Route 66

[beekaay]

The road to this place is long
Although you never count the miles
For the first one-fourth of the journey,
Content to ride in the back seat
Counting only the passing telephone poles
Shrieking with delight at the Burma Shave signs
Chanting the words to the immortal children’s song,
“Are We There Yet?”

Then suddenly, mysteriously, you are driving
(When did that happen?)
And you slowly learn the meaning
Of the most frightening word in any language,
Responsibility.

You begin to notice
That this road has potholes,
Dangerous curves
Steep mountain grades
And, must unsettling of all,
You are now paying for the trip

[sasha]

even more unsettling - to "are we there yet?" we must answer


almost

[the mingo]

Of the most frightening word in any language,
Responsibility.

... but we are old now and get to finish what childhood left undone with the addition of experience - a powerful toy - we are old and can do
what we want -