“Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” – Humphrey Bogart in “Casablanca.”

I am perturbed by the recent rash of interviewees who enlighten mere peons with the blanket declaration, “There are no coincidences.”

Oh, sure. I believe actions have consequences. I have benefited from hunches and “gut feelings.” I have been helped by guardian angels, although I worry about them talking behind my back. (“SOME angels got to announce the birth of the Prince of Peace. Me? I get to warn an idiot writer not to split an infinitive!”)

But overall, we have too many philosopher wannabes going down the Swedish psychiatrist Carl Jung rabbit hole or pontificating about quantum entanglements.

I understand their frustration, but “Stuff happens” fits on a bumper stick

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