The Big Apple

Adam had a party

Adam had a party 

Adam had a celebration 

And on the fourth day...

What happened on the fourth day?

Victoria's Secret becomes an Apple store - 

It's all about Eve

Stay with me for the time-being, I will explain.  This afternoon on the subway, a man wearing suspenders, no coat, and buttons with slogans on his beret, sang the above over and over again. Initially, I was annoyed that his will seeped into my carefully guarded space.  What was he going on about anyway?  Why, when the subway is already so unpleasant, does this man have to make the trip even more eventful?  My fellow passengers were visibly annoyed, and wanted the man to just shut up.  We looked at one another, silent, but our faces were open with the statement: This man must be deranged!  Or autistic, or suffer from acute Tourettes.  Why is he in our car? Why are we in his? His almost pathological dedication to repetition started to make me nauseous and depressed - I'm not sure why, but all the same, I put down my book, and started to really listen to what this man had to say.  And as I sifted through the gibberish, I realized that this man was a type of sage wrapped up in the trimmings of a jester. Astonishingly, he was wearing bells on his belt, and his message was in the form of a riddle; one that was sung, and repeated ad nauseam.  Yes, he was talking about the well-worn story of Adam and Eve, and the eventful "fourth day," where God supposedly set up the sun, moon, and stars in the firmament of heaven.  And then his tale morphed into what seemed a modernized metaphor for the capitalistic conveyor-belt that we're immersed in.  In that, I mean, things, in an unending steady stream, are here for a time, they're popular, and then, they're replaced.  "Victoria's Secret" is still going strong in this city, it's just that "Apple" is going even stronger.  And our car's jester wanted to make clear in his riddle, and in his punning, that an apple, not "Apple" was detrimental to Adam and Eve, and perhaps to us.

I've been eating from the wrong tree.  I know it.  And,  it's a big apple I'm wrestling with; the Big Apple.  I, along with many others, I'm sure, are doing time on this demonic conveyor, and while we're strong and shiny it's no matter, but when there is someone coming around the bend that's perceived to be a little more lustrous than we're, we must get our exercise again - and go round-and-round.  Perhaps it's the sign of the times, that the conveyor has widened, and things at least for me, aren't coming as quickly as they should or have in the past.  But as the man said so wisely on the train - Adam had a party, even a celebration, now where's mine?