Who says you can't go home again?

Or is it something else? Anyway we do live in a small world. And here are just two examples . Both happened a few years ago at the casino poker table. (That's a story for another time.) So there I am 1200 miles from home in Tampa Florida, a few years ago. My wife and I are in Florida for a few weeks to get away from the winter weather. And in Tampa because a good friend of mine lives there. We were scheduled to stay with my friend starting the next day, so this night we were at a motel nearby. My wife decided take a nap that afternoon and I went to the local dog track/poker room. I signed in to wait for an opening at a low limit table and was called to take my seat after a few minutes. On my way thru the room (about 50 tables) I was surprised to see my younger brother already seated at one with cards in hand. This is my brother, recently retired from a large New York insurance company and living 150 miles south of Tampa. Small world.

Another moment in time happened  closer to home (90 miles). Again while visiting (this time my youngest daughter) I stopped in the local riverboat to try my luck. When I was seated at the table none of the other players seemed familiar. After a few hands I struck up a conversation with the player next to me. Come to find out he was from my home town (Paxton) and was one year ahead of me in school. From that chance meeting miles form home our friendship has grown. In fact only my wife spends more time with  me now than Dan. We golf all summer and last winter we exchanged visits while in Florida. He stays in Venice and I stay in Aurburndale.

Speaking of Florida, a third example has come to mind. While in Florida two years ago I happened to be in a local financial institution waiting to see someone. I was seated in the lobby munching on some complimentary snacks when a another customer asked me how the snacks tasted. Well the face was way different but I recognized the voice right away, another coworker retired from IDOT who I had not seen for many years Bill Beck. Come to find out he was living in the park I was renting in, 10 miles from the scene of our chance meeting. Go figure.