The second coincidence.
The second incident took place around the same time and also had to do with jazz. I was in a used-record store near the Berkeley School of Music one afternoon, checking out the records. Rummaging around in old shelves of LPs is one of few things that makes life worth living, as far as I’m concerned. On that particular day I’d located a used copy of Pepper Adams’s recording for Riverside called 10 to 4 at the 5 Spot. It was a live recording of the Pepper Adams Quintet, with Donald Byrd on trumpet, recorded in New York at The Five Spot jazz club. “10 to 4,” of course, meant ten minutes till four o’clock, meaning that they played such a hot set they went on till dawn. This copy of the album was a first pressing, in mint condition, and was going for only seven or eight dollars. I owned the Japanese version of the record and had listened to it so much it was all scratched. Finding an original recording in this good shape and at this price, to exaggerate a little, was like a minor miracle. I was overjoyed as I bought the record, and just as I was exiting the shop a young man passed me and asked, “Hey, do you have the time?” I glanced at my watch and automatically answered, “Yeah, it’s ten to four.”
After I said this I noticed the coincidence and gulped. What in the world is going on? I wondered. Was the god of jazz hovering in the sky above Boston, giving me a wink and a smile and saying, “Yo, you dig it?”
Neither one of these incidents was anything special. It wasn’t like my life turned in a new direction. I was simply struck by strange coincidences–that things like this actually do happen.