It was a warm sunny spring day accompanied by a light breeze making the sway of trees barely noticable. Birds fluttered through the air with grace capable of envy. Many people dotted the lawns of Central Park; they were talking, and playing catch, and making music; and also smiling, which is something Jon had forgotten how to do. The whole cherade seemed wonderous to Jon Katz. Why? Don't they have a job?

No, they can't. It's 12 p.m. in New York city. The employed have already been busy making money for around 6 hours. Which is what Jon would be doing right now if his boss wasn't gracious enough to let him have an extended lunch break after his wreck that morning.

Just like every other day, Jon got in his Mercedes CLK and headed to work listening to classical composers like Mahler and Beethoven on his Bose 7 channel speakers. Everything was in order with no strange anomalies striking him on his linear path to work. When Jon cruised up to the stoplight between 5th and 6th everything was normal. The cars were all stopped and a hobo was trying to clean the windshield of the Lexus beside him.

"Pathetic." Jon thought. "Get a job and do something for society. It doesn't take that mu--

--Jon's airbag was suffocating him, he must have blacked out for a few seconds because he didn't remember any impact. He tried to breathe but his lungs tasted only the hollow promise of air his brain was giving him. His head was floating at his car roof now. He thought he could struggle his head free from the airbag that was giving him no air, but unable to do that, Jon leapt into panic and began flailing his hands at the top of the suffacotionbag. Blackness enveloped him as he battled it. Then, a curious thought entered Jon's mind that was perhaps only brought about by the closeness of death. What if he didn't work in a cubicle all day, making money to buy him things that filled up his house but not his body and mind? Would he have enough strength to defeat the suffocationbag?

His questions were going to be answered. Someone had made him late for his date with death.

"You alright?" yelled a hobo.

Jon was coughing up the new air that was introduced to his new life.

Gasping heavily, Jon answered with a yea. The hobo started to say something else but as he did Jon remembered his car. The door was locked and the windows up, so how was he saved? Jon turned to see his Mercedes driver side window shattered. What was once fear for his life turned into fear for his job. He knew his boss would look at him with dissapointment and recite one of the little virtues he created. "If you look good then you feel good Jon, and when you feel good you make more money for us and yourself." Then as he was walking away he would say something like, "Fix it and it fixes us!". Jon knew he didn't have to fret over what his boss would say; just over what he would do.

Suddenly, after thinking of his boss and what he would do, Jon was brought back to reality and he remembered he had to get to work, regardless of his glimpse with death. Nothing to his boss, or Jon, was an excuse for being late. The had to produce product to produce money, and being late reduced that time one could spend on production. That was the system and jon didn't question it; after all, he was getting a large portion of that money being produced. And his salary allowed him to have his Mercedes and Bose speakers and his apartment in Manhatten and many more luxuries. So how could he possibly complain? He had everything and achieved everything. He dominated life!

Suddenly Jon was brought back to the park. Two musicians had set up practically on top of Jon and looked like they were preparing for a song. The guitarist started strumming chords while the singer tapped the beat on his thigh and said, "This is Watching the Wheels, by John Lennon."

When the lyrics flowed from the singers lips Jon began to feel slightly odd. Maybe it was the meter, Jon thought, sometimes a weird meter can make you feel odd.

The lyrics flowed on and Jon was feeling increasingly uneasy; his face was burning and his head began floating again. This feeling was something more than odd.

Regret. It flowed through his mind and he saw the many chances he had at improving his life. He had to let it go now, when this strange song implored him by example. Otherwise, tomorrow would be the same routine.

Finally, Jon Katz rejected his old life and accepted true existance.

In hopes that many more people will follow the example that Jon did, here it is:

People say Im crazy doing what Im doing
Well they give me all kinds of warnings to save me from ruin
When I say that Im o.k. well they look at me kind of strange
Surely youre not happy now you no longer play the game

People say Im lazy dreaming my life away
Well they give me all kinds of advice designed to enlighten me
When I tell them that Im doing fine watching shadows on the wall
Dont you miss the big time boy youre no longer on the ball

Im just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go

Ah, people asking questions lost in confusion
Well I tell them theres no problem, only solutions
Well they shake their heads and they look at me as if Ive lost my mind
I tell them theres no hurry
Im just sitting here doing time

Im just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go
I just had to let it go

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