he midterm exams are now finished, with my second section of Intro to Theology seeming more amiable about the affair. During the exam, while keeping a watchful eye for untoward shenanigans – particularly tacky in a Theology course – I went rifling through the pockets of my sport coat. I hadn't worn this particular jacket in a while, it being a tweed jacket with patches on the elbows in grand collegiate tradition. It's a sentimental favourite of mine, having my my best friend and roommate David's during undergraduate. (He's the orange-haired fellow in the icon.) Since I raided his closet so often for it, he let me keep it when I went off to Notre Dame.
Going through my jacket pockets is like leafing through a random yearbook for me, as I usually have years-old mementos in their, left precisely for the reason of discovering old memories. In this particular jacket, I found today a ticket for a production of Love In The Title
by Hugh Leonard, which I saw staged in Dublin's famed Abbey Theatre
on Tuesday 6 April 1999, and rather enjoyed, I recall, though I'm afraid I remember nothing of the story. The funny thing is, that at random tired and idle moments over the last month, I've been playing on my copy of Google Earth and marking up my various journeys around the world. I went through Dublin a few weeks ago, noting the Theatre
, but having to leave a blank for the name of the play I'd seen, hoping that I'd figure it out in future, because I just couldn't remember what it was, although I was sure I had a ticket tucked away somewhere. And now I found it, just in time to fill in that gap in my entry.
I had to like the neatness of the timing. It reminds me of something I found in my old black journal/theology/lyrics notebook just the other day, where I described the action of grace as "the symmetry of happenstance."