I’m not one to toot my horn, but it was quite a column I failed to get in on time last week. 

My computer picked that morning to malfunction with absolutely no consideration for my desperate time-frame. But with dogged determination, this crusader-for-justice would not be silenced, in spite of the computer-deadline conspiracy.

I’m not a big Facebook guy, but can copy and paste and so I did. If you stubbornly missed it, I chronicled a rogue Nissan towed, then pushed into my parking space while I was gone. This maddening intrusion lasted a week, with enough calls to the police to fear having my number blocked.

As the comments and suggestions poured in, someone mentioned that misleading adage: “It’s a small world.” I’m not a big Google guy, (it has absolutely ruined the fun of trivia), but made an exception to learn the total size of the earth is 197 million square miles. If that’s small, then my waist is thin and my hairline thick.

But a comment thread convinced me while it’s a huge world, it’s peppered with odd coincidences. One comment was from old Cody friend and longtime car salesman Scott Reid, who moved back East many years ago. If I might quote the smooth wordsmith: “Ha ha; beautiful, brother.”

Next day, I received on online message from my molecular scientist nephew Derrick McVicker, only child of my beautiful late sister Wanda, “That Scott Reid guy that commented was a client of my wife’s.” I replied articulately, “Get OUT!”

With the probing skills of a proctologist, I tracked both parties to residences in Madison, Wis., where Derrick’s bride Morgan works for Autotrader, facilitating Scott’s dealership. That is some wild and wacky stuff right there!

But to regress, I spent a fairly traditional Father’s Day for a single man with no children as of this writing – I went to church, sitting next to my brother Paul who is a father. Then I went home to watch the final round of the U.S. Open Golf Tournament.

So how did I manage to drop $20 into the offering plate and still manage to come out with a $55 profit? First, let me state unequivocally – and it really doesn’t get any more conclusive than that – the Bible does not specifically finger gambling as a sin. Contrary to what self-righteous, stock investors might think, there’s not a single “thou shalt not” associated with gambling anywhere in that book, and I’ve searched several pages tirelessly.

Even if it were a sin, the fact I attended church earlier should more than negate any Sunday golf bet. Maybe it was even divine guidance that led me to place that Friday wager on a 25-1 long-shot, Gary Woodland to hoist the silver cup. I mean, it’s a small universe and God works in mysterious ways.

All I know is my man Woody climbed the leader board Friday, took the lead Saturday and remained there through the Sunday finale. 

I’m not a big Wall Street guy, but I’d say a $75 return on a measly $3 bet is pretty wise investment strategy. Stick that in your solid silver pipe and smoke it, William Devane!

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