your father.
No. I didn't find that out until I was about thirty-two.
How did you find out?
My mother told me. We were drinking Martinis.
Martinis?
Yeah. [laughs] That's when she decided to tell me.
That's one hell of a way to introduce somebody to their biological father.
Well, my mother wasn't exactly sitting me down with a family Bible.
So who was your father?
Eddie Mercado.
And who was Juan Ruiz?
A guy my mother barely knew. Apparently he was a chauffeur. Eddie knew him because Juan owed him money. Gambling debt.
Wait. Your mother's pregnant with you, Eddie doesn't want the kid, and the solution is to have a guy who owes him gambling money marry her
That's what my mother told me.
Why would Juan agree to that?
Eddie offered to forgive the debt.
In exchange for marrying your mother?
Yeah. So the kid could have a name.
And the kid was you.
Yeah.
What happened?
They got married. They were setting up their apartment. My mother found Juan's marriage license to another woman in Washington State.
He was already married?
Yeah.
What did your mother do?
Threw him out.
And the marriage?
Annulled.
But you were still Raymond Ruiz.
Exactly.
So you spent thirty-two years carrying the name of a man who wasn't your father, without knowing why you had the name.
That's right.
And then your mother tells you over Martinis that Eddie Mercado is your father.
Yeah.
What did you feel?
That's something I'll have to tell you about later.
Fair enough. But let's go back even further. Who was Ramon Galindo?
My grandfather. My mother's father.
Musician?
Trumpet player. He played in dance bands during World War II.
So there was already a musician in the family.
Yeah.
Did you know him?
No. But I was told I looked like him.
You did meet him once, though.
Once. I was in my crib.
You remember that?
I remember him showing up at our apartment with an armful of gifts for me.
And?
My mother threw him out.
Why?
She hated him. She said something like, "You were never a father to me and now you want me to welcome you into this house to be grandfather to my son? Get the fuck out."
And you're telling me you remember that from when you were a year old or less?
Vividly.
That's an extraordinary memory.
I know.
And then, years later, you chose his name.
Yeah.
You became Ray Galindo.
Yeah.
So the first Galindo you knew was a man your mother wouldn't let into the house.
That's right.
And the man whose name you were born with wasn't your father.
Right.
And the man who actually was your father rejected you.
Right.
So eventually you picked your own name.
Exactly.
That's quite a beginning.
That's only the beginning.
So when did you first realize that your family had been keeping this enormous secret from you?
I didn't. That's the point.
PART TWO
1960 | Age 1
The Chubby Checker version of “The Twist” becomes a major hit.
According to Mama, whenever the song came on the radio, young Ray would yell:
“Come on, Mama, let's do the Twist!”
This is a family recollection, not a memory Ray can independently verify.
1961–1962 | Age 2–3
Early childhood.
Ray's maternal grandmother, whom he will always call Mama, is an important figure in his upbringing and later becomes a major source of family stories.
So according to my grandmother, I was already feeling the music when I was in my crib. Chubby Checker's The Twist was a hit when I was a baby. My Grandmother, Mama from now on, told me that when the Twist came on the radio, I would yell, come on, Mama let's do the Twist!
INTERVIEWER: Now wait a minute. You were still in the crib, and you're telling me you were already requesting songs?
RAY: According to Mama, yeah.
INTERVIEWER: Mama being your grandmother.
RAY: Right. That's what I called her. From now on, she's Mama.
INTERVIEWER: And what song was apparently causing this musical awakening?
RAY: The Twist.
INTERVIEWER: Chubby Checker.
RAY: Chubby Checker.
INTERVIEWER: Which was a hit when you were a baby.
RAY: Yeah. Mama said whenever The Twist came on the radio, I'd yell, “Come on, Mama, let's do the Twist!”
INTERVIEWER: You were in a crib.
RAY: I know.
INTERVIEWER: You couldn't actually do the Twist.
RAY: Apparently that didn't stop me from demanding that Mama do it.
INTERVIEWER: So according to family legend, the first musical direction you ever gave another human being was a dance command.
RAY: [laughs] Apparently.
INTERVIEWER: That's pretty good, Ray.
