So we've all heard the saying 'shit happens'. Maybe it was Forrest Gump who first said it, maybe someone totally unknown to us (Forrest Gump by another name). Basically it means that the world, or some diabolical creator, or demon, either/or is going to rain on our parade with all sorts of crap we didn't expect. It happens a lot. If it hasn't happened to you, then look out, fate is probably saving up for a whopper.
But that's not really what I want to talk about, I want to talk about the opposite. Or not quite, I want to talk about when 'shit happened' but then it 'unhappened'. I think luck smiles on me in this respect. I was never lucky with raffles or horses, or anything like that. That was my father and brother. I was the opposite, and learned very quickly to stay away from games of chance. Instead, my luck was elsewhere, or perhaps it was a guardian angel, or a benevolent god. Anyway, I have a story to tell, about shit unhappening (because that's what us storytellers do - we tell stories).
The instance of shit unhappening I remember best was really the first time that I ever took notice of it, and I noticed because it was so very stark. It happened before my wife and I were married, many years ago. I was at university, and didn't have much in the way of money. Gennie, my fiancée, was just starting her nursing studies and had made enough money to buy a car. One Sunday we decided to go for a drive. We pooled the small amount of cash we had (the banks being closed and ATMs a thing of the future) and filled the car with petrol (gasoline for the North Americans). We only drove a little ways to lunch before our long drive, but soon noticed a strong petrol smell, and noticed that the petrol tank was loosing petrol at an extraordinary rate. We'd left the petrol cap at the petrol station. Driving along the wind had sucked almost two thirds of the tank away (it being a very hot day).
We managed to get back to the petrol station but there was no sign of the cap. We didn't even have enough money to buy a temporary cap. We retraced out steps in the car, looking for the cap in case it had fallen off the car near the petrol station - but to no avail. Gennie was distraught, so we pulled over in a deserted street, empty on the weekend because it was fairly industrial. No one was in sight, no other cars were parked nearby. Gennie proceeded to have a good cry. While holding her I noticed something blowing towards us in the wind. It was about thirty or forty dollars in bills. We collected them looking for an owner, but there was no one.
It turned out that the money we had found let us buy a new petrol cap and re-fill the car with petrol. Hardly any change to spare Shit had unhappened, and not for the last time.
But that's not really what I want to talk about, I want to talk about the opposite. Or not quite, I want to talk about when 'shit happened' but then it 'unhappened'. I think luck smiles on me in this respect. I was never lucky with raffles or horses, or anything like that. That was my father and brother. I was the opposite, and learned very quickly to stay away from games of chance. Instead, my luck was elsewhere, or perhaps it was a guardian angel, or a benevolent god. Anyway, I have a story to tell, about shit unhappening (because that's what us storytellers do - we tell stories).
The instance of shit unhappening I remember best was really the first time that I ever took notice of it, and I noticed because it was so very stark. It happened before my wife and I were married, many years ago. I was at university, and didn't have much in the way of money. Gennie, my fiancée, was just starting her nursing studies and had made enough money to buy a car. One Sunday we decided to go for a drive. We pooled the small amount of cash we had (the banks being closed and ATMs a thing of the future) and filled the car with petrol (gasoline for the North Americans). We only drove a little ways to lunch before our long drive, but soon noticed a strong petrol smell, and noticed that the petrol tank was loosing petrol at an extraordinary rate. We'd left the petrol cap at the petrol station. Driving along the wind had sucked almost two thirds of the tank away (it being a very hot day).
We managed to get back to the petrol station but there was no sign of the cap. We didn't even have enough money to buy a temporary cap. We retraced out steps in the car, looking for the cap in case it had fallen off the car near the petrol station - but to no avail. Gennie was distraught, so we pulled over in a deserted street, empty on the weekend because it was fairly industrial. No one was in sight, no other cars were parked nearby. Gennie proceeded to have a good cry. While holding her I noticed something blowing towards us in the wind. It was about thirty or forty dollars in bills. We collected them looking for an owner, but there was no one.
It turned out that the money we had found let us buy a new petrol cap and re-fill the car with petrol. Hardly any change to spare Shit had unhappened, and not for the last time.
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