oh franklin.

twice now i have seen people dressed in ye olde costumes on the train. garb of yesteryear. rags harking back to the 18th century. both times, i have been startled (obviously) and convinced i would need to see a doctor for hallucinations. then i remember the constitution center and that i live in a 'historical' city. 50% of the time, the only seat left on the train car is next to ol' ben franklin himself.
let me tell you about ben. a rather rotund man, he wears a tri-cornered hat and perfectly round glasses; as if two monocles had been fused together. he reads his own books. this is ben. oh ben. why do you add to the ever confusing life i lead on the train? why must you read your own book? isn't that rather... self-indulgent?
in the row in front of ben and me, there was a man (be-kippahed) calmly flipping through a small talmud. to our right, another man with a pocket sized bible, thumbing the pages. three seats ahead, sits a man, his nose deep in his qu'ran.
what a place i live in. oh ben.