RAY: It gets better. Mama was a funny lady.
INTERVIEWER: We've established that.
RAY: So I don't know how literally I should take all of this.
INTERVIEWER: That's important. You're not saying you personally remember yelling that from the crib.
RAY: No. Mama told me.
INTERVIEWER: So we have to put this in the category of family testimony.
RAY: Exactly.
INTERVIEWER: But if it's true, there's something almost suspiciously appropriate about it.
RAY: What?
INTERVIEWER: Your life eventually becomes music. You write songs for fifty years. You build Space Devils. You create an entire musical universe. And according to Mama, the first sign was you sitting in your crib yelling for Chubby Checker.
RAY: [laughs] Yeah.
INTERVIEWER: Maybe the songwriter didn't arrive in 1976.
RAY: Maybe he was already there.
INTERVIEWER: In diapers.
RAY: In diapers.
INTERVIEWER: Demanding The Twist.
RAY: That's the story.
INTERVIEWER: Then I think we should keep it.
RAY: Definitely.
INTERVIEWER: Because there's another reason it's useful. We're going to be hearing a lot of stories about the person you became. This is one of the earliest stories about the person you apparently already were.
RAY: A music lover in a crib.
INTERVIEWER: Or at minimum, a very demanding dance instructor.
RAY: That's Mama's version. 😂
INTERVIEWER: Now wait a minute. You were still in the crib, and you're telling me you were already requesting songs?
RAY: According to Mama, yeah.
INTERVIEWER: Mama being your grandmother.
RAY: Right. That's what I called her. From now on, she's Mama.
INTERVIEWER: And what song was apparently causing this musical awakening?
RAY: The Twist.
INTERVIEWER: Chubby Checker.
RAY: Chubby Checker.
INTERVIEWER: Which was a hit when you were a baby.
RAY: Yeah. Mama said whenever The Twist came on the radio, I'd yell, “Come on, Mama, let's do the Twist!”
INTERVIEWER: You were in a crib.
RAY: I know.
INTERVIEWER: You couldn't actually do the Twist.
RAY: Apparently that didn't stop me from demanding that Mama do it.
INTERVIEWER: So according to family legend, the first musical direction you ever gave another human being was a dance command.
RAY: [laughs] Apparently.
INTERVIEWER: That's pretty good, Ray.
RAY: It gets better. Mama was a funny lady.
INTERVIEWER: We've established that.
RAY: So I don't know how literally I should take all of this.
INTERVIEWER: That's important. You're not saying you personally remember yelling that from the crib.
RAY: No. Mama told me.
INTERVIEWER: So we have to put this in the category of family testimony.
RAY: Exactly.
INTERVIEWER: But if it's true, there's something almost suspiciously appropriate about it.
RAY: What?
INTERVIEWER: Your life eventually becomes music. You write songs for fifty years. You build Space Devils. You create an entire musical universe. And according to Mama, the first sign was you sitting in your crib yelling for Chubby Checker.
RAY: [laughs] Yeah.
INTERVIEWER: Maybe the songwriter didn't arrive in 1976.
RAY: Maybe he was already there.
INTERVIEWER: In diapers.
RAY: In diapers.
INTERVIEWER: Demanding The Twist.
RAY: That's the story.
INTERVIEWER: Then I think we should keep it.
RAY: Definitely.
INTERVIEWER: Because there's another reason it's useful. We're going to be hearing a lot of stories about the person you became. This is one of the earliest stories about the person you apparently already were.
RAY: A music lover in a crib.
INTERVIEWER: Or at minimum, a very demanding dance instructor.
RAY: That's Mama's version. 😂
So Mama may have been telling us you were dancing to Chubby Checker in your crib, but what was your mother actually playing around the house?
She wasn't really into rock and roll. And she wasn't particularly into Latin music either.
Interesting, considering the people she'd known.
Yeah. She knew all these musicians, but that didn't necessarily mean that was what she listened to at home.
So what did she play?
Dean Martin. Johnny Mathis. Perry Como. Andy Williams. Tom Jones. Englebert Humperdinck. Steve and Eydie. Sergio Mendes and Brasil '66. She also liked The New Seekers - especially There's A New World Somewhere.
