Is it Better to be Lucky Than Good?

"It's better to be lucky than good," says Lamar Gillett, the only P-35 pilot in World War II to shoot down a Japanese Zero. "I was lucky I was behind the Zero instead of in front of him. I was lucky when I landed back at Clark that the guys who were shooting at me didn't give enough lead. I was lucky my C.O. on Bataan sent me to Corregidor to get the chewing-out he was in for and wasn't there for the shelling that killed him." As a survivor of the Bataan Death March and three years of Japanese captivity, two years of it spent as a slave on Shikoku, Lamar Gillett is a lucky man indeed (Cleaver).

Some people have all the luck.

Joe and I always arrive at the same conclusion, but our paths getting there couldn't be more different.  I vowed never to enter into a relationship with someone whose future was unknown.  The mere idea of it was incredibly scary for a planner such as myself.    Then, enter Joe.  Six years ago, he was managing his family's restaurant when the economy took a turn for the worst and people stopped going out to eat.  I was at the restaurant nearly every day towards the end, and the fewer the people that came, the more I saw the hurt in Joe's eyes.  I didn't know what was next, but Joe certainly did.

Joe never mentioned if he was scared, or depressed, or worried, but then again, I worried enough for the both of us.  All I know is I got a call one day during the summer while I was in New York, and Joe told me he was going to be a manager of Family Dollar.  "I was just at the right place at the right time."  And so the story of Joe, the lucky one, continues.

After working for Family Dollar for three years, he was told that he had reached the top.  "There's no room for advancement, so I have to try something else."  He was optimistic, I was worried...again.  Would he be able to find something he enjoyed?

And then he did it...again.  A new restauranteur in Salt Lake asked for Joe's help setting up his new restaurant.  It seemed like the perfect match and Joe seemed happy...at first.  But then the restaurant started failing.  It had nothing to do with Joe, but he took responsibility for it and I think it reminded him of his own restaurant.  It was time for Joe to move on. 

"I want to change my career path," Joe said one evening.  Secretly dying inside I asked him what he wanted to do.  "I want to build computers and fix them.  I want to work in an office and have a desk."  I couldn't wrap my head around this.  Joe was the outgoing guy, the funny guy, the sports guy.  Joe was a customer service guy, a salesman, a crowd pleaser.  He wanted to work with computers all day, at a desk, by himself?  I thought he was joking. 

And so I watched.  He began reading manuals about computers.  He asked his friend, a computer programmer, to help him.  He literally started tearing apart computers and putting them back together again just so he could see how they worked.  And then people started asking him to do the same thing with their computers!  And they paid him!  I can count things I am good at on one hand, and then there's Joe...self-taught computer programmer plus many others.

And then, almost three months ago, Joe called me again.  "Guess what?  he screamed.  "I'm applying for a job where I get to help people with broken technology put it back together again!  Wish me luck!"  And so I did.  That night, after work, Joe and I had dinner together.  "So how did the interview go?"  I asked.  He began telling me of the typical questions asked in interviews and then a long saga about how he had to put a computer together in ten minutes.  "It was awesome!"  He said.  And then he told me that they asked him where he saw himself in the future.  "I told them that in three months I wanted to be one of the suits running this joint," Joe laughed.  I sat there...shocked.  I didn't know if I was going to throw up or smack him!  "Tell me you're joking," I begged.  "Nope," Joe continued.  "And they gave me a job!"  I couldn't believe it.  He did it again.

For the past two months, Joe has loved his job.  He gets to fix customer's internet, phone, and satellite, and, his favorite: he gets to sit in an office with a view of the Salt Lake Valley.  Fast forward to Friday, May 10.  I get another phone call.  "You will never guess what?"  Joe questioned.  "Remember how I told them in ninety days I wanted to be one of the people running this place?  Well I am!  I am!  I got promoted!"  This time my stomach didn't hurt.  I wasn't worried, or irritated, or annoyed.  I was proud.  He advanced three levels and became the boss to his boss' boss.  The best thing about it: his ninety-day anniversary is this week.

I'm not sure if Joe is lucky or good or a little bit of both.  But I do know that I took a chance and got lucky myself this time.