Thursday, August 27, 2009

What are the Odds?

Certain events have happened in recent days/weeks to trigger some remembrances; ones I think are memorable and worth documenting.

Last year Elise was in the recovery room at St. John's surgery center post-operatively from having her adenoid and tonsils removed. The post op nurse mentioned that in prepping for that day, she reviewed the charts and found Elise's chart particularly interesting. One of her best friends has a daughter also named "Elise Krueger", but she is 12 years old. In the spirit of the conversation I mention that 8 years earlier we were attending my then 12 year old step sons' football game and from the stands I hear chanting of my youngest son's name "Go, Adam! Go Adam! Come on Adam Krueger, let's go!" . Awestruck, she looked at me with the "deer in the headlight" gaze and repeated "Adam? Adam Krueger?" She continued "That would be Elise's older brother". Same Adam, too. What are the odds?

In early summer 2006,  I went to my parent's house to visit my mom, who had been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer a few months earlier. My dad greeted me at the door with severe cuts and bruising along his right arm and hand. Glancing up, I notice the bruising and cuts along his face and down his back. "What happened to you?" I asked, which was received with a sheepish grin and shrug of the shoulders. After repeating myself, my dad grabbed the Post Dispatch and I see a photo of a private plane crash with a short story. My dad goes on to explain that he had called the Post to see if they would come to Jerseyville to the airport to do a story on the flying club. They did and in the process, witnessed and captured my dad's one and only plane crash. Good story opportunity seized and taken! Once again I ask, what are the odds?

In the late 80's/early 90's, I went to visit my friend Karen in Chicago. We had been roommates throughout college and we would make annual trips to visit each other. During one of the visits, Karen explains we need to go to a post-wedding photo party for her best friend Kim and husband Dave. While at the party, I start looking through a scrapbook of engagement and wedding announcements taking notice that the family was from Round Lake Beach, where my Uncle and cousins were living. Then I notice the last name Nelson, which was my cousin Shari's married name. Finally as I read as part of the wedding party "Dan Nelson", I realize that this person IS my cousin's husband and is the groom's brother. Literally just as I make this connection, I hear from behind me "Hey, Cous!". 6 degrees of separation at its finest. Seriously, what are the odds?

When Tony and I went out to dinner on our first date, we went to Robata's of Japan in West Port. It closed down sometime in 2004-05. The Coach House on Manchester Road was where my in-laws held our rehearsal dinner. It was demolished to make a new shopping plaza. We got engaged at the Seventh Inn. It burned down a few years ago. We're just waiting for something to happen to our reception hall or church. After all, we're on a roll. What are the odds?

My great grandmother's maiden name is Longbottom. They are buried in the same cemetery as the Shortsleeves. What are the odds?

During a conversation a girlfriend and I discovered we were attending the same concert at the Kiel. The night of the concert we discover our seats are next to each other. What are the odds?

In the early 2000's my mom was a huge, very successful, e-bay seller. She had the talent and knack at selling just about everything she listed. Let's just say she sold a little of this and that and a lot of CRAP! Whenever I visited, which was frequently on a weekly basis, I would peruse her items and occasionally, help her package them for shipping. When it came time for Tony to part with his motorcycle because he didn't have time to ride, he decided to list it on E-Bay. When it sold, the buyer flew out to St. Louis to ride it home. While transferring the title, the buyer casually mentioned he had made another e-bay purchase in Ballwin and wishes he could save on the shipping and drive it back with him on the motorcycle. He continued to add that because it was a collectible plate, it probably wasn't wise. Upon hearing that, something clicked and said "Would it happen to be a Pepsi plate purchased from Hilda?" Upon confirmation, I said "That would be my mom". I ask a final time, What are the odds?

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