On karma and conspiracies

If you're more a fan of karma than conspiracy theories, you might like this. I was talking with my dad, trying to figure out my recent spate of bad air travel karma, when I realized I might be looking at things all wrong. Maybe I had never done anything bad to anyone at an airport. Maybe I was being repaid for the bad airport karma in good alternate karma ways. Life is just a matter of looking at the right side of things. Or having a trust fund. But you can still go to jail with one of those.... if only for 24 days.

Picture this. My dad and I walk through Gate 5 at Wimbledon on Sunday, completely psyched knowing we're treading on hallowed grounds of tennis tradition and, more importantly, fully aware that we're about to witness potentially the greatest showdown of tennis history. My bag is searched in true Wimbledon tradition, our tickets are torn, and we are in. We take in a couple of junior matches, a couple of Pimm's, and a couple of sandwiches, and before we know it it's time to head for center court. Sorry. Centre court.

Now, I'm generally not one to lose track of such important things as Wimbledon tickets, house keys, my pants, or plane tickets. But I swear my ticket stub - the only way to get into center court - vanished from my pocket. Trying not to panic, dad and I went through all the possible hidden ticket locations, and finally asked a guard what to do. He sent us to lost and found. I figured the likelihood of it being returned was about 0.000000376%.

So we headed for lost and found, where a very kind lady looked through everything with no luck and then suggested we go to the ticket booth where we MIGHT be able to work something out. I've never felt so stupid in my whole life. Except for the first term of the MBA... I felt so badly for my poor dad, who offered to share the seat and swap places every few games, and who had been so kind to invite me as his "date" when he got the tickets from a friend. I was crushed.

But as we walked out of lost and found, who should appear but the guard we had spoken to just moments earlier. "Is this what you're looking for?" And indeed it was. A woman turned it in, miraculously to exactly the same guard, just moments earlier. And so as my dad and I strolled into center court, it dawned on me. The bad airport karma is not payback for some horrible airport wrong I did in the past. Rather, all the lucky things that happen elsewhere are to make up for the bad airport experiences. Or that's the way I choose to look at it, anyway. And I'll take it gladly... This kind of luck has not only returned a missing Wimbledon ticket, but only weeks early magically got my wallet back to me when I left it on a Norwegian train just an hour before my flight to Barcelona was due to take off. But that's another story altogether...

By the way, the match was incredible. Total nail-biter and definitely the best match I've ever seen in my life... maybe the best match I'll ever see!