It all started with a dream

Early yesterday morning -- just before waking -- I dreamt my family and I were on a canoe trip through a canyon. We had pulled over to the bank for a picnic, and 12-year-old KERSTIN grabbed some black-and-white photos of THE BEATLES out of her backpack.
We were remarking about how effortlessly cool they all looked, when the alarm jolted me awake.
Later, when I approached Kerstin to tell her about my odd dream -- why were we on a canoe trip? -- I saw she had selected a Beatles T-shirt to wear to school that day.
OK, that was enough of a sign for me, even though Kerstin deflated by theory of fate by proclaiming: "It was the only thing I had that was clean."
I listened to the FAB FOUR throughout the day yesterday, and last night we all gathered around the television and enjoyed Richard Lester's "A HARD DAY'S NIGHT" on DVD.
Just now, I have completed a rather brisk, invigorating walk around the neighborhood while listening to "HELP!"
Would The Beatles have played such a role in the past two days if I had not dreamt about them?