That's a pretty different musical universe from the one you eventually inhabited.
Yeah. She had a nice singing voice, too.
Did she sing around the house?
I remember her singing. And I remember one particular song.
Which one?
Eleanor Rigby.
The Beatles.
Yeah.
But your mother wasn't a Beatles fan.
No.
How did Eleanor Rigby get into the house?
I don't remember exactly. But I heard it and liked it. I sang the opening to her.
What did you sing?
“Ahh, look at all the lonely people…”
And you sang it correctly?
No. [laughs] I sang it wrong.
And your mother corrected you.
Yeah.
That's interesting. She wasn't a Beatles fan, but she knew the words.
She knew the song.
And you were drawn to it.
Yeah.
Do you remember what it was about the song that grabbed you?
Not really. I just liked it.
That's probably worth remembering. You didn't need your mother to be a Beatles fan to discover the Beatles. You heard something, it caught you, and you wanted to sing it.
Right.
And she corrected you.
Yeah.
Which means one of your earliest musical memories is not just hearing a song. It's singing a song and having somebody teach you the words.
RAY: Actually, the correct melody
And eventually you're going to spend your life worrying about words.
[laughs] Yeah.
Lyrics, specifically.
Yeah.
So we've got Chubby Checker in the crib, your mother singing Dean Martin and Johnny Mathis, Sergio Mendes on the turntable, and a little kid trying to sing Eleanor Rigby.
That's pretty much it.
That's a pretty interesting musical nursery.
Yeah. And I haven't even gotten to The Beatles really hitting me yet.
You mentioned that before music really took hold, you had other ambitions.
Plenty of them. I wanted to be a baseball player.
A natural choice, considering your grandmother's brother was nicknamed Babe.
Yeah. His name was Cipriano Montesino, or John. Everybody called him Babe because he was a baseball fanatic.
And you were interested in baseball yourself?
RAY: Very much. Before I got interested in music, I wanted to be a baseball player when I grew up.
Only baseball?
No. [laughs] I wanted to be a soldier. An astronaut. A secret agent.
And Jughead.
Yeah. Jughead from Archie.
INTERVIEWER: That's quite a career plan.
RAY: I had options.
INTERVIEWER: And then there was Uncle Babe.
RAY: He played guitar.
INTERVIEWER: Was he a serious guitarist?
RAY: No. He knew three chords and two songs.
INTERVIEWER: Which songs?
RAY: Your Cheatin' Heart and Lucille.
INTERVIEWER: And those were your first songs?
RAY: The first songs I learned to play, yeah.
INTERVIEWER: What were the three chords?
RAY: I remember them as the three chords he taught me, but I don't want to pretend I can reconstruct every detail from memory.
INTERVIEWER: Fair enough. What I find more interesting is how he played.
RAY: He had half of his right thumb accidentally cut off.
INTERVIEWER: How?
RAY: His brother, my Uncle Frankie, cut it off accidentally when they were kids.
INTERVIEWER: How does that happen?
RAY: They were chasing a butterfly with an axe.
INTERVIEWER: ...
RAY: [laughs]
INTERVIEWER: I'm sorry. They were doing what?
RAY: Chasing a butterfly with an axe.
INTERVIEWER: I'm going to need a moment with that one.
RAY: That's the story.
INTERVIEWER: And Babe survived this butterfly-hunting expedition with half his thumb missing.
RAY: Yeah.
INTERVIEWER: And then he learned guitar.
RAY: Yeah. He played with one of those thumb picks.
INTERVIEWER: And that thumb pick became important to you.
RAY: It was the first kind of pick I ever used.
INTERVIEWER: So Uncle Babe taught you three chords, two songs, and how to use a thumb pick.
RAY: That's right.
INTERVIEWER: That's a pretty modest musical education.
RAY: It was.
INTERVIEWER: But it was enough to get the ball rolling.
RAY: Yeah.
INTERVIEWER: There's something I like about that story. You didn't start out with some grand musical education. You had a relative who knew three chords and two songs, played guitar with a partially amputated thumb, and taught a kid the basics.
