…of course not.
“Life is what happens when you’re making other plans” – John Lennon
It was, I suppose, the obvious choice for a class song. The film was relatively recent, the singer, a home town girl…that is, if the “Projects”, and Downriver, could be considered all one Detroit.
Yes, it’s a bit cheesy, but all in all, I think the song has held up well. It helps of course that Diana Ross was, and I assume still is, a fantastic singer. I still like the suggestion of a lass from the year above me, who thought their class song should be “I Love My Car”. Looking at YouTube now – ah, where would we be without YouTube? Er, listening to the radio, of course – I wonder if she meant Queen’s “I’m in Love with My Car”.
Ah, Freddie. Them’s were the days…Ooops. Sorry, Roger.
But, whilst the Queen song would have been quite apt for most of the lads, and quite a few lasses, who I graduated with, that wasn’t our song. It was, in case you haven’t guessed yet, this.
Did I know where I was going to? Did I heckasnot.
I ended up in a place and time where people actually say, or at least said, “like as heckasnot”, if only ironically. A land, dare I say, where people use and understand irony, and mock the land of my people because they – allegedly – don’t understand it.
How I ended up here, and developed my own peculiar accent, has been covered, if somewhat obliquely, in a previous post. Suffice to say, I left my beloved WaterWinterWonderland, and have spent nearly three decades in GreenandPleasantland.
When I graduated, I was full of gloomy uncertainty and teenage angst. Detroit was in the doldrums of a recession that had hit the American car industry hard. I knew I was going to uni, but beyond that, I was clueless.
What of my classmates? Well, at least one had hopes of being a surgeon: hopes that were fulfilled thanks to hard work, intelligence, and determination. Several planned to, and did marry, fellow classmates.
Time, as it has a habit of doing, passed. Detroit has lost population, and some more hope. But they are farming again in the midst of the Motor City. Meanwhile, here in S Yorkshire, I find myself spending most mornings, and some evenings, in the green if somewhat scruffy little plot that is my English urban garden.
Life, as one of my old APHS classmates often says on Facebook, is good.