Many free thinkers observe how we treat events from coincidence as far more structured, meaningful, divine, or whatever else you can add to this list. It comes back to amazing things popping out from mundane times.

This morning I was skipping through the morning paper over my coffee and hash browns. First I looked at the editorials, went over to the entertainment, and oh yes, I'm a "y" chromosome so off to the jock section. The big late night talk shows are on a post-February-slash-sweeps week off so I had recorded a smaller first-run one to serve as background hoo-hah and so it was playing in front of me. The sports section's potpourri writer's column was in my gaze and I read a line in which a former fearsome heavyweight boxer was on, what else, a talk show but of the day time variety grimacing at footage of himself in past corpulent mode and remarking, "I was the Michigan man."

The columnist observed he must have meant the Michelin Man. Just as my eyes landed there the television host, maybe ten minutes into the show's run and after commercials I had skipped, said a line about being the Michelin Man himself. He had been leading up to this with a light rant about the about-to-retire space shuttle having tires which are supposed to explode on landing.

A serpentine path of fixing breakfast, restless newspaper sampling, and playing an obsolete recording mode had led to this. Whether it's on a cave wall, page on a spiral tablet or in a blog, we record these marvels. At least this space case is impressed.