RAY: That's how it started.
INTERVIEWER: And before that kid became a songwriter, he wanted to be Babe Ruth, a soldier, an astronaut, a secret agent and Jughead.
RAY: Pretty much.
INTERVIEWER: So perhaps the first real career change was from Jughead to guitarist.
RAY: [laughs] I guess so.
INTERVIEWER: And you still remember the thumb pick.
RAY: Yeah.
INTERVIEWER: Then that's an important object in the story. Not because it was an expensive piece of equipment. Because it was the first pick you ever used.
RAY: Exactly.
INTERVIEWER: And somewhere between Your Cheatin' Heart, Lucille, three chords and a butterfly, Ray Galindo's musical life had begun. 🎸
INTERVIEWER: You mentioned that before music really took hold, you had other ambitions.
RAY: Plenty of them. I wanted to be a baseball player.
INTERVIEWER: A natural choice, considering your grandmother's brother was nicknamed Babe.
RAY: Yeah. His name was Cipriano Montesino, or John. Everybody called him Babe because he was a baseball fanatic.
INTERVIEWER: And you were interested in baseball yourself?
RAY: Very much. Before I got interested in music, I wanted to be a baseball player when I grew up.
INTERVIEWER: Only baseball?
RAY: No. [laughs] I wanted to be a soldier. An astronaut. A secret agent.
INTERVIEWER: And Jughead.
RAY: Yeah. Jughead from Archie.
INTERVIEWER: That's quite a career plan.
RAY: I had options.
INTERVIEWER: And then there was Uncle Babe.
RAY: He played guitar.
INTERVIEWER: Was he a serious guitarist?
RAY: No. He knew three chords and two songs.
INTERVIEWER: Which songs?
RAY: Your Cheatin' Heart and Lucille.
INTERVIEWER: And those were your first songs?
RAY: The first songs I learned to play, yeah.
INTERVIEWER: What were the three chords?
RAY: I remember them as the three chords he taught me, but I don't want to pretend I can reconstruct every detail from memory.
INTERVIEWER: Fair enough. What I find more interesting is how he played.
RAY: He had half of his right thumb accidentally cut off.
INTERVIEWER: How?
RAY: His brother, my Uncle Frankie, cut it off accidentally when they were kids.
INTERVIEWER: How does that happen?
RAY: They were chasing a butterfly with an axe.
INTERVIEWER: ...
RAY: [laughs]
INTERVIEWER: I'm sorry. They were doing what?
RAY: Chasing a butterfly with an axe.
INTERVIEWER: I'm going to need a moment with that one.
RAY: That's the story.
INTERVIEWER: And Babe survived this butterfly-hunting expedition with half his thumb missing.
RAY: Yeah.
INTERVIEWER: And then he learned guitar.
RAY: Yeah. He played with one of those thumb picks.
INTERVIEWER: And that thumb pick became important to you.
RAY: It was the first kind of pick I ever used.
INTERVIEWER: So Uncle Babe taught you three chords, two songs, and how to use a thumb pick.
RAY: That's right.
INTERVIEWER: That's a pretty modest musical education.
RAY: It was.
INTERVIEWER: But it was enough to get the ball rolling.
RAY: Yeah.
INTERVIEWER: There's something I like about that story. You didn't start out with some grand musical education. You had a relative who knew three chords and two songs, played guitar with a partially amputated thumb, and taught a kid the basics.
RAY: That's how it started.
INTERVIEWER: And before that kid became a songwriter, he wanted to be Babe Ruth, a soldier, an astronaut, a secret agent and Jughead.
RAY: Pretty much.
INTERVIEWER: So perhaps the first real career change was from Jughead to guitarist.
RAY: [laughs] I guess so.
INTERVIEWER: And you still remember the thumb pick.
RAY: Yeah.
INTERVIEWER: Then that's an important object in the story. Not because it was an expensive piece of equipment. Because it was the first pick you ever used.
RAY: Exactly.
INTERVIEWER: And somewhere between Your Cheatin' Heart, Lucille, three chords and a butterfly, Ray Galindo's musical life had begun. 🎸
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