The magnificent apparatus was a bone of contention. Some considered it an eyesore, even revolting. Others acknowledged this but said its functional purpose, while unknown, forgotten, or misconstrued, surely made its grotesque hugeness tolerable, maybe even attractive. A third group championed the magnificent apparatus with unqualified enthusiasm, an attitude met with mockery by the younger people. A bemused minority didn't give a lick either way. I was both attracted to the magnificent apparatus and repulsed by it. Admirers of the apparatus and its equally vocal detractors eventually came to blows. I remained neutral, publicly, but secretly thought about the apparatus during idle moments, or while locked in my room, or while on jury duty, or while pretending to listen to a friend, perhaps a wonderful friend I hadn't seen in years, with so very much to catch up on. I had to admit that I liked how the magnificent apparatus glistened in the afternoon sun. At times it looked almost alive. I reminded myself that no one else called it the magnificent apparatus but me.