Bob Dylan - "Narrow Way". My parents used to call me Bean. It started when I was in my mama's belly, teeny as anything. They looked at the ultrasound and said: "That there is a Bean." Now I'm not so teeny: I got myself a good truck, a little house, a girl in every port. I got myself a wife: heavy-stacked as hell. So it's hard when I go home to J------, WI, and I rap on my parents big brass knocker, and mama pulls the door open and says BEAN! I'm no bean, not any more. Mama drags me into the parlour and calls down my skinny pop and then they want to know how it's all going - how's the house and how's the truck and how's Stella. Stella, my wife. They don't ask me about the girls in every port because they pretend they don't know that I got a girl in every port. They pretend other things too: that I don't swear, that I still go to church, that I kept pop's Mississippi Sheiks records. But life's a long fackin road, you know? Sometimes you're on the highway and the sky's full of big separate clouds, tall clouds like ships, separated by curtains of sun, and you think to yourself: look at this goddam place I gotta do whatever I want. It's like one long thought, brought on by that wide sky. Look at this goddam place I gotta do whatever I want. [buy]

(photo is of the headquarters of Mussolini's Italian Fascist Party, ca 1934)