One of Dad's friends from uni came round today. Graham his name is. When he came Dad was having a meeting in the garden, so I put my entertaining hat on and had a chat with him, and he seemed very agreeable. He said he was at Lancaster (Dad was too). I said I knew some people at Lancaster and had been to their library. He mentioned Morecambe. I bought a harmonica there once, in the key of F. He said that he studied French and Russian. I said that I knew two people studying French and Russian. He mentioned that he was unemployed. "Ditto", quoth I. He mentioned that someone he knew did a course in journalism at Brighton. I said I knew somebody in Brighton. As a cumulative body of instances of contact between our two lives, it was flipping ridiculous, yet also defiantly credible. Bizarre.