Talking About Luck

“Gloom, despair, and agony on me

Deep, dark depression, excessive misery

If it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all

Gloom, despair, and agony on me”

(From the television show Hee Haw)

The outside faucet was dripping.  So, I tightened the knob . . . after all, that is what a person is supposed to do when the faucet drips—you tighten the knob.  The knob then went from a drip to a stream.  Was told I need to replace the parts inside the faucet.  Went to get the parts and found out that they no longer make the parts . . . I am still trying to figure out when I ticked off the faucet gods.

In my attempt to figure out when I ticked off the faucet gods, I decided to get a beer to make the matter a little more spiritual.  When to the refrigerator in the garage where I keep the beer . . . there was no beer.  Contemplating such theological matters as drippy faucets is not a matter for wine . . . even though I was doing plenty of whining.  Such matters are left to the spiritual practices of crying in one’s beer . . . but, there was no beer.  Now, I had to contemplate when in the world did I tick off the beer gods.

I thought I would sit in the living room in my recliner.  Went to turn on the light and the bulb blew with a mighty pop.  I stood in darkness as I stumbled to find a light bulb . . . yep, you guessed it . . . no light bulbs anywhere in the house.  So, I returned to my recliner, sat in the dark, without a beer, and contemplated . . . when did I tick off the gods of the faucet, the gods of the beer, and the gods of the light bulbs?

Such heavy theological discernment weighed heavily upon my mind . . . made it hurt . . . but, somehow I fell asleep.  Waking several hours later I thought I had better go to bed before the wife realized I wasn’t there . . . turns out she never gave it a thought . . . guess I am high on her list of priorities!  But, waking several hours later, I jumped out of the recliner and stepped directly on one of the family dogs.  She started yelping.  This woke the other dog who started barking.  I started yelling.  Soon the whole house was awake and everyone was ticked off at me for waking them all up.  Woes me, another set of gods ticked off.

Four sets of gods ticked off . . . I was on a roll.  So, I went to bed . . . or at least I got into bed . . . and laid there.  I laid there and watched the ceiling fan spin round and round . . . I watched the digital glow-in-the-dark alarm clock change with each minute . . . I listened to the dogs snore . . . I listened to the wife snore.  I tossed and turned.  It is no fun ticking off four sets of gods . . . no cake walk upsetting the karma of the known world.  There I laid until thirty minutes before I had to get up to go to work . . . I slept through the alarm . . . got up a whole hour later than normal.  I was running late!  The gods of sleep were playing tricks on me . . . oh no!  Another set of gods were mad!

Running an hour behind makes one do stupid things.  I took an ice cold shower because I couldn’t wait for the water to get hot.  I sped to work, much to the chagrin of the Montana Highway State Patrol who gave me a ticket for my efforts.  Got to work late, missed a meeting, and forgot my keys.  At lunch, they screwed up my order.  Everyone was grumpy towards me.  Nothing I did was right.  The whole day long I felt out of place and wondering what in the world did I do to deserve such luck.

The drive home was not much better.  Traffic was the worse I had seen in months . . . had to wait for a train . . . got behind a granny from Wyoming (the worse possible combination in the world) . . . near missed three deer . . . and, was stopped by the local yokel and given a warning for not slowing down entering town!  Four members of the church walked by while I was waiting for my warning.  Pulled into the driveway and saw water running down the street from our house . . . the drippy faucet was now a full-fledged tsunami.  I wondered how many gods of bad luck I had thoroughly ticked off in less than twenty-four hours.

Life was looking pretty bleak.  The sound track of my life was of the Hee Haw crew singing Gloom and Despair . . . especially that part about “if it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.”  The saddest part of it all was that I forgot to stop and get some beer!

The truth be told . . . outside of the drippy faucet, none of this really happened.  That does not mean that I have not been having my run of bad luck lately . . . because I have.  You name it and I probably come close to it when it comes to bad luck.  It is like there is some sort of conspiracy against me . . . like all the gods of life got together and started plotting against me.  Some sort of bad karma.  Yet, that is the Keener mantra . . . if it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.

Now, I believe in only one God . . . to tell you the truth, that is all the God I can handle.  There are not lots of miniscule gods out there in the world plotting against me . . . though it sure makes a good excuse.  There is no karma . . . I am not paying for past rights and wrongs against others . . . no, I just made some dumb choices and the consequences of those choices are coming back to bite me in the butt.  Karma?  Naw, just stupid decisions.  Being in control of my destiny . . . I wish.  I feel good if I put on matching socks in the morning (which isn’t too difficult when one only owns white and black socks).  I don’t think we make our own luck.  The reason I don’t think that we make our own luck is because—as they say in Alcoholics Anonymous—poop happens.  Seems I have been stepping in it a lot lately.

