Singable Songs For the Very Young (and Old)

by editor Michele Catalano

It was an album that wasn’t in my wheelhouse at all. I was not married. I didn’t have children. I had nothing going on in my life that said I would take interest in a children’s record. Yet, there I was, doing inventory for Record World, when, for some unknown reason, I pulled the album out of the bin.

I said the title out loud: Singable Songs for the Very Young. It rolled off my tongue. It was a good title, and a little intriguing; so I turned the album over to see the song titles and learn a little bit about this children’s record. I had no idea at the time who Raffi was; his name had never entered my lexicon. Yet there I was, examining this album as if it was sacred. The back cover had a couple of letters from fans. One said. “Dear Raffi, I like your hat.” I thought that was so sweet and wholesome that I said it out loud. “Dear Raffi, I like your hat.” I showed the album to my coworkers. They repeated the line. We were all charmed by it. 

I did what anyone else would have done under the circumstances. I busted open a copy and put it on the store turntable. Because it was around six in the morning on inventory day, the five of us counting records were the only ones in the store. I was going to make everyone listen to the wholesome Raffi.

It started off with the familiar, rolicking, “The More We Get Together.” I was wondering how long my coworkers would let me get away with this,  when “Down By the Bay” came on. 

Down by the bay

Where the watermelons grow

Back to my home

i dare not go

The lilting singsong was catchy. I liked Raffi’s voice. It was welcoming. 

For if I do

My mother will say

“Did you ever you ever see a goose

Kissing a moose?”

Down by the bay

It was a silly song, which was just fine, as it was for the very young, not five twentysomething record store clerks who listened to the likes of Flipper. 

“Did you ever see a whale

With a polka dot tail?”

Down by the bay

Someone read the back of the album out loud while the song played. I was paying more attention to Raffi. Something about the cadence, the playfulness of the song,made me feel like a kid again. I was four years old, in nursery school, singing a silly song with my classmates. I felt free. I felt lighthearted. 

“Did you ever see a fly

wearing a tie?”

Down by the bay

From that day on, “I like your hat” became a tagline, an inside joke between us; except I wasn’t laughing. I was really enamored with Raffi. I wasn’t going to buy the album or anything, but I knew in my heart that this wouldn’t be the last I heard of Raffi.

****

Seven years later, Raffi and his hat long forgotten, I was married with two little kids. Two little kids who loved Barney, the purple dinosaur. Barney on PBS, Barney on VHS, Barney on cassette, day in and day out. It was driving me crazy. Surely, I thought, there had to be better children’s entertainment than this. Sesame Street was also on my “wearing thin” list. I needed something different. 

My mother was working at the time in the children’s department at the local library. She told me they had just gotten in some new children’s music. Off we went to the library, Barney songs ringing out from the back seat of the minivan. I was going to cure them of this if it killed me. Because it was killing me. 

I picked up a few Tom Chapin cassettes (if you have kids, I highly recommend his children’s albums), thinking that would be enough to hold us over for a while, when I spotted my daughter, Natalie, over by the records. We still had a turntable at that point, and I figured I would let her pick out a record. I went to help her read the titles. We flipped through some Disney records, and then I saw it, peeking out between some records I had never heard of. The back was facing toward us. “Dear Raffi, I like your hat.”

My heart did a flip. The memory came rushing back. I started whispering.

“Did you ever see a llama

wearing pajamas?”

Down by the bay

My kids looked at me. “We are taking this one home, kids. Here’s your new Barney.”

I couldn’t wait to get home and put on the record. Holding it brought back incredible memories of inventory day, of the inside joke we all had for months afterward, of the warmth and joy I felt listening to “Down by the Bay.” It was time to see what else this album had in store for me. I mean, my kids.

They laughed through “Down by the Bay.” They danced to “Five Little Frogs.” We all immediately recognized “Must Be Santa” from Christmas compilations. They were absolutely fucking delighted with this album, and I was thrilled to be listening to something besides Barney. Raffi had become my new hero. Hearing my kids giggle as they sang about where the watermelons grow made my heart fill with joy. It somehow connected my present with my past, as if I had come full circle. 

But it wasn’t exactly a full circle—not yet. Because last month I purchased a copy of Singable Songs For the Very Young. When I put it on (of course I played it immediately), I was filled with such joy and hope and warmth, all things I’ve been having a rough time finding lately. Now it was full circle. Now I had Raffi back in his rightful place. 

I know there will be days ahead when I’ll need that warmth and comfort, when I’ll need to be a ridiculous  62-year-old woman, sitting alone in my living room, singing “Down by the Bay.”

Thank you, Raffi.

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