***The Roots Is The Toots- The Music That Got Them Through The Great Depression And World War II…

 …it wasn’t always about the blues, man trouble blues, woman trouble blues, every day blues, every night blues either. No for those kids, and they were just kids, fifteen and sixteen year olds, sitting on the stools at the soda fountain, the sacred marble fountain at Doc’s , ordering shy cherry Cokes, dreaming of sharing for two, and ordering an off-hand ice cream when times were flush, when there was pocket money to be had. The boys too young, damn, to have numbers called, although many dreamed dreams of war glory fighting the Krauts or the Japs, and the girls secretly pining away for the boys, these stay- at- home boys, to have their numbers called and then see them off to camp and to the troop transports just like their older sisters had done before them. And to be just like their older sisters waiting by the telephone or the mailbox for the other shoe to drop.

In the meantime though, after school each afternoon, Saturdays and Sundays too, they could be found, boys and girls alike, like teenagers have done since some old guy invented the teenager idea back in ancient times fully trying to maneuver the intricacies of the latest dance step, learning the words to the latest musical hits being played endlessly on Doc’s jukebox, the boys worrying about whether they had enough dough for that Saturday night date and the girls worrying if he had enough dough as well so she could get out of that sister mopping house. But mostly they, he and she, were making furtive glances, endlessly making furtive glances at those certain hes and shes that drove them to Doc’s…