I am feeling nostalgic for childhood today, which means that I am listening to the Rolling Stones, who were I think my father’s first love, and who were the soundtrack to my early years.

I was five when my parents took me to my first (and only, so far) Rolling Stones concert at what was then called Foxboro Stadium and what I mainly remember are the giant inflatable ladies that rocketed to life during the introduction to “Honky-Tonk Women.” And, of course, the hoppity Jagger dance, which my dad used to imitate every once in a while when he was egged on sufficiently.

I spent long hours studying the album covers to Beggars Banquet, Some Girls, Let it Bleed, and, yes, Sticky Fingers, which meant that at eight or so I frequently operated the fly on [presumably] Mick Jagger’s trousers. (You wouldn’t want his trousers to fall down, now would you?)

On Saturday or Sunday afternoons, sometimes Dad would put an album on the record player and listen to it sort of reverently—he’s never been one to be able to multi-task, and to him there is no such thing as “background music”—and I would also listen, though sometimes sulkily, because when an LP was playing I wasn’t allowed to run or jump for fear that it would skip the record.

But now, when I hear the Stones, I think warmly of those afternoons and my youth and a particular carpet in our living room where I would lie, curled up in sunlight like a cat, listening to Mick and Keith and Charlie and, depending, Bill, and, depending, Brian, and watching my dad as he remembered his own youth. And today I’m thinking, he wasn’t much older then than I am….

What music brings you back to childhood?