Multiples of Multiples

A bit late with this post, given the nature of travel today, plus weather that was about as uncooperative as you can get. Oh, all was well in Hawaii. No, the problem was everywhere else. Even my strategy of chartering a corporate jet didn't pan out. Aimed at Toronto, got to Des Moines.

From that jewel of an Iowan town, we then tried again for Toronto, and this time at least made the Canadian border, then on to -- North Bay. Finally reached Toronto, where the airport was slowly getting back to normal after a behemoth of an ice storm.

What made all this bearable was a absorbing conversation with a Swedish diplomatic attaché who had been assigned to Ottawa, and had asked to accompany me. He had offered to cover all his expenses, but I waived any payment in this regard. You never know when you might need a Swedish friend. Besides, he knew mystery writer Henning Mankell, and we had a good discussion on just what drove Mankell's all-pervasive sense of gloom. Something to do with a type of meatball, but I digress.

What we also discussed was, to me, fascinating. My travelling companion mentioned the work of a little known but very brilliant geneticist, whose name I purposely refrain from mentioning. You will see why in a moment.

This geneticist has claimed proof that there are only twenty-three people in the world. The current world population, then, are multiples of these twenty-three basic types.

At first, I rejected this. I mean, really. Twenty-three out of billions?

Further reflection, however, gave me pause.  I recalled an incident not that long ago where I thought I saw my Aunt Maud at an estate sale. (I was after a Modigliani that I knew was on offer.) I leaned forward and in a too loud voice said,  "Hey, Maudie, it's me!"

The woman turned, annoyed, and I realized it wasn't my aunt, but a complete stranger. I apologized, but the resemblance was uncanny.
I then remembered several other instances where something similar had occurred. Multiples. Goodness, what if the geneticist is right?
And, dear reader, I invite you to think of any instances in your own experience. Just for devilment, say.

Oh, and I was successful in obtaining the Modigliani.