Last night, I was thinking to myself that I hadn't seen Mr. Rogers in a while. Mr. Rogers is a congenial gentleman I met through Toastmasters, who also happens to live in my condo complex. That's right ... I live in Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood. What's more, he and his wife are just too adorable for words. He's always giving me tips about how to conserve energy in my home and car (did you know it's better to turn the A/C all the way to blue, because otherwise you're mixing hot and cold air?). Her manners and style are impeccable - when I'm her age, I hope I look half as good. And when I needed to borrow a leveler to hang curtains, it was the Rogers(es?) to the rescue! I had promised to invite them over sometime for dinner, and last night I was regretting that I hadn't followed up on that.
This morning, who should I run into in the parking lot? Mr. Rogers. We chatted for a few minutes, giving me enough time to renew my invitation and make tentative plans ("sometime later in June - I'll email you!"). I came to work with a smile on my face. Clearly my thoughts had gone out into the universe and caused Mr. Rogers to take out his trash this morning at just the right moment to catch me on my way to my car. But Sri, you might say, isn't it much more likely that it was a coincidence? That's what the ladies at work said, in between fits of laughter. But all merriment immediately ceased when I delivered the coup de grâce:
One of my bosses came in early today, singing:
It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood,
A beautiful day for a neighbor.
Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?
Won't you be ... my neighbor?