The memories behind the songs.

Roll out the barrel, we’ll have a barrel of fun.
Roll out the barrel, we’ve got the blues on the run.
Zing! Boom! Ta-rarrel!
Sing out a song of good cheer.
Now’s the time to roll the barrel,
For the gang’s all here!

Okay. Maybe not Top 40 Hit Parade material, but occasionally the tune to this polka rolls through my head, and I’m whisked back to the 1950s when the song was first introduced to me. Songs and musical scores have a way of sparking memories, don’t they. Hopefully pleasant ones.

This one conjures images of my father in a striped coat, white pants, and a straw hat, standing third in a line of barbershop quarteters, belting out his “ba-ba-oo-ah-oo-ah” bass notes to round out what was harmonic bliss to my seven-year-old ears. Their precision and blend on songs like “Roll Out The Barrel” thrilled me and instilled a lifelong love of music deep inside.

Today, I write historical novels. When I’m between projects, I enjoy writing Substack with history and culture as the predominant theme. For me, music and history are inexorably intertwined. Not just how the music defined the times, but also how it contributed to the shape of my life.

I’d like to explore together the impact that songs and musical pieces from the 50s, 60s, and 70s, or any other era, have had on me—and you. A sharing of personal histories, if you will.

YES, that means I’d like to hear from you!

“Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and life to everything.” — Plato

I lasted only six months as a declared music major in my junior year of college, but I’ve been playing the guitar ever since. Each of my three siblings were also infected with the bug, my older brother Morrie becoming one of the country’s foremost classical guitarists and lutenists until his untimely death at age thirty-seven. But it was my father who branded a love of music on each of our souls.

Hardly a Sunday passed by without Dean Martin, Bing Crosby, and Al Jolson crooning in the background as we piled our bagels high with cream cheese, white fish or lox, tomatoes, and cucumbers. While the boisterous conversation—or arguments half the time—fought with the music for my attention, I usually found solace in the songs.

In the afternoons, my older brothers would share the music of Elvis Presley, Buddy Holly, Little Richard, and folk artists like the Limeliters, Woody Guthrie, the Kingston Trio, and later, Bob Dylan. This propelled me into a rock band in the 60s that secured my place as one of the cool kids in high school. Very important distinction back then.

Music was everywhere, and it all started with my father. Rehearsing with his quartet in our den, performing at parties and community events. For all his weaknesses (and who doesn’t have a few, right?), Dave Mizrahi was a bigger than life kind of man. The life of any party, charismatic, and a very talented stage actor in our community theater.

I’m thankful for the love of music he left for us. That’s why I chose such an obscure song as “Roll Out The Barrel” to kick this off. I wish I could proudly write about the rest of his legacy, but…

How about you? Please send me a couple of comments about how a song, or score, or some musical interlude unleashes a particular memory for you. Can you tie it to some historic event? I’d like to feature some of your memories in future posts, so let me know if I have permission.