MY GIRL by THE TEMPTATIONS. Story by Violet St Clair.

Toronto, Canada, 1965

The radio clicked on and the volume slowly picked up. With retirement I no longer had to ricochet out of bed and into bathroom, closet and kitchen.  I could curl up and spend an extra 15 or 20 minutes yawning myself awake.  I missed the host announcing the next song.  No matter.  The beginning bass line like the beat of a heart is unmistakeable, over 60 years later.  A memory slowly unfurled in my fleecy soft languor.

My Girl. Written for the Temptations by Smokey Robinson with David Ruffin on lead vocal; a honey rich voice, simmering smooth, boiled to bubbling.  It was a song that smelled of wet grass, wet sidewalks, wet bricks and perhaps a few smelts from Lake Ontario.  And leaves.  Lots of orange, red and golden leaves; rain-damp and vibrant.  Wrapped up in blankets and a memory, I tapped out the beat as a day in 1965 replayed behind closed eyelids.

Autumn in Toronto was a fiesta of colour.  I was eight in 1965 and Mrs. MacDonald had assigned us a weekend project; find the required leaves from an instruction sheet, wax them, place them in a scrapbook and label correctly.  It was Saturday and I was on the couch in the living room, staring out the giant window, still a bit rain speckled.  I was waiting for my mom and listening to 1050 CHUM radio when My Girl came on with smooth melodic waves and rhythmic heart clicks.

I was happy.  Like David Ruffin sang, I had sunshine on a cloudy day. My mom had the day off, the morning was dappled with an after-shower shine and the big maple tree in our front yard was ripe with ruby and rust foliage.  That would be the first leaf I would showcase in my scrap book.

As I swayed to the rhythm and pulse of the song, I watched early morning Toronto on display like a Vermeer painting; women carrying bags and purses with kerchiefs wrapped around their heads; the old Toronto streetcars in red and gold clacking their way down King Street; men in hats and long cars, Chryslers, Pontiacs and Chevrolets. Not a briefcase in sight.  Toronto in the 1960s between King and Queen was immigrant, colourful and working class; brick, stone and tree-lined; the buildings a little shambolic, a little funky.  My school, Queen Victoria Public School, was a 10-minute walk away.  I didn’t know it then, but I, too, had all the riches on that day, Motown, Mom and my hometown.

My Girl circa ’65 began a morning of closeness and comfort as Mom and I searched the damp neighbourhood for perfect examples of maple, oak, elm and poplar, finishing with tea and toasted tomato sandwiches with a few kisses on the cheek.  My Girl circa 2025 began a downy, dreamy moment of childhood, my finger thumping out the beat, my voice muffling out the lyrics and a poignancy enfolding me amongst the covers.  Yup, you can go back with the right tune.

Like the song says, I don’t need no money, fortune or fame. What can make me feel this way? The Temptations singing My Girl on a lazy morning…60 years later.

Stereo Story 859

More stories by Violet St Clair