Good Old Days

There is a very unofficial brotherhood of baby boomers, whose minds and hearts are forever married to Spanky, Alfalfa, Stymie, Wheezer, and the other legendary child actors of the 1930's who starred in the Little Rascals Comedies. When two people discover each other to be "Little Rascals Freaks", there is an exhuberant exchange of quotes from the series, such as -- "Don't call me Norman, just call me Chubbsy-Ubbsy" "We want the Florry Dorry, we want the Florry-Dorry..." "Just an Echo.....Yoo Hoo..." "He-Man Woman-Haters Club" "Come on Algebra, this is no place for you" "Aw now I gotta grease Wheezer" "Otay"

Underlying these films, especially during the peak years of 1931-34, was some of the catchiest, happiest music one could ask for. It was all written and scored by one Leroy Shield, a composer-orchestrator who would otherwise be relegated to relative obscurity in American Music History.

He arrived at his 2-year stint at Hal Roach Studios having spent the entire Roaring Twenties absorbing and perfecting the happy razz-matazz orchestral style of that time. The Little Rascals films, which had originated in the Silent Movie Era, were making the conversion to Talkies in 1930. Shield was given the green light to put his musical stamp on every new episode, and he made the most of the opportunity.

Whatever sheet music was used by Shield and his musicians is long lost. But in the early 1990's a group of Dutchmen called the Beau Hunks embarked on a labor of love that forever endeared me to them, as they transcribed by ear every note of this music, and then re-recorded it all.

They only had the original 1931-34 Little Rascals episodes to go by. Recording techniques back then were very primitive; as great as the music was, the sound quality was very dull by today's standards, full of hiss and pops, not to mention the interference of dialogue and other noise. In 1995 the CD "The Beau Hunks Play the Music of the Little Rascals" was released. As soon as I heard of its existence, I ran to the store for a copy. Over the years I've delighted in the clean, beautifully reproduced arrangements. The clarinets, violins, muted trumpets, saxes, and banjos were so much more clearly mixed and defined, as a purely listening experience, a long-overdue tribute to these gems from 65 years ago.

And now it's over 80 years ago. Not only did Leroy Shield pass away a long time ago -- at this point just about all of the Little Rascals themselves are gone. Having been shelved after their initial runs in the movie theaters of the 1930's, the 20-mimute films had a Renaissance starting in the late 1950's, fitting perfectly into the half-hour formats of TV. Over and over again, day after day, year in, year out, baby boomer kids like me watched the antics of these kids from a generation before, from a time my parents called the Depression Era, whatever that was. As old as these films were, they entertained this boomer more than any other childhood TV fare.

My recent return to Long Island, and the regularity of the piano work at the Irish Coffee Pub, has resulted in some new and different piano projects. Among them is a Little Rascal Medley -- "Leroy Shield for Solo Piano", so to speak. Piano was Shield's instrument, and it's easy to picture the original melodic ideas being born at a piano. Granted, the great majority of my audience does not recognize the music, having been either too old or too young to tune into the hugely successful Little Rascals TV run. The music -- certainly the way I'm playing it -- is clearly ancient-sounding, as ancient as "Putting On the Ritz" or "Makin Whoopee", which were fresh new tunes in 1930.

On a recent Sunday, Fathers Day June 17 to be exact, during my last set I jumped into the Little Rascals Medley, for my own edification, not expecting any applause or recognition. After about a minute, a middle-aged couple appeared to my right, singing the some of the catchy Shield melodies, with huge smiles on their faces. Chatting immediately afterward, we felt like kindred spirits -- they too were very familiar with the Beau Hunks, and appreciated their musical accomplishment, as well as Shield's creative genius. And they appreciated my own effort. It wasn't exactly easy putting the medley together, converting the band arrangements to solo piano.

In fact it's still an ongoing project, as I continually tweak it, adding, subtracting, re-shuffling. It's a labor of love, as was the efforts of the Beau Hunks, and as are -- hopefully, somewhere out there -- the efforts of some other musicians, doing what they can to keep this great music alive.