I have a theory. Actually I have many theories, like the one about the age of a pet rising in direct correlation to its usefulness to the household (case in point: cats live longer than dogs, and small dogs live longer than big dogs – but that’s for another post). This theory, though, will be of interest to anyone who has ever wondered why they are never the ones on whom Lady Luck shines her lantern.
I’m not really a believer in Fate in the true, predestined sense, but I do believe there are some fated situations in our lives. It’s kind of a bank of events, good or bad. One of my theories is that we each have a million to one event in us. This might be for good or bad. The ones we hear about are generally the lucky ‘one in a million’ people – the lottery winners, the lucky break movie stars and so on. There’s another group of lucky ‘one in a millioners’ – those born lucky. The accidents of birth that put the next baby soul in line into the womb of a celebrity or Royalty. There’s also a whole bunch of not so fortunate ‘one in a millioners’. These are the poor unfortunates who happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, every time. One guy was struck by lightning FOUR times. A woman was in the Toronto Eaton Centre when a gunman started shooting. She survived that one, only to be caught in another random shooting in the US just days later. Still another Millioner group are the random event people. These are the ones who don’t even realise they’ve had their one in a million chance, and so go through life in blissful ignorance, assuming that some day, they might actually win the lottery. But they won’t through some random event in their past. This reality struck me hard when I realised that my one in a million chance had been used up on the day of my BIRTH !! Now, I realise that we are all one in a million events, in fact one in a billion, given that the average man will produce over a half billion sperm cells in their lifetime, most of which will end their days in a Kleenex. No, my event relates to the date of my birth. I’m going to reveal my age here, but I was born on one of just two days in a century that would result in my 18th birthday falling on a palindrome date. I also shared my birthday with my grandfather. Now the odds of being born on any particular day in a century are only 1:36500 or thereabouts, and I’m no Math major, but I’m pretty sure the odds stack up if you tried to hit a specific date from nine months out if you factor in the chances of conception in any given intercourse, my mother’s menstrual cycle (ewwww) and variations in the actual human gestation period.
So if you are one of the lucky ones with a lottery winning luck quotient, say thanks to all the dumb shmucks who wittingly or unwittingly contributed to your new found fortune when they bought a ticket in the absolute certainty that theirs was not a number with a hope of winning. You’re welcome.