Or maybe I should ask the question "What's Luck Got to do with US?", and by US, I mean My Dad, My sister (some of you know her as "Nana"), or me. Luck has nothing to do with US... not often. My Dad used to love this insane 'rednecky' show that came on t.v. called "Hee-Haw", and would always go around singing one of their main songs which quipped "If it weren't for bad luck, i'd have no luck at all..." I don't know if you can really call it bad luck, as I believe that everything happens for a reason, and that sometimes the supposed 'bad lucks' happen to deter us from even worse fates. So maybe we should refer to it as "Strange Luck", or just Uncanny episodes, which are what ensue anytime the three of us try to do things (mostly good things) [which is why I usually stick with evil hehe].
Nana and I were discussing this just today, when she told me of her latest episode, her 'dirty laundry' du jour, which I intend on airing in a few minutes right here for you. We were discussing how we have these ill-fated episodes, sometimes just fall into them when we call ourselves trying to the right thing, or at least we mean well... but it never pans out.
"Daddy!!" I said, "We get it from him, don't we? He was always fooling around and having the most comical episodes, and somehow, we've inherited his curse!"
"Maybe so..." Nana replied, memories of all our family's comedic events flowing back to her... too many to name, and wishing we'd gotten it all on tape somehow, so as to look back and get a good laugh one day. "Maybe we did get it from Daddy."
Is it bad luck? I don't know, you be the judge.
The best Dad in the world, who would never have led any of us into danger, long before I was born, took my other three (future) siblings on a camping trip. They aimed to 'rough it', and Dad was going to show them just how it was done. As the time came near to bed down for the night, Dad urged them all to go and brush their teeth with their fingers (the primitive way) in the nearby "fresh" lake water, which he swore to them was 'just as clean as the water at home'. They trusted him, and headed to the water to try out his suggested method. Brushing along, they look up and lo-and-behold, a nice-sized turd floats by. Needless to say, the brushing ceased immediately.
My parents were also big into horses, cattle and my father owned this old bullwhip, which she told me they were out in the yard playing with. Daddy comes outside, and once again in an effort to 'show them how it's done', takes the whip and brags about his accuracy. He points out a particular leaf in the tree and tells them to watch as he 'hits his mark'. [He always wanted to show us how great he was at everything, and he was, really he was]. So galliantly, he takes the whip and catapults it into the tree towards his target, only to snag the nearby hornets' nest which came crashing down on him inflaming an angry mob of hornets. My sisters left him for dead with the swarm, and Dad, well he proved that he could hit a hornet nest with enough force to make it fall, and in the end it was the Hornets who made their mark of accuracy all over poor Dad. In fact for days his neck was swollen as wide as his head, and he was unable to work for a few days (which didn't dissappoint him very badly at all, as he did enjoy a good vacation).
So it trickled down through the bloodline, as we've managed to deduce. I don't understand why we didn't see it sooner, as we reflected upon some of our own episodes (of course too many to mention, so I can only touch on a couple).
My very own stories, seem to pale in comparison with the magnitude of my father's, but I'll give up one of my own grown-up stories. About 10 years back, I visited some friends in Tampa, who I hadn't seen in some time. I scheduled this trip on the weekend of Mother's Day (which Mom still hasn't forgiven me for-it was the only Mother's Day I ever missed before or since). I was extremely excited to go, as this was my first time actually flying. Quick flight, just about an hour as I sat next to a nice man who allowed me to peek out the window, and no sooner than we were all the way up it seemed the plane descended. My friend picked me up at the airport. She had a couple of errands to run, and so we rode around in the hot Florida humidity in her non-air-conditioned Tercell. No matter, this is gonna be some fun trip and I was pumped... sweat and all.
That evening, we plan to go out to eat and have some fun, this time her boyfriend is with us so I am riding in the back seat. The air has cooled a bit as it is now dark, so I am not sweating nearly as bad as I was earlier... They wanted to stop by and check out a house that they were thinking of buying, so I agree. Some time passes, and I begin to notice a stinging sensation on my legs. *Slap**Slap**Slap* Hmmm, wonder what that is... Maybe that's the end of it. No such luck. More stinging, more biting... So I look down and there are ants crawling all over my legs. [Seems that her neices/nephews had been riding in the car earlier with some sweet concoction that melted all in the back seat]. Lucky me!
