Archives for posts with tag: luck

This is post number 783. I was going to write about the number 777 in blog post number 777, but I forgot. This post is 6 posts too late, but I’d still like to make a point and hold your attention for another minute.

The significance of seven seven seven relates to luck, the bible and my past. Seven is considered a lucky number in some societies, so 3 sevens must be very lucky. A missed opportunity for this blog, therefore.

Also, seven is a biblically important number, at least in Christianity, with seven cows and all that kind of stuff.

Finally, I always associate the number seven and 3 sevens with fruit machines. You can still see them on fruit machines today, and 3 sevens usually means the jackpot. Back in my youth, before the advent of devices and gaming, the fruit machine was the only visually interesting machine to hold the attention of kids. We weren’t yet in the era of Space Invaders and Pacman. The cherries (small payout), oranges (slight larger but still small payout), bells (medium payout) and red sevens (large payout) were what ruled our spare time as we watched other people spend their money for their – and our – entertainment. A significant symbol of my youth.

Not significant enough for me to remember it on the right day, however.

 

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A few years go, as a recent recruit to a sales effectiveness company, I briefed the powers that be on how I wanted to run my session. I wanted to start with a story on how it was lucky I made it to the US that day at all. I had a new smartphone and set my alarm for 6am on the Saturday, unaware that my alarm was set for weekdays and not weekends. I awoke at 6am anyway, and realised my error. In any event, the thrust of my story, I said, was that you can do all the planning you want, but sometimes you need a bit of luck.

The powers that be looked at me askance. This was not what they wanted to hear. You see, they said, the whole point of sales methodology and planning is that you remove luck from the equation. You leave nothing to chance and you control the eventualities of the sale with your ideally perfect knowledge and assessment of the situation.

That said, loads of us believe in luck, hope for luck, are counting on luck. Luck and hope may not be great strategies, but even with the best planning in the world you get the feeling that luck still has a role. That bluebird deal comes in when you thought the customer gone dark. A change of key personnel plays right into your hands, or takes the deal away from you. Sometimes you feel that stuff happens that you just can’t legislate for.

The concept of luck is an interesting one. Some folks believe in it, some don’t. There was a great Greek tragedy writer called Euripides writing about 2,500 years ago. I reckon he was better than his much vaunted peers Aeschylus – who wrote The Persians – and Sophocles – he of Oedipus the King – and only a handful of his plays like The Medea survive from the 90 or so he wrote. He believed that there was no such thing as good luck. There was either no luck, or bad luck.

I take a different view of luck from my erstwhile planning perfectionist employers. Great planning means you can allow for luck or karma, or you know what to do when the luck rolls in. As Gary Player once said: ‘The more I play, the luckier I get.’

Inanimate objects are frequently the bane of my life. They just don’t behave themselves. Does anyone else feel this way?

I almost never lose my temper with people. It’s so rarely productive to blow up in a situation with other people.

Inanimate objects, though, are a different kettle of fish, to coin an animate phrase. I can be in a great frame of mind, and then catch a loop of something on a door handle, or have to untangle a set of wires, and I’m furious within a heartbeat.

Nowhere is this short fuse – going from happy to apoplectic in the space of a few seconds – more evident than when dealing with coat hangers, especially when they hunt in packs. They are the devil’s work and if I was ever invited on Room 101¬†they would be gone; gone I tell you.

It is, of course, completely irrational that I should get so worked up by something that can’t help itself or answer back. It’s not the mark of an intelligent man. I like to think it’s the mark of a slightly paranoid individual who thinks there might be something to conspiracy theories and plain bad luck after all.