I have a red Saturn.

It's a car. A very good car. The best car I've ever had and I highly recommend purchasing a Saturn for anyone who really doesn't usually like cars. They're relatively easy in the upkeep department and this one tends to tolerate my general tendency to run cars into the ground.

As I stood outside and had a cigarette, looking at my car because there wasn't really anything else to look at out there, I noticed something curious about my car. This is something I haven't noticed about my car in the many years that I have had it.

I never really looked at the license plate before. I didn't even have my license plate number memorized. I do now: VND 42Y

Forty-two is the answer to the question of Life the Universe and Everything. The letter Y sounds exactly like the word "WHY" indicating a question.

If you look at the license plate upside down, the letters VND look curiously akin to the initials for Douglas Adams: DNA.

So the question to the answer of life, the universe and everything could very well be: "What is the number on Zach Garland's license plate?" Forty-two.

This has absolutely no significance whatsoever, but it is coincidentally incredibly unusual. I received my license plate randomly. Of all the random combinations of letters and numbers that I could have received from the Texas motor authorities, I received something that is cryptically significant to me, although coincidentally insignificant to the rest of the world.

Insert the theme to Twilight Zone here.