Imagine a world without real estate

This Saturday, I was dragged out of bed at 9.00 a.m. to go to the beach and go canoeing in the Mar Menor. I was, indeed, dragged out of bed at that immoral time I've just written, but canoeing?! No, not really. The canoe guy was expecting us at 10.30 h, not at 13.00 h, which was the time we arrived at the beach.

Plan B: since we were by the beach, we decided to run from the August rush of people sunbathing, and go to another beach by the Mediterranean. We hopped on the car, and there we went. Needless to say, I was sleeping drunk and wishing I was in bed, instead of out in the sun with 40 degrees...

Richie - the designated driver, and creator of healthy, early morning plans on weekends, likes to listen to really corny Spanish music. At least he does when he's driving... so, we were up and down the motorway, listening to such musical pearls as Isabel Pantoja and other crying-singers-cause-my-man-dumped-me-for-another-woman sort of performers, and to such international hit singers as the Bee Gees and whatnot, when this singular moment in time happened.

We were stuck in traffic, in the middle of Lo Pagán, when John Lennon's Imagine hit the radio waves. This song must be on the Top 5 of the Sing Alonglable Songs of All Times, because the four of us - Richie, Maria, Fran and myself - all started singing and muttering when the words failed us.

I got into this contemplating state of mind - brought to you by staying till 2 a.m. playing in Second Life the night before - and while the chords of the song echoed in the car, and the heat killed us softly, I looked around and noticed that every shop in town was a real estate agency.
And then John Lennon says, in one of those instants full of timing: Imagine no posessions...

...while the sequence of real estate agencies, screaming "We speak English" and "Your house in a golf resort for just xxxx€" and "Front-line beach villas for an incredible price!" kept on moving.