Yet . . . I am still here.  I have not run away (though, at times, that sure sounded like a good idea).  I have not quit . . . though the thought passed through.  I have not blamed others . . . though there are a few people I would love to blame.  Nope, I have stuck to where I have been placed . . . even without the beer . . . and, I have waited for the consequences.  Sure, it makes me worry, but I am not alone in my waiting . . . God is with me.  God is with me no matter what the consequences might be.  God understands me . . . knows that if it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.  God is with me . . . and, this amazes me.

Amazes me because I would have thrown in the towel a long, long time ago . . . cut my losses; but God sticks with me.  For that I am thankful.  I just hope I don’t go and tick off the one God I do believe in.  At this point in my life . . . if I can’t afford to tick off the gods I don’t believe, I surely do not want to do it to the one that I do believe in.  Oh, gloom and despair . . . is it really about luck or just another day in our lives?

Time to Tell

        "Gloom, despair and agony on me-e!

        Deep dark depression, excessive misery-y!

        If it weren't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all!

        Gloom, despair and agony on me-e-e!"

(Hee Haw Television Show)

It all began with a tweet on Twitter.  The daughter tweeted: “I have signed up to win @TheEllenShow 's 12 days of give aways, every day and it is just a nice reminder that I never win anything...”  I think she is beginning to get a clearer picture . . . that she is beginning to suspect that something isn’t quite right . . . especially when it comes to Keeners and luck.  I guess it is about time to come clean and let everyone know . . . Keeners and luck do not dance well together.  As the song said, “If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all!”

I am not sure exactly when I learned of this deep dark curse that has afflicted (I would imagine) Keeners for generation.  With perfect 20/20 hindsight it is easier to see the patterns, but when it is happening . . . bad luck, that is . . . it is pretty darn difficult to see.  The truth of the matter is that we Keeners have lousy luck . . . especially when it comes to playing in contests for big prizes.  It is so bad, that I do not see my buying a lottery ticket as a chance to win something big . . . nope, I see it as an act of charity . . . as my donation to support the luck of someone else . . . of doing my part.  Why? Because I never win!  It is time that my children learn this fateful curse.

I imagine I should have told them this from the very beginning, or at least when they were old enough to understand; but I thought that they would grasp the curse a lot sooner . . . after all, they are all smart.  Or so I thought . . . now I am not so sure, when I see them entering contests, buying lottery tickets, and betting on the moon . . . I am not so sure.  So, here it is . . . we Keeners have no luck.  Save your money.  Don’t bet on things.  Don’t enter contests.  Avoid ladders.  Don’t break mirrors.  Walk in the opposite direction of black cats.  Never . . . ever . . . step on a crack and break your mother’s back.  Look both ways before crossing the street . . . look both ways a second time . . . then, run like hell across the street.  Don’t cross yourself before you shoot a free throw . . . you are not Catholic and God doesn’t care whether or not you make the free throw.  Remember, if it weren’t for bad luck, we Keeners would have no luck at all.  Trust me, I know.

I know and it took a long time for me to get beyond the denial.  I should have known and understood it sooner in my own life, but denial is a powerful psychological tool we humans use way too well.  I should have known after that time all of us neighborhood kids were playing soccer.  The ball kept getting kicked up into a neighbor’s yard with two big dogs on chains.  Over and over again, the ball rolled up between those two dogs just lounging there . . . over and over again, someone would go and retrieve the ball . . . not once did anyone get bit by either dog.  At least not until it was my turn to get the ball.  With extreme caution, I approached the ball and dogs . . . the dogs just laid there.  I picked up the ball . . . I felt that I was safe and about to accomplish the task of rescuing the ball . . . then, I turned . . . and one of those darn dogs latched onto my calf with a vengeance . . . torn a good chunk out of my leg.  I was the thirteenth person to go and get the ball . . . yeah, I know . . . the number thirteen . . . luck ran off with number twelve.  I should have known it then.

Another time, and surprisingly, as an adult, I tried my luck once again.  Having watched those cartoons for years of people stepping on a rake and getting smacked in the face, I found myself one day standing before a rake lying in the yard.  Something that was easily avoidable, but my curiosity got the best of me . . . after all, those are things that only happen in cartoons.  I stepped on the rake . . . darn if the rake didn’t end up smacking me in the face.  I should have known it then.

Watching three friends cross a frozen pond . . . yep, I broke the ice and fell into the pond’s icy water.  Getting a bike with hand brakes, forgetting that there were hand brakes . . . I have smashed into a lot of walls.  Getting swatted by my father for some indiscretion and realizing it did not hurt . . . and, then laughing in relief . . . the second spanking hurt.  Buying 99 of the 100 raffle tickets and still not winning the big prize.  Yep, you would have thought I would have figured out this luck thing a lot earlier in life.  We Keeners have no luck!

The problem apparently is that we are slow learners despite our higher intelligence . . . at least that is what I keep telling myself; or, we are eternal optimists.  I think that it is a combination of both.  My superior intelligence keeps me playing the odds that eventually I will win.  Reality keeps laughing in my face.  It ain’t going to happen.

