TAKE A CHANCE ON ME

I suppose with an effortless ‘click’ people can share a Spotify playlist these days – but there was a time not so long ago when the effort that went into the creation of a mixed tape or burning of a custom CD made them rather thoughtful gifts.

Sue’s brother Brad took the time to curate for her just such a mixed CD. We still have it somewhere… It’s got a bit of everything – from Kim Mitchell’s cover of Sudbury Saturday Night to Shaggy’s catchy rendition of Angel, and that earworm Abba song with meaningless lyrics, Take A Chance On Me.

Sue would crank Brad’s creation on the sound system of her Honda minivan (she plays her music in the car way too loud). Although there isn’t much on there to my taste, the kids like some of the tunes – and we can all agree on one particular track: Wear Sunscreen.

It’s a hypothetical commencement speech written by Mary Schmich of The Chicago Tribune full of sage advice, wisecracks, and wisdom – all set to music by Baz Lurhmann.

There are several gems in the song that have stuck to the point of becoming family touchstones – regularly cited to challenge, comfort or cajole.

One of Mary Schmich’s pearls from the recording: “Do one thing every day that scares you…” Which is used nearly every summer to convince a family member to jump off the railway bridge at Whitefish Lake in Algonquin Park.

And recent events have me thinking about the truth from the song in these lines:

“The real troubles in your life
Are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind
The kind that blindsides you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday…”

and

“Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much
Or berate yourself either
Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's…”

You see, it’s late. Like, after 9 o’clock. Everyone knows that Sue and I have been in our PJ’s long before this hour.

And my phone rings.

“Who the hell calls at this hour?” I grumble.

Sue looks up from her Kindle and gives me a “sucks to be you” expression.

In a huff, I throw off the blankets, get out of bed, and stomp to the kitchen where my phone is plugged in.

It’s dear friend Vicky. And as is the case with most off-hour calls, it isn’t good.

Paul has fallen.

And it’s serious.

We often think we’re winning our race – fair and square – all thanks to our skill and effort. And while I’m a big believer in sweat-off-your-brow and in the difference that hard work can make, I’m an even bigger believer that – by orders of magnitude – chance matters more.

Imagine yourself at the starting line of your life’s marathon obstacle course. You’re one of 100 at the line – you look to your left, you look to your right – and there’s 99 other hungry, bloodthirsty competitors.

The Starter has his pistol in hand – but before he fires, some adjustments need to be made.

Let’s start with a biggie.

Were you born in Canada, the U.S., the E.U. or an Oceanic country? Out of a world population of just under 8 billion, a very fortunate 890M or about 11% were born in these wealthiest of countries. The Starter directs 89 of your adversaries to move back 800 metres. Left standing at the start line: You and 10 others.

Hang on, the Starter’s not yet ready… were you born to parents who lived above the poverty line? 10% of Canadians were not. The Starter directs another runner back 500 metres.

Are you white? 30% of Canadians are people of colour – 3 more contestants are shifted back 300 metres. Now it’s just you and 6 others.

One more thing, have you lived your life free of major disease or serious chronic condition? Have you suffered an accident severe enough to limit normal activities? No? Good for you! And 4 more of your competitors have just been moved back 200 metres.

Finally, the Starter is ready to pull the trigger. You look to your left and right. It’s you and 2 other world-beaters. May the best one win…

Paul is working hard to recover from a spinal cord injury. He is such a determined man that my money is on him. We visit Vicky and Paul at the rehabilitation centre in the city. Paul is craving a deli sandwich – so we pick one up on the way (Editor’s note: Montreal Deli > Toronto Deli… not even close).

Vicky is constantly by his side. She’s a fixer. Like the very best fictional fixers, Vicky’s resourceful and resilient (Think Mike Ehrmantraut from Breaking Bad or Ray Donovan).

But this is a situation Vicky can’t simply fix.

That’s Vicky and Paul in the middle… Vicky’s a fixer…

A couple things you should know about Paul: for one, he truly sees the good in people. After an initial encounter, I can be guilty of focusing on what I perceive as a person’s flaws. Paul instantly corrects me and describes what he sees as the individual’s more desirable qualities.

And Paul thinks that when you’re with someone, they deserve your full attention. We often start our day with a walk together with the dogs around the Braestone Farm. Paul never brings his phone. And if, in my pretention/addiction, I foolishly bring mine, he raises an eyebrow in such an exaggerated but silent manner that I get the message – loud and clear.

Ruby… on a walk around Braestone Farm… on a day I brought my phone.

On this day, we share corned beef sandwiches, diet Pepsi, fries, Cole slaw and kosher pickles. We talk about our respective journeys – what makes them meaningful – and the challenge that both Paul and Vicky face. Paul confides that his condition provides him with ample time for contemplation.

In an attempt to inspire optimism, I draw a chart showing progress over time and speculate on the progress yet to come. I express hope to once again walk around Braestone Farm with my friend.

But chance is an encounter with what we can’t control. And as demonstrated by my little calculations above, life is dominated by chance. I’m glad there’s interference with chance – modern medicine being the best example – I’d be long gone without it and Paul’s challenge would be even more daunting – but we’re kidding ourselves if we think we will ever master chance.

And so it should be.

Is the ultimate goal of life overcoming chance to achieve comfortable self-preservation? Or does Paul – faced with his challenges – remind us of a higher good by which we are measured and defined – in the way we seek the good in others and pay attention to them?

On our way home, Sue pulls out Brad’s CD and pops it into the CD player.

She cranks it up – REALLY LOUD – and it’s the kind of song that I can appreciate with meaningful lyrics…

“If you need me, let me know, gonna be around
If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down
Take a chance on me… Take a chance on me…”