July 13, 2025
The Outrageous Luck of Simply Existing

Let’s get one thing straight from the get go, you, dear reader, are a walking miracle. Not because you’ve climbed Everest, invented gluten-free breadsticks, or remembered all your passwords without resetting them. You're a miracle because statistically, you shouldn't even be here.

Let's rewind the cosmic lottery machine.

First off, your ancestors had to survive saber-toothed tigers, plagues, famine, wars, and the 1970s. Every single one of your forebears had to not only live through this chaos but also find someone to canoodle with at precisely the right moment so that, centuries later, you could be born with your unique combination of allergies and streaming service subscriptions.

Think about it. If Grog the Caveman tripped on a mammoth tusk instead of impressing Ooga with his interpretive cave painting dance, the whole genetic line would have fizzled out. You would not exist. Poof. Gone. Nada.

Then there's the Black Death. That delightful 14th century event wiped out an estimated 50 million people. But not your great-great-great-somebody. No, they had an immune system made of medieval steel. Either that or they lived in a swamp so remote even bacteria couldn’t be bothered.

And let’s not forget the romantic finesse required. Out of the millions of people your ancestors could have coupled up with, they picked just the right ones to carry the lineage forward. This involved, I imagine, a lot of awkward medieval flirting:

"Milady, thy ankle is most fetching."
"Oh sir, you flatter me so. Might I interest you in a dowry and smallpox resistance?"

And then came the Industrial Revolution. Your people survived factories with more moving parts than a Rube Goldberg machine and streets so unsanitary rats filed workman's comp claims. Still, they endured. Maybe even thrived. At the very least, they didn’t explode while working with steam engines. That’s a win.

Even more recently, someone in your family tree dodged world wars, '70s disco, and somehow managed not to microwave a fork in the '80s. This entire sequence of unlikely survivals and successful mating brings us to you: sitting on your couch, stress eating cereal at 10 p.m., watching a documentary about other people’s more impressive lives.

So the next time you feel unlucky because you got the slow barista or stubbed your toe on a Roomba, remember, you are the result of a billion coin flips landing heads. The direct descendant of generations of scrappy, persistent, occasionally lucky humans who somehow managed to not mess it all up.

Thanks, ancestors. We all owe you one. 

Copyright © Tom Kane July 2025