Klutzy or Unlucky: the Numbers Don’t Lie.
Which number is higher: the amount of times you have inadvertently set off someone’s smoke alarm, or the amount of times you have been crapped on by a bird?
I know those things seem random, but there is a point.
As a small child I decided that it would be the height of scientific experimentation to melt Play-Doh in frying pan. My mother disagreed in the strongest terms possible.
I found out a few things that day:
- Play-Doh doesn’t melt as much as it burns.
- Burning Play-Doh gives off a nasty smelling smoke.
- Smoke from burning Play-Doh, will set off a smoke alarm.
- Smoke alarms are loud.
- A screaming mother, upon finding you melting Play-Doh on the stove, is really loud.
- What you see as great scientific discovery, your mother sees as destroying her good pan.
- Stoves are dangerous to a small child.
- Ruining your mother’s favorite pan, is really dangerous to a small child.
- The question “what were you thinking?” is rhetorical, and should by no means be answered.
- The Nobel Prize committee is horribly short-sighted.
That was the first time I set off someone’s smoke alarm.
The second time, I detailed in my post An Act of God?
The third time, I was starting a fire in a friend’s fireplace. (This time was not my fault, but that’s an entire story unto itself.)
How many times I set off someone’s smoke alarm: three.
When I was about ten years old, I was playing tag with some of my cousins in my grandfather’s hay loft. I felt a slap on my back, but when I turned around, there was nobody behind me. I thought this was weird until someone pointed out to me-in between fits of hysterical laughter-that there was a giant load of bird crap on my back of my jacket.
That was the first time a bird crapped on me.
The second time a bird crapped on me, I was playing baseball and the bird crap actually landed in my baseball glove.
The third a bird crapped on me, I was walking down the street, and it landed on my shoulder.
The fourth a bird crapped on me, it landed on my baseball cap. I don’t remember where I was; what I do remember, is it hanging from the bill of my cap.
How many times a bird had crapped on me: four.
By a ratio of 4:3 I’m more unlucky than I am klutzy. (Don’t laugh, it’s science.)
This formula was created by a group of highly regarded scientists who had nothing better to do. They’re the same scientists that McDonalds employed to keep the hot side hot and the cold side cold; they’re that good.
Do the math for yourself; you’ll see that I’m right.