This synchro story posted on Facebook by Michael R. Donohue popped up on my phone the other day. I noticed that two or three people had shared it, so I figured Michael wouldn’t mind my repeating it here. What caught my attention about it is that the subject matter – pudding – reminded me of a well known mind-boggling and humorous synchronicity about pudding. I retell that one after Michael’s story. Here it is:
“Some time ago, I had an odd disturbing dream. I was in a dark creepy haunted house. My mother was there which I would find somewhat disturbing even when she was alive. She had made bread pudding. And I have never had bread pudding as far as I know, and had no clear sense of what it is. In the dream in that house it seemed pretty weird and gross. Being silly, a day or so ago I referred to a Facebook friend’s dessert photo as “blood pudding.”
“This brought that dream to mind. Tonight my son and I went out for dinner and dessert. He ordered bread pudding, of all things. This again put me in mind of the recently remembered dream. I was thinking that seemed like a synchronicity when my gaze fell on a cappuccino machine with “Synchro” emblazened upon it, as pictured. Weirdsville.”
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Okay, that’s a somewhat interesting synchronicity, especially since it came with related art! Haha. However, I probably wouldn’t have copied it for a blog post if the story hadn’t reminded of the baffling series of synchronicities experienced by a 19th century French poet named Emile Deschamps. Synchronicities usually take place instantly when two similar, but unrelated experiences come together.
For example, I (Rob) was getting ready for an interview on a podcast in which the interviewer wanted to talk to us about synchronicity. So I was paging through our book, The Synchronicity Highway, and noticed that in a chapter called, “Critter Coincidences,” we’d written a section about flies. I had no recollection of what that was about, so I started reading it and immediately a fly buzzed past my head. So the two similar but unrelated experiences came together at once.
But in the case of Emile Deschamps, his synchronicities literally took place over decades. Here’s his story.
As a teenager, Deschamps meets a man with a strange name, Monsieur de Fortgibu. De Fortgibu was an immigrant from England, and he introduces Deschamps to a very English dessert: plum pudding.
Ten years went by. One day, Deschamps passes a Paris restaurant that had plum pudding on the menu. He goes inside, only to be told the last of the plum pudding was just sold to a gentleman sitting in the back. Amazingly, Deschamps recognized the man as Mr. de Fortgibu. In one version of this story, de Fortgibu shares that last pudding with Deschamps. In that version, the waiter calls out, “Mr. de Fortgibu, would you be willing to share your plum pudding with this gentleman?” (Hard to imagine that part of the story!)
Years pass, and Deschamps is at a dinner party with some friends.
The host announces that an unusual dessert will be served. You guessed it — plum pudding. Deschamps jokingly says that one of the guests at the party must be Monsieur de Fortgibu. He’s about to tell his plum pudding story when the doorbell rings and an old man enters. Amazingly, Deschamps recognizes him as none other than Mr. de Fortgibu. The doddering old man looks around and realizes that he has knocked on the wrong door. He was invited to a dinner party — but not there.
We told this story before on the blog, maybe a couple of times. So after reading the bread pudding story, it seemed about time to re-tell the famous plum pudding synchro.
Thi s one makes me laugh every time I read it. Trickster.
Me too.