Luck be a lady?

I was sitting in traffic this afternoon on my way home from work - it was at a stand still heading west (the direction I was going) while the eastbound lane was free and clear. As I sat there waiting to move, I was watching two squirrels on the side of the road. They were running and each one had something acorn-like in their mouths, and then suddenly the bigger of the two squirrels decided that he was going to make a break for it and run to the other side of the road. He ran right in front of my car, and as he did a car came speeding down the eastbound lane and I was sure the little guy was toast. In fact, as I saw him leap up the curb, I couldn't believe he made it. I thought “what a lucky frickin squirrel, he should have bought the farm”. Then I began thinking about the concept of luck, and how it pertains to everyone (even crazed squirrels). I mean, some people (like me) believe that luck is a random thing - like a wild bolt of lightning that you can’t predict. Other people believe that you make your own luck; that your outlook and personal choices reflect what gets presented to you. Actually, upon further pondering, I believe it’s probably a combination of the two. Which brought me to another thought. In 2005, my husband Charlie and I went on a trip to Las Vegas - luck capital of the world - and had an interesting run in with luck.

We were going to be in Las Vegas for five days. We already had two under our belts, and as per usual, Charlie had mad luck for those two days. He was up at least a grand. Me - not so much. So we decided to put the bets on hold for a night. It was a Saturday and we decided to go to the Ellis Island for a little cold beer and karaoke. If you haven’t heard of the Ellis Island, don’t worry. It’s a locals haunt and it’s a tiny hole in the wall attached to a Super 8 Motel off the strip on Koval Lane. It’s wonderfully dark and oh so old Vegas, but they have a phenomenal karaoke show and the people who sing karaoke in Las Vegas are some of the most talented singers I have ever heard, bar none.

Anyhoo, we were filling out our request slips and Charlie kept looking at this very tall, distinguished looking man in one of the booths. He kept saying that he looked familiar. The dude didn’t look familiar to me at all. So after about ten minutes, Charlie tells me that the guy looks like Granville Waiters. Now, I knew who Granville Waiters was because he played for the Chicago Bulls when I was in high school. I couldn't have picked him out of a lineup, but I remembered his name because my dad had taken me to a couple of Bulls games when I was in high school. The Bulls really stunk back then (pre Michael Jordan) but they were winning the game Dad and I went to. And back then, Waiters basically sat on the bench each and every game. But when the Bulls would actually pull ahead by a significant amount, the crowd would start to chant “Graaaaaaaaaanville, Graaaaaaaanville….” and eventually they would put him in the game.

So the DJ at Ellis Island decided to do what he called “Kamikaze Karaoke”, where he would call up five or so singers, pick a song of his choosing and make them all sing together. Charlie got called up on stage, and so did Shorty (the Granville look-alike). Everyone was laughing and commenting on their bad rendition of We are Family and I leaned over to Shorty’s friends and told them that my husband thought he looked like Granville Waiters. With the widest eyes I have ever seen, they told me that, yes, that’s Granny (as they called him). His friends seemed taken aback that anyone would even recognize him. However they were very sweet when they asked if Charlie would like an autograph (to which I replied “ARE YOU KIDDING? OF COURSE!) After the guys were done singing, Charlie got his autograph and had a really nice conversation with Granville. (Who couldn't have been more gracious, by the way). Later in the evening after we were all sung out, we said goodnight to Granville Waiters and his friends and went back to our hotel.

The next day we laughed about our night and thought it was one of the oddest Las Vegas moments we had experienced (except for the night Charlie got propositioned by a hooker at the Hard Rock). But we soon discovered that another thing had happened that night. Charlie’s luck ran out. From that moment on, he couldn't catch a cold let alone a break. As his winnings dwindled for the remaining days, he came to the only conclusion there was. Granville Waiters stole his luck.

My luck remained the same - in the crapper - for the entire trip until the last night. Every trip to Las Vegas we ever had ended the same way with our famous “last night luck”. Together, we hit a $1.00 Wheel of Fortune machine for $1,000.00. A nice little amount to go home with.

So do I believe that luck is as random as lightning or do we make our own luck? I’m still not sure about that one. But I am sure that if you have some luck, stay away from Granville Waiters. He’ll steal it.