I was intent on keeping my spirits up and having a good time, however. Fast-forward to the next day. My friends both had to work that next day, but had planned to take the rest of the week off to visit with me. For now, I was alone in the apartment. 'What to do?' I wondered... They had a video game console, and he'd showed me the games he had, so I thought I would give it a try. I turned on the console, reached down and picked up the controller and got ready to start the game. I took a couple of steps backward, intent on finding a comfy spot on the floor to park myself, misjudged, lost my balance and fell through their glass coffee table. The glass shattered and I had cuts all over my legs. I wasn't sure of the damage, so I went to the bathroom and tried to wash my legs to see how badly I was cut ("Boy this sucks!! Why me?? WTF?!? All I wanted to do was have a nice visit with friends, a trip to Florida!) So, as I get the bleeding under control, I called my friend at work. "Hello?" she says.
"...h-hi, it's me. Listen, I don't know how to tell you this, and I feel really bad about it, but as I was about to play video games, I stepped back, lost my balance and shattered your glass coffee table... I got cut up pretty bad and..."
"Oh my god, are you alright?? Don't worry about the table, it can be replaced-do you need to go to the doctor?"
"No, I'm o.k. I think--the bleeding is under control, I'm bandaged up some but i'll be fine."
"Ok, well see you when I get home... ok?" She says.
"Ok." I reply... "I'm really sorry!"
Well, needless to say that I wasn't very comfortable at all with the cuts on my legs, but still tried to go enjoy a few things. We went to Disney with her brother and his kids, wherein we all got separated and it took us until nearly closing time to find them, so that was the last exhausting straw that broke the camel's back (so-to-speak). I had worn thin from my enthusiasm from the trip and elected to pay extra for an early ticket home. In fact, I was afraid if I didn't, I might not survive the rest of the week. She didn't protest either, and stated that maybe that would give them some time to be off and relax. Went home, apologized to my Mother for missing Mother's Day, haven't missed it since.
I have some others, but I will save them for a rainy day.
On to my sister, Vickie ("Nana"), who is my eldest sister. She gave us many fond memories of her very own episodes. Her two daughters and I (only a year apart, each of us), always loved to go to the store when we were very small. It seemed we were always going somewhere, but never got to go to the stores. In fact, my neice Kristie and I remember pretending to "steer" the car with our bodies, hoping--PRAYING that it would miracalously guide the car into the nearest grocery store or convenince store so we could get ice cream or candy. On this particular day, we were excited to be going to Kroger's grocery store (always a big event). Something was very wrong, though. Vickie had stopped the car, but she wasn't getting us ready to go in.
"Come on Vickie!!!" I plead, "Let's go in!" My neices were excited too... (pause)
"No, i'm sorry we can't go in" says Vickie, frantic... "We're going home."
"BUT WHY!?!?!?!" we all cry in our most annoying adolescent voices.
"I Peed My Pants!!! OKAY?!?!" [Silence... sad faces... it was no use, the party was over]. So much for bladder control, and so much for our big trip to the store.
I guess it's something we're blessed with for life, as she just told me today of her very latest episode. Now, i've told you before that our family is not big on drinking. My Mom has a glass of red wine once in a while "for medicinal purposes", and that's about it. When we do any drinking, it usually ends up resulting in some type of episode, whether it be the fault of us or those we're drinking with.
Oh, it's harmless enough but I got a giggle when she told me. Seems that she and her husband had done some "Marguarita" drinking over the weekend, and as she slept late she got up (I guess still slightly affected by the alcohol, and a bit giddy), she went to the window and saw my brother-in-law (her hubby) out in the yard working. Feeling saucy, she thought she'd give him a thrill and 'flash him some boob'. He got an eyefull he did (as much an eyefull as she could give him, as she's not extremely endowed in the hooter department). Unfortunately, so did their neighbor who was up in the shed, and at the window. Her husband later asked her "Did you not know he was there?" [Ahhh perhaps her very own version of Grandma's Gone Wild?? Sounds like a seller].
She replied frantically "No!! If I knew he was there, do you think I would've done that?!?" Everyone got an asthmatic cackle out of it needless to say, and she stated that she later went out to investigate the location he was standing to see if there was a 'good view from the window'. Indeed there was a very clear view.
I jokingly asked her if that was her "Signal" letting him know that breakfast was ready, and she laughed... Guess she'll know the truth if the neighbor begins to visit more frequently... or if he happens to stop coming by altogether!! :)
Or if he happens to make a wrong move, she can always just 'Bust him one (or two)' [or maybe not]...
Maybe you should all wish the three of us luck... then again, maybe we've already had enough!