Call me and we'll go to the show. There's so many - the Redford, Norwest, Great Lakes, Irving, Royal.
Call me and we'll throw crab apples at the Dutch Elm spray jeeps.
Call me and we'll take the bus down Grand River and notice how things change east of Greenfield.
Call me and we'll hang out at the Rice Bowl Inn.
Call me and you can help me deliver the Shopping News.
Call me and let's get penny candy at Perks Party store.
Call me and we'll throw clay across the big ditch which will become the Southfield ExpressWay.
Call me on a hot summer night, and we'll sneak out of our houses and just walk the neighborhood, and end up at Mary's house where some girls are camped out behind her house in a tent.
Call me and we'll go eat a million hot dogs on my neighbor's front yard to celebrate Denny and Al and Willie and the guys.
BUT don't call me as a realtor and scare my folks into moving.
Don't call me to say negros will move in with their outrage and orange painted shutters and garage doors.
Don't tell me there are "modern" fill in lots still available in Birmingham, Southfield, and Farmington Hills with family rooms, and close proximity to all the new highways.
Things are fine, this is my city, plenty of places to go, things to do. I'm young, I want to be a part of all this. And the bad things will get better.
Call me.