He tapped irritably at a control panel. Trillian quietly moved his hand before he tapped anything important, Whatever Zaphod's qualities of mind might include--dash, bravado, conceit--he was mechanically inept and could easily blow the ship up with an extravagant gesture. Trillian had come to suspect that the main reason he had had such a wild and successful life was that he never really understood the significance of anything he did.
"Zaphod," she said patiently, "they were floating unprotected in open space . . . you wouldn't want them to have died, would you?"
"Well, you know . . . no. Not as such, but . . ."
"Not as such? Not die as such? But?" Trillian cocked her head on one side.
"Well, maybe someone else might have picked them up later."
"A second later and they would have been dead."
"Yeah, so if you'd taken the trouble to think about the problem a bit longer it would have gone away."
"You'd have been happy to let them die?"
"Well, you know, not happy, as such, but . . ."
"Anyway," said Trillian, turning back to the controls, "I didn't pick them up."
"What do you mean? Who picked them up then?"
"The ship did."
"Huh?"
"The ship did. All by itself."
"Huh?"
"While we were in Improbability Drive."
"But that's incredible."
"No, Zaphod. Just very very improbable."
"Er, yeah."
You know, I've been dealing with the improbable for quite a while. Some of the faithful disciples of this blog may argue with my use of the word "improbable." They would say that everything that I write about is fairly common--experiences that many people have every day. That may be true. People are diagnosed with lymphoma of the brain every day. People are displaced from their jobs every day. People work three and four jobs every day to pay their bills. People's brother and sisters and parents die every day. I know all this. However, to me, my life seems improbable, and I have the same kind of reaction to this improbability that Zaphod has. I bristle and complain.
I'm sitting in McDonald's this morning, after a fairly emotional week of goodbyes and endings, feeling a little empty. Like I don't have any more to give at the moment. In the coming week, I start a new/old job with new hours and duties. There will be a learning curve for sure. It's not a job that I'm particularly excited about. I'm sure my attitude will change eventually. I'm still adjusting to the upcoming change, and you all know how well I deal with change.
So, indulge me today. I'm going to try to think about the good improbabilities of my life. Things that fill me up again.
IMPROBABILITY #1: I am a poet. This one has brought into my life many joys. Friends. Opportunities. Ways to do good in the world. At this moment, my tribe consists of poets who think like me, share my values.
IMPROBABILITY #2: I am the Poet Laureate of the Upper Peninsula, for the second time in a row. This one still blows me away. There are so many great writers who've been nominated for this position. Mentors and friends and heroes. The fact that this plumber's son was chosen still amazes me.
IMPROBABILITY #3: My daughter. She's 18 years old, about to graduate from high school. Smart and beautiful and compassionate and passionate. She danced into my life one cold December morning, and she fills me with improbable love.
IMPROBABILITY #4: My son. My orange child. He's so much like me that it's frightening. We butt heads. A lot. But he makes me laugh, gives me hope. (Of course, that hope is sometimes that he doesn't end up in prison, but it's still hope.) Improbable love, yet again.
IMPROBABILITY #5: My wife. Next year will be our 25th wedding anniversary. We have our share of struggles over the years. Things that would have broken most marriages irreparably. Yet, here we are. Still struggling, but more in love than ever. Improbable love.
IMPROBABILITY #6: I lived to see the first African American President of the United States. This one gives me hope, even in the dark time we're in right now in my country. We got it right once. We'll get it right again.
IMPROBABILITY #7: My friends. All of them. I have a large tribe of people who genuinely care about my welfare. When I'm feeling down, they reach out, do things that life me up. When I have something to celebrate, they are the ones putting the candles on the cake.
IMPROBABILITY #8: My brothers and sisters. Dysfunction is always a part of familial relationships. Yet, I know that these people have my back, will do anything to help me out when the chips are down. They'll just bitch about it when I've crawled out of the hole.
IMPROBABILITY #9: My wife's family. These individuals welcomed me into their clubhouse over 25 years ago. Recognized a fellow freak, I guess. They continue to fill my life with acceptance, humor, and love. Plus, they serve alcohol at Christmas dinner.
IMPROBABILITY #10: The future. I don't always think about the future as happy and fulfilling. I'm a pretty pessimistic person a lot of the time. However, in the past few weeks, as I've been struggling with my job and life situation, so many people have told me, "There's something better coming for you. There is." So, here's to something better. Amen.
There you go. I embraced goodness and hope this morning. Don't worry. Tomorrow, I'll be back to my old, cynical self tomorrow.
Today, however, Saint Marty is all about good improbabilities.
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