I was good at 'Had a Little Car, 1948,' but dreaded
the stupid wind song. That gentle lovely one that
finishes with the nasty fast whipping and you end up
with your true love, or not:

"The wind the wind the wind blows high, blowing Tracey through the sky, he is handsome she is pretty, she is the girl from the golden city, they go marching one-two-three, may I ask you will you marry me? Yes no maybe so ..."

Before you started, you were supposed to tell
everyone the name of your true love. How could I
tell them it was either Madame Renault or Debbie
Briggs? I often searched the eyes of the other girls
but none ever seemed conflicted or anxious, the
names of boys running off their tongues through
giggles without effort or regret: "Kevin!" "Neil
Williams!" "Gavin McKnight!" I mostly stuck to my
old standby, Micky Dolenz from the Monkees, or,
later, one of the Bay City Rollers (not the blond
guy). In my head I'd whisper the True Name, but I
always felt I was cheating the skipping oracle and
could never count on the answer to 'yes no maybe
so' being true.