Saturday, September 26, 2009

Day 49 - Coincidence? You Make the Call

September 26th , 2009

Last week deep in the depths of the suburbs of San Francisco, I was watching Sesame Street with my niece. This particular episode was brought to me by the letter R and number 7. In one vignette, multiracial kids were sitting on a stoop with a “safe” adult. It occurred to me that my neighborhood in Brooklyn is pretty much an exact replica of the locale for this children's television series. Can I tell you how to get to Sesame Street? Funny you should ask because yes, yes I can. Just take the F train to the Bergen stop.

On the urban stairs, the man started to play a tune with his small-bodied guitar. I don’t recall what the song was about so let’s just say it pertained to the 1917 Russian Revolution that lead to civil war and the creation of a communist government. As the song gained momentum, passer buyers with their own instruments in hand, started to join the original group on the stoop. One man just happened to be walking by with his uncased 40 pound double bass. I was just relieved that this guy found a band in the making that(at that very moment) needed a ginormous instrument that could provide tones in a low-pitched range. What were the chances? I took pause and was reminded that throughout my life, I’ve had a hard time ignoring a good coincidence.

Such occurrences tend to present themselves quite frequently in commercials. My first recollection of a solid coinkidink was the televised ad for REESE’S peanut butter cups in the early 80’s . A strapping man eating chocolate and a pretty lady eating peanut butter (with a spoon out of the tub… who doesn’t?) turn opposite corners and their edibles collide. “You stuck your chocolate in my peanut butter!” You stuck your peanut butter in my chocolate!” Giggling, the birth of my favorite dessert and a solid introduction to sexual education ensued. Also, every jewelry commercial seems to have at least one obligatory advertisement that involves a man giving a woman a diamond engagement ring in some Italian Piazza. Cut to the "to be married” couple spinning around in glee. It seems conveniently coincidental that she always says yes. I guess her rejecting the proposal would make the rest of their Italian getaway rather awkward. ‘”I just need more time because I’m sleeping with your best friend.” Next up: pantyhose commercials: Finding the perfect close fitting woman’s garment will undoubtedly inspire attractive shiny haired white teethed women to prance around town to celebrate finding a pantyhose that flatters the contour of their figures. I’ve been happy a lot in my life. Seldom have I had the urge to express that joy through exaggerated mobility. However, I assume it will happen when I get a marriage proposal in an Italian piazza while wearing some kick ass pantyhose.

3 other Jax observed coincidences:

1) The formation of the Village people exemplifies a gay as in happy accident. The universe connected a homosexual police officer, Indian, cowboy, construction worker, biker, & a military man that just wanted to sing. The sum of their parts..really was..magical.
2) Girls I’m not friends with all just happen to drink appletinis , watch Grey’s Anatomy and sing along to “I will Survive”.
3)Any type of ailment you go to at the health center in college will be diagnosed as “pink eye”.
SCENARIOS -

You: I think I have an ingrown toenail.
Doctor: Nope, it’s pink eye.

You: I’m a little itchy. I assume it’s from partaking in many random acts of unsafe promiscuous sex.
Doctor: Think again. It is most definitely pink eye.

You: I have this problem..it’s in my eye..it’s pink…
Doctor: I’ve never seen this before. It’s safe to assume that it’s incurable and you have a 3-5 business days to live. I suggest that you get your affairs in order.

Blog reader, as you know..I feel a connection between us. You might burn your hand on a stove. I assure you that I will feel your burn. My burn. Our burn.

I leave you with an incident that is sure to blow your mind. A plane leaves O’Hare airport at exactly 125 miles per hour. At the SAME time a man in Little Rock, Arkansas buys a pound of ground beef. Coincidence? You Make the Call.

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