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Motown: The Musical is Berry Gordy's account...
of the '60s, and I defy anybody not to leave the theater humming the songs. When "My Guy" started, I actually choked up a little remembering how my mother waited for the Mary Wells hit to come on the radio, then took down the lyrics in shorthand—because in 1964 women knew shorthand—and typed them up so I could stand in front of the mirror singing Smokey Robinson's words into my hairbrush. All these years later, I still know every last one.