The Time Capsule: Just call him the Music Man

When this column is in error I’m willing to admit it and make the correction, so here’s one. An exaggeration appeared a couple of months ago. While writing about a subscriber I implied that he has the most extensive record collection on the planet. He writes to tell me this isn’t the case. My reference to his having records stacked to the ceiling was an overstatement. He is, in fact, able to squeeze most of them into a single room not quite as large as my garage. It contains a long row of four-drawer legal-size file cabinets containing 16,000 45 rpm records. Then there’s another cabinet with about 6,000 78 rpm singles in the ten-inch size, plus another with a few thousand twelve-inchers, and of course albums—tons of albums. The floor of this room is a poured concrete slab because the aggregate weight of these records is roughly the same as a D-17 Caterpillar. His letter continues, eventually admitting to having two more cabinets full of records that can’t be squeezed into the record room. 

I’ll call him the Music Man. He doesn’t want his name revealed as doing so could invite theft, and his collection contains rare valuables. He writes that he actually owns a coveted recording that features these haunting lyrics:  “Ooo Ee Ooo Ah Ah Ting Tang Walla Walla Bing Bang Ooo Ee Ooo Ah Ah.” He tells us this classic was written by Ross Bagdasarian, who also wrote the 1951 Rosemary Clooney hit “Come On-a My House.” Music Man says Bagdasarian went on to even better things, creating an animated trio named after executives at Capital Records and called “The Chipmunks.” What would Christmas be without them?  

His letters are unusual in more than content; typed, single spaced, grammatically correct, they utilize all of both sides of the pages and represent a flow of music trivia that is incredible. Here’s a typical paragraph:

‘I also discovered a 1906 song by George M. Cohan:  “You’re a Grand Old Rag.” I actually have a (reproduced and not very well done) recording of that song done by Billy Murray (who was very prolific in the early part of the last century. Joel Whitbum’s book “Pop Memories 1890-1954,” a compendium made from contemporary popular music charts and sales of records, lists 169 singles recorded by him over a period of 35 years or so); the title and lyrics were changed to “You’re a Grand Old Flag” because some folks felt using the word “Rag” wasn’t sufficiently respectful.”  

Imagine multiple pages of this, paragraph after paragraph of pretty much useless yet fascinating trivia. What the story behind the Music Man is I do not know. He writes of supplying records and related material to radio programs, and seems to know the story behind most every popular song from the 20th century.  

I know who he is and could look him up but, even though he owns nineteen dogs, he has security concerns and I might be followed.  

We’ll wrap this up with a trivia question of my own:  we all know that Charles Bates (1897-1936), son of a Villisca high school band leader, later co-wrote a popular song about his hard-hearted aunt, a vamp named Hannah. She may have never been to Savannah, but the words rhymed and made for good lyrics. Bates also wrote a tribute to the area of his youth, a song he called “On the Nodaway Road.” It was recorded by The Pied Pipers and Johnnie Mercer.    

So, okay, Music Man—and you other local history trivia buffs—what was the title of the album which featured Johnnie Mercer and the Pipers doing a song about the road that led to Nodaway?  

If anyone gets the answer I’ll let you know.  

 Roy Marshall is a local historian and columnist for the Red Oak Express. He can be contacted at news@redoakexpress.com.