Say It Say It Say It Say It

I never cared for the whole Diana Ross thang. She married the boss; threw her friends over the side; I never thought she was all that pretty — though many people always have and still do — just sorta brittle looking.

When we’d drive to family gatherings in my Dad’s broken down old cars with the crackly AM radio fading in and out, it was the Four Tops or The Temptations I’d hope would fill the Motown slots on the endlessly repeating one hour playlist, not the Supremes. Let’s put all that aside, and wonder at the perfection of this: