Bob Dorough

The great Bob Dorough died today (you can read his New York Times obituary here) & I was lucky I was on the radio this morning so I could play one of his songs.  & not just any song: I played Three Is A Magic Number, the first song he wrote for what would become Schoolhouse Rock.

It's hard to overstate the effect that those songs & cartoons had on me as a child.  I was an avid watcher of Saturday Morning television, & I would put my mother's cassette tape recorder up to the little black & white television we had to record the songs (videotaping would have seemed like crazy science fiction to me) to listen to over & over.  In first grade (or maybe second), I mentioned to my teacher that I recorded them, & she asked me to bring them up to play to the class; I remember being embarrassed because I would read the little credit at the end of the cartoon, whether it was "grammar rock" or "science rock" or "multiplication rock."  The class laughed when they heard my voice on the tape.

How incredibly serendipitous that a man like Bob Dorough - a true lover of music - & a clever songwriter himself - came to not only write many of the songs, but shepherded them as Music Director for the project.  He brought in old friends like Blossom Dearie to sing some of the tunes, & the styles were diverse & mesmerizing.  I can't speak to any real knowledge about psychology, but I am willing to surmise that my own often unwieldy taste in many kinds of music may have its roots in the genres & voices Dorough encouraged & brought to the project.

Life went on.  I grew up.  I didn't watch cartoons on Saturday mornings any more.  (Saturdays I slept in.)  Then one day in twelfth grade I was at my friend Joe's house & he had an actual Multiplication Rock record.  Holy shit.  (It was this one here.)  I didn't imagine such a thing existed - it would've been like discovering a record that had all my favorite television themes on it!  I borrowed it, I taped it, I tried to share my enthusiasm with my friends.  Some were not amused - later on, my friend Russell told me that he was trying to get me interested in serious music in high school & all I cared about was "children's music."

Maybe I felt a bit of vindication when, in the 1990s, they released all the Schoolhouse Rock stuff on CD, & trendy bands covered them, & even America's Sweetheart Drew Barrymore wrote a forward for the box set booklet.  But mainly I was glad to have them - I play them regularly on my show, & even played "Lolly, Lolly, Lolly, Get Your Adverbs Here" last week on Self Help Radio.

& that dear man, that soft-spoken, Southern-accented man whose nimble fingers & quick wit made those songs that I love as much as anything I love, I am going to say he's responsible for much of my love of music.  He made learning fun, he helped me learn my times tables, his voice in my head made me realize possibilities in music I simply didn't know about at the age of five, six, seven, eight.  That it's been decades & I'm still thinking about this music - still playing it on the radio! - suggests that his work - & this includes his non-Schoolhouse Rock work, which I discovered later - it suggests that what Bob Dorough made in his long life has an element of the timeless about it.

Thank you, good sir.  I think you understood how much you were appreciated, & how much what you created was loved.  It was the best thing to have grown up with your music in my life's soundtrack.