It stormed last Friday night so I pulled the Jeep in the garage sideways after my shopping spree so I could open the back to unload without getting everything wet. I made a mental note to straighten it to make room for the van that Mauri would pull in the next morning from his week at the coast. In due time, I headed for the garage. The moment I pressed the garage-door opener was the exact same moment he pressed the one on his visor less than a block from home. We actually cancelled each other out with our perfect timing.
This morning I came home from work at 9 a.m. to meet the carpet cleaner I had scheduled. A Hall’s truck was parked in our driveway—but it was Hall’s Heating and Air Conditioning, there to finish the three-day project of installing a new system in the studio (after 25 years, the old one bit the dust). A few minutes later Hall’s Carpet Cleaning arrived and backed its truck right next to the other truck. Neither company has any connection to the other. I ask you, what are the odds?
Of course, my camera was handy.
I’m not sure I agree that timing is everything, even though I use that expression a lot. But lately timing is at the very least entertaining.