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Da jeg var liten sang jeg "schlovs you ye ye ye" og spilte tromme. Ikke ordentlig tromme, en hoggestabbe i skogen fungerte fint. Hvis noen spurte hva jeg gjorde så svarte jeg at jeg var Beatles-manner.

Jeg har siden det aldri vært spesielt fan av The Beatles, selv om jeg liker mye av musikken. Jeg hører aldri på Beatles, derfor er det rart at jeg de siste dagene ikke har fått denne sangen ut av hodet:



Og "the long and winding road" får meg over på et dikt jeg en gang kunne utenat:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveller, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference

...Robert Frost

 
 
En annen "road" er boka "The Road" av Cormac McCarthy. Boka er trist, dyster og fantastisk. Gå gjerne å se filmen (som jeg ikke har sett), men les helst boka!