I Dig A Pygmy by Charles Hawtrey and the Deaf Aids. No time for sleep, but just maybe time for breakfast, I sat cross-legged in good company, nodding off to visions of buttered toast, fried eggs, coffee hearkening again to the trill of Lennon’s whistle, while McCartney affirmed, “We’re going home, you better believe it…” In response to some quizzical expressions I mumbled one of the few Arabic words I knew, “Fatatan” ( a girl). With the prospect of salvation dimming I was encircled by wafting mirages – at least I think they were mirages – when lo, headlights appeared in the direction of the crater.Ĭoming into view was a derelict flatbed lorry, which – without completely stopping -slowed enough for me to clamber on and join an Arab work crew huddling with their shovels on the back. The finished version of Two of Us (as shown in the film) was performed live at Apple Studios on the last day of January 1969 and first broadcast on The Ed Sullivan Show on Maas the Beatle’s final appearance.īack in my world, it was around 4:00 a.m. Whatever it is that will please you, I’ll do it. I’ll play, you know, whatever you want me to play, or I won’t play at all if you don’t want to me to play. Paul: This one is like, shall we play guitars through Hey Jude. We can get it simpler, and then complicate it where it needs complications. The song was also a point of contention between Paul and George, as played out in the film of Let It Be: Sharing the same microphone as they sang it, each surely understood that the storied Lennon/McCartney partnership had reached an end. Written by Paul McCartney, who ostensibly dedicated it to his other half, Linda, some of the lyrics clearly refer to his other, other half John. Of particular resonance was this, the opening track to the Beatles’ Let it Be album, which I first heard on a reel-to-reel deck my brother brought back from Korea, after leaving the Army in 1970. And rest assured I sang – sometimes at the top of my voice – every song I could remember the lyrics to. In times like this, exhausted and alone, I take comfort in song. From the inky darkness at the base it was a five mile walk to the other side, where the ascent was more gradual and the night sky brighter then only 55 miles of barren desert and pitted two-lane blacktop to Ovda. I’d driven through here many times, always thinking, “what a hell of a place to get stuck.” Now here I was descending the deserted triple-hairpin road on foot beneath a waning crescent moon, while the mountainous wall sucked-in a little more ambient light with every downward step. It was after midnight when – with a shake of his head – he dropped me off near the edge of the makhtesh or as most of us called it, the Ramon Crater.Ībout 24 miles long and with a vertical drop of 1,600 feet, the crater has variously been described as a “combination of the Grand Canyon and the surface of Mars,” “a titanic optical illusion,” “a massive, twisting fantasy of orange and black,” and “an enormous panorama of what the Earth looked like 200 million years ago.” ![]() ![]() We have a hostel, you should stay there.” “Hitchhike through the makhtesh? Tonight? I advise you not to do that. Unfortunately he was only going as far as Mitzpe Ramon and when he heard my intentions he did a double take. ![]() when I finally caught a ride on the outskirts of Be’er Sheva. No excuses. I couldn’t afford to be late and this bus would barely get me a third of the way to the Ovda airbase construction site. My livelihood was now in serious jeopardy. Well, felt pretty good about the two of us at least. As time would tell, our memories were “longer than the road that stretches out ahead,” but that evening I felt pretty good when I caught the last southbound bus. ![]() Trying to patch up a failing relationship meant skipping out of work and hitchhiking to Tel Aviv. I really pushed the envelope on this one.
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