So, children, please understand . . . we Keeners have no luck.  Play it safe.  Oh sure, there are exceptions to the rules, but I just think that it is luck playing with our psyches . . . toying with our emotions . . . being a mean old fart.  Just because we Keeners might win something once in a blue moon, it does not mean that the curse is over.  Luck is a fleeting lover that we rarely ever experience.  Just remember, our luck is bad luck . . . once you can learn to accept that, it gets easier.

I feel much better now that I have gotten that secret out of the closet . . . having known that I have done my parentally thing by letting them know.  I would bet that they get it, but that is probably a bet I wouldn’t win.  Luck, you know.  The Hee Haw gang has been singing our song for years . . . oh, the gloom . . . the despair . . . the excessive misery!  I guess, in the end, bad luck is better than no luck at all!

Isn’t It Ironic

An old man turned ninety-eight

He won the lottery and died the next day

It's a black fly in your Chardonnay

It's a death row pardon two minutes too late

And isn't it ironic... don't you think

It's like rain on your wedding day

It's a free ride when you've already paid

It's the good advice that you just didn't take

Who would've thought... it figures

Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly

He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids goodbye

He waited his whole damn life to take that flight

And as the plane crashed down he thought

"Well isn't this nice..."

And isn't it ironic... don't you think

It's like rain on your wedding day

It's a free ride when you've already paid

It's the good advice that you just didn't take

Who would've thought... it figures

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you

When you think everything's okay and everything's going right

And life has a funny way of helping you out when

You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up

In your face

A traffic jam when you're already late

A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break

It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife

It's meeting the man of my dreams

And then meeting his beautiful wife

And isn't it ironic...don't you think

A little too ironic...and, yeah, I really do think...

It's like rain on your wedding day

It's a free ride when you've already paid

It's the good advice that you just didn't take

Who would've thought... it figures

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you

Life has a funny, funny way of helping you out

Helping you out

(Ironic by Alanis Morissette)

I couldn’t help but to notice this little tidbit in the news . . . a guy in New York was released from prison after serving 23 years for a crime that he did not commit . . . and then, two days after being released he had a heart-attack.  Kind of ironic . . . don’t you think?

Sounds like the guy has my luck.  On the old television show Hee Haw there was a skit in which a bunch of so-called hillbillies are lounging around the front porch of a run-down shack.  They break out in what I have considered to be my theme song when it comes to luck: “Gloom, despair, excessive misery . . . if it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.”  Irony and I have been friends for a long time . . . only sort of luck I know.

As a kid if anything could go wrong for me, it did.  One winter day, while playing in the woods, several of us decided to cross the frozen pond in the creek.  The ice looked firm enough . . . especially after three of my friends traipsed across without even a crack . . . so, off I started.  Half way across the pond there was a loud crack, the ice beneath my feet disappeared, and I was up to my chin in ice cold water . . . much to the delight of my three friends.  Kind of ironic wouldn’t you say?

Another time we were playing a soccer game in our neighborhood.   One off the neighbors had two dogs chained in their yard.  They looked pretty harmless as they laid there ignoring all of us noisy kids playing.  Over and over again the ball would get kicked up into the yard with the two dogs . . . and the dogs never moved as one of us ran up to retrieve the ball.  We probably did that five or six times before it was my turn to retrieve the ball.  Buoyed by the fact that no one before me had even gotten one of the dogs to open its eyes or even flinch, I strolled right up there, picked up the ball, turned around, and was immediately bit right in the calf.  Ironic . . . maybe, but what was more ironic is that two nights later someone poisoned those two dogs while they were quarantined.  Yeah, I’d say ironic.

Irony fills my life . . . probably was not the first person from my graduating high school class that people imagined would be a minister . . . now I have been one for 30 years . . . ironic.  Watch as car after car goes speeding by, finally get the courage to put the pedal to the metal, and immediately get pulled over as everyone else goes speeding by.  Have to go to the bathroom at church, the men’s room is occupied and really have to go, so I hop into the women’s room . . . open the door after taking care of business and I am greeted by the one woman in the whole church you wouldn’t want to run into coming out of the women’s room.  Avoid hitting one deer on the road, two miles down . . . hit a deer.  If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all . . . ironic.

I understand the lyrics to Alanis Morissette’s song quite well . . . I have lived them.  I imagine that the guy, David Ranta, understands them too.  From the very beginning he claimed he was innocent . . . even had someone come forward and confess that someone else did the crime . . . but, he still ended up in prison.  His daughter was two years old when he went into prison and she was there when the judge set him free.  Asked what he wanted to do now that he was free, he smiles and said, “Yeah.  Get the hell out of here, maybe.”  Now, he is in the hospital recovering from a heart attack.  Ironic.

Mother Teresa once said, “I know God won’t give me anything I can’t handle.  I just wish he didn’t trust me so much.”  I know what she means!  At least I have some sort of luck!