The Red Carpet

My name is Sigmund Shonholtz I am a non-spiritual coincidentalist and S.E.E. "Irony is Destiny" in my world. I have been studying the phenomenon of coincidence since I was 17 years old after having an unusual event. It was 1971, I was driving home down Wilshire Blvd and I noticed a sign for a real estate company, Red Carpet Realitors, it read. I did not think the metaphore of a red carpet was a very good idea for a real estate agency. Ridiculously, I began to wonder what would be a better use for a red carpet for the name of a business. A few minutes later I was stopped at a signal waiting to turn left when I noticed a piece of paper "fluttering" in the wind. It was spinning like a whirling dervish. A car drove by and blew it away, strangely it started spinning towards my open window. I was transfixed by it. Another car drove by and blew it away, again it started towards my window and was blown away. Finally a third car drove by and I asked myself, "What is so important"? The little piece of paper was desperate to tell me something. It finally blew through my open window and fell in my lap. It was blue, I picked it up and turned it over. It read, Red Carpet Auto Parks, it was a parking valet stub. At first I thought, that is a perfect metaphor for a red carpet. Then I got a chill down my spine and I looked up in the sky and wondered about the meaning of it. There are few things more subjective then the meaning of something. It was years before I grasped the worth of the event. It is now a hobby, for many years I was simply a Coincidentalist, now, after spending 42 years on the thought I am a Non-Spiritual Coincidentalist. I have broken the subject down into nearly 20 specific and defined categories. The best part about being a Coincidentalist is that I never know when something extraordinary is going happen. A while back I drove by a sports bar and entered into another ridiculous conversation with myself. I imagined Freud and Einstein at a sports bar. They both ordered a beer and began to chat with the customers about their theories on sex and physics. After a while they realized that nobody was interested. They looked at each other and decided that they were wasting their time with their big ideas. Freud decided to go in another direction and Einstein decided to go back to Bern and the patent office. The instant I finished my useless thought I pulled up behind a car stopped at a signal and realized the license plate read, E=MCSQ. They had actually taken some duct tape and put on the equal sign. What a coincidence. That's all for now