Good Luck. Bad Luck. Who Know?

Last evening was eventful. I had to stay late at work for a late afternoon meeting. So, by the time I left to catch the bus, it was dark out. I waited at the bus stop for awhile, since the bus was it's usual 10 minutes late. As the Fairfax Connector 162 (my bus) rolled down Fordson Road toward me I got my Metro card out of my wallet. Then raised my hand to flag the bus driver. Then waved excitedly. Then waved frantically. As the bus rolled right no by.

So, I went back to the office. Fired off a frustrated email to the bus company. And then waited dutifully another 30 minutes for the next bus to cycle through. I walked out of the office door at my usual five minutes before it is scheduled to arrive only to see the 162 rolling down Fordson Road. Ahead of schedule!!!

By now it was an hour since I had initially left work. I wasn't going to wait another half hour for the 162. So I walked over a block to US Route 1 for one of the many buses that go along that major highway. Knowing all the ones going north stop at the Huntington Metro where I could catch my usual Yellow Line train toward Alexandria. I got on the DC Metro 11A bus. The driver saw me and stopped. And in 10 minutes I got off at the Metro station. There by luck I saw the Route 9A DC Metro bus. Which (I know because I'm observant) stops a block from our house in Alexandria. So I went from the 11A right onto the 9A and in 10 minutes was dropped off a block from home.

So, after all of that frustration, I learned a new, easier way to get home! How shiny is that!

There is a Chinese folk tale that sort of goes along with my evening yesterday.

There once was a farmer in China who had a horse. One day the horse ran away. All his neighbors came to console him, but he was not distressed.

He told them, "Good luck, bad luck, who knows?"

A few days later the horse returned and with it was a mare. All his neighbors came to him to congratulate him on his good fortune, but again he would not mind them telling them, "Good luck, bad luck, who knows?"

A week later his son was riding the mare, fell and broke his arm. Again the neighbors came to wish him condolences and tell him how very unlucky he was.

The farmer shook his head and said, "Good luck, bad luck, who knows?"

A few days later, war was declared and all able-bodied young men were conscripted, but because on his son’s broken arm, he was not. "Good luck, bad luck, who knows?"