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I’M ONLY A LITTLE piqued at Cecil for having my name co-attributed to a letter I didn’t exactly write (“The Straight Dope,” 11/4). But heck, one must make sacrifices in the interest of science. Unfortunately, I can’t find my copy of the letter I sent four or five years ago, but to straighten the dope: My friends do not think I’m crazy; I am not “convinced my physical presence has the ability to make streetlights burn out;” and I am a great believer in coincidence. Here is the true story of one coincidence I must share.
Last night, my wife and I went out to a restaurant after work. On the way home, we picked up a copy of Washington City Paper, and continued up the street to our apartment. As we passed one streetlight it blinked off. This same streetlight had also turned off as I passed earlier in the week, and I mentioned this to my wife. She said that she had observed the same phenomenon many times before. In our six-year relationship, this topic had not previously surfaced, so we had a lively discussion for the remaining few steps to our building. On the slow elevator ride, I flipped to “The Straight Dope” column, whereupon my jaw dropped as I began reading a letter on this same subject. By the time we discovered that my own name was one of the two at the bottom of the letter, we were laughing uncontrollably. At that moment we might not have been surprised if the elevator door had opened onto…a certain zone.
Neal Duncan, Silver Spring, Md.