Come On and Zoom Zoom Zooma Zoom

E has a new favorite, replacing Our Rainbow Circle (no URL, but you can email spicecakes@comcast.net if you’re interested). At my dad’s we went through a box of old records and came home with The Pirates of Penzance, Oklahoma, The Carnival of the Animals (Leonard Bernstein conducting and narrating), The Modern Jazz Quartet Plays One Never Knows (this is the one you should be inspired to find and listen to, or, if you don’t have it, to acquire as soon as possible), Lumumba (whatever that is), and--drum roll, please--COME ON AND ZOOM: original album of songs and stuff from the award-winning children’s T.V. show.

We’re talking the original Zoom: 1974, boys with shaggy hair and girls with center parts cavorting in red and yellow striped polo shirts, handwritten lettering, a gatefold cover that opens up to reveal the lyrics. We’re talking “Twinkle Twinkle Little Bat” and “Lollipop Tree” and “Michael Row the Boat Ashore” and “I Believe in Music.” We’re talking E nirvana.

When E first falls in love with an album, she sits right next to the stereo, staring into space and listening intently, playing it over and over (significant problem with Come On and Zoom: she can’t work the turntable by herself). After perhaps half a dozen renditions, she stands up and starts to sway a little, smiling to herself at parts she particularly likes. Eventually, she begins her interpretive dances. She plants the lollipop tree and watches it grow; she rows the boat; she obeys instructions to “Jump back, baby, jump back” and “Teddy bear, teddy bear, touch the ground.” As I write this, she’s reached the ultimate stage: singing along, interpretive dancing, and general rocking out in the middle of the living room floor.

I’m tempted to end this with a sarcastic comment (befitting my usual maternal attitude) about how tedious it is to endure the repetition. But, you know, I kind of like Come On and Zoom myself, and what curmudgeon could complain about a thoroughly blissful child?