I need to stop making plans. When I make plans, Bad Things Happen.
I’m not talking the plans to visit the parents, or wash the dishes (yeah right!), or go to the grocery store. No, I mean Plans with a capital P. The ones that take time, effort, and money to make.
When I was in South Africa in July of 1996, it was winter, and I offhandedly said to some of the other youth on my bus “You know, it’d be kinda cool if it snowed while we were here. It IS Winter after all.” They all told me to shut up, they were all on summer vacation, but the next day, sure enough, it snowed for the first time in 30 years in the area we were in, approaching Bloemfontein. We were so delayed getting into town, we didn’t get to see the home of J.R.R. Tolkien.
In 2001, I started making plans to go to New York. I wanted to visit a couple friends of mine who lived in or could get to The Big Apple, and to see my cousin who lives there and works as an actor in on and off Broadway shows. One of my plans was also to eat at the restaurant in the Twin Towers. Guess what didn’t happen, and why?
In the Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Three, I was headed to Boston in June, but I had another trip being worked on, to work with a youth group in Vermont/New Hampshire. I figured since I’d be in the area, I’d go see the Old Man on the Mountain. April comes and goes. May Day arrives, and just thereafter, who came tumbling down? You guessed it.
Fast Forward to now. Just as I start plaking some plans to go to New Orleans for the 2006-2007 New Years… Katrina comes in and drowns the city like a child playing with ants and a puddle.
So far, to the people I’ve told this all to, I’ve been likened to lorry driver Rob McKenna (<a href="http://www.booksense.com/product/info.jsp?affiliateId=Obloggin&isbn=0345479963"So Long and Thanks for All the Fish, by Douglas Adams), and a Horseman.
Sometimes, there really are days when I wonder who is playing a game of intergalactic bar billiards with us… and if my soul is the ante.