Kathy, I’m lost, Paul said, though he knew she was sleeping. I’m heavy and aching and I don’t know why we’re not counting the cars on the New Jersey turnpike. Where are we now? This wasn’t in my song.
(If you don’t get the above reference, you’ll need to listen to
.)
If they all came to look for the Karoo, what would they see; if Paul and Kathy on the Greyhound came from Saginaw via the New Jersey turnpike during their 1964 road trip, or if a spy in a gabardine suit pitched up at the coach station in Johannesburg or Cape Town and asked for a one-way ticket to Nowheresville RSA, and landed up somewhere in the deep Karoo, South Africa, 2021; would they understand what they saw, or would they be as lost as Paul Simon was on that bus…