A Circle Is Just a Metaphor

“Death is only one of many ways to lose your life.” —Alvah Simon

Have I told you yet about Bicycle John, the Sisyphean character in my mind who pushes a bicycle tire along railroad tracks? He's an amorphous fellow whose existence depends on pushing that tire along those tracks. Ask him yourself.

“Hey John, why you pushing that tire along those tracks?”

“I dunno, it's what I do.”

“Okay, but why?”

“John ain't even my name, by the way. Used to be something else.”

“Oh?”

“Had a different name before.”

“Before what?”

“Before I started pushing this tire along these tracks.”

“Why'd you start?”

“Forgot my name.”

He's circular like that, like the tire he pushes, never tires of pushing. It's like she sells sea shells, only he never tires of tires. Not a tongue twister exactly, but a thing that's fun to say if you find that sort of thing fun to say.

“How'd you end up here?”

“Always been.”

“Just you and the tire and the tracks?”

“The hell, man, how'd you end up here?”

It's a troubling question. How did any of us end up here? Well, it all started some billions of years ago. Physics and chemistry were involved, later biology. Someone invented fire, the wheel. Give a man a wheel and he'll push it until something better comes along. Maybe that's John's problem: nothing better has come along yet.

What if it never does? That's another troubling question. How does he keep pushing that tire along those tracks in the hope of finding something better that doesn't even exist.

It'll keep a guy up nights. Best to keep pushing. This can't last forever, right? A circle is just a metaphor.