Even though I don’t live in a big town we still have a population of almost 200 000 which is big enough to avoid people you don’t like and to go out all day and not see one person you know.Because of this I find the following ‘scenario’ to be quite remarkable.
Hagar (my twenty year old son) was very good mates with a young lad named Tom, from the age of eight up to the present time.
Naturally, I became friends with his Mum and Dad, Leslie and Tony; after many hours spent watching basketball games together and organising play dates etc.
Thaddeus (my twenty-three year old son) was also in the same class at school as Tom’s sister Amy.
Long before the boys met, when I was a little girl growing up, Leslie and her sister Wendy and her brother lived one street away from me.
I didn’t know them at all, but my little brother Damo was best buddies with Leslie’s brother for about twenty years.
In her teenage years, my sister Sam was also friends with Leslie and Tony.
Leslie’s sister Wendy, now lives one street away from me and her daughter is friends with my daughter, Lulu.Scotto, by chance, happens to work with Tony and one of Tony’s nephews, Matty.
I interviewed Tony’s sister-in-law (who is a teacher) as part of the research for my Honours Thesis and found out after the fact who her in-laws were.
Another of Tony’s nephews, James, was in a musical production I directed years ago.
Is it just me or are our families oddly connected in some way?
Just as a final note, when I googled my town’s population for accuracy in reporting today, the first site that came up was an article written by journalist Tony… that’s weird.
If that doesn’t impress you this story may, as Sydney has a much bigger population with an impressive 4.6 million people.
When I was about twenty I applied for a job at a Sydney radio station and was interviewed by the Sales Manager, Peter Smith (that was his real name by the way).
After perusing my resume he told me that seventeen years ago he had spent a couple of years working in my home town as a television news reader. For some reason he took a liking to me that day and gave me the job.
After about three months I mentioned that my parents were visiting from home. Peter, who loved any excuse to scarper off and have a boozy lunch (remember we worked in the Sales Department) suggested he take me and my parents out to lunch (compliments of Paul Keating) at his favourite restaurant on the rooftop of the opulent Boulevard Hotel in Kings Cross.
After about one hour of awkward dialogue (between my parents and their daughter's boss) and sumptuous wining and dining, the luncheon conversation drifted towards our home town and where Peter had worked and resided during the year or so he’d lived there.
“The wife and I used to live beside an electrician bloke who had a couple of poodles,” he mused.
Mum and Dad stared at him. After a couple of enlightening revelations it transpired that Peter Smith had resided in the apartments beside my parents, and had actually babysat me and my sister when we were about six and three years old respectively.
If that doesn’t impress you this story may, as Sydney has a much bigger population with an impressive 4.6 million people.
When I was about twenty I applied for a job at a Sydney radio station and was interviewed by the Sales Manager, Peter Smith (that was his real name by the way).
After perusing my resume he told me that seventeen years ago he had spent a couple of years working in my home town as a television news reader. For some reason he took a liking to me that day and gave me the job.
After about three months I mentioned that my parents were visiting from home. Peter, who loved any excuse to scarper off and have a boozy lunch (remember we worked in the Sales Department) suggested he take me and my parents out to lunch (compliments of Paul Keating) at his favourite restaurant on the rooftop of the opulent Boulevard Hotel in Kings Cross.
After about one hour of awkward dialogue (between my parents and their daughter's boss) and sumptuous wining and dining, the luncheon conversation drifted towards our home town and where Peter had worked and resided during the year or so he’d lived there.
“The wife and I used to live beside an electrician bloke who had a couple of poodles,” he mused.
Mum and Dad stared at him. After a couple of enlightening revelations it transpired that Peter Smith had resided in the apartments beside my parents, and had actually babysat me and my sister when we were about six and three years old respectively.
It wound up being an extra-long lunch that day and typical of advertising sales executives in the eighties, no one went back to work.
Peter left the radio station shortly after that and ironically relocated to my old home town where he and his wife renewed their friendship with my parents.
Out of loyalty and a lack of sales ability, I resigned very soon after Peter did and guess where I gained employment? The sales department at the Boulevard Hotel of course.
Peter left the radio station shortly after that and ironically relocated to my old home town where he and his wife renewed their friendship with my parents.
Out of loyalty and a lack of sales ability, I resigned very soon after Peter did and guess where I gained employment? The sales department at the Boulevard Hotel of course.
Any weird coincidences in your life?
