Sarah Dip and Tea

I was having a latte at Caffe Nero this afternoon, perusing a pamphlet from Inner Space that I picked up during today's let's-stroll-through-Covent-Garden-in-the-rain mini-adventure.

I was intrigued by a talk they're sponsoring next month on "Encouraging Serendipity." Just who is this Serendipity (a disgruntled child of a flower-child?) and why does she need bolstering?

ADD turned my attention to a copy of yesterday's G2, which my table's previous patron had so kindly left behind. On the cover was an extreme, and less than flattering, close-up of Mrs Clinton, with the caption "The Power of Tears by Germaine Greer." Having been intrigued by Hillary's bout with the waterworks (or at least the media's coverage of it) and yet not really having read up on it, I found the leftover Guardian to be, well, at least a bit serendipitous.

And then I started wondering if I wasn't confusing serendipity with synchronicity.

Watching Hillary Clinton pretending to get teary-eyed is enough to make me give up shedding tears altogether. The currency, you might say, has become devalued. ... Hillary's feeble display of emotion, while answering questions from voters in a cafe in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, on Monday, is supposed to have done her campaign the world of good. If it has, it's because people have wished a tear into her stony reptilian eye, not because there actually was one.

Okay then. Right. Germaine’s not a big Hillary fan, is she? Although, I will agree (after watching the clip my homestate correspondent forwarded to me) that I'm not certain the big H actually cried. Seems to me she just softened her voice and got all winsome trying to win some votes (apologies to Stephen Schwartz).

As I read Ms Greer's velvety verbage, guess what song was being piped through through the coffee shop's speakers?

Boys Don't Cry.

And I thought, wow! Serendipity! Or was it synchronicity? Or just the miracle of a shuffling soundtrack (and me without my iPod turned on).

And before I misjudge your limits, or push you too far, I'll end this by wondering if perhaps there just is no cure for coincidence?