(95) 'My Lucky Fluke Days'

[Ken]

A pattern is emerging in my writing of memories that I didn't plan and it manifests itself in the types of stories I now tell.  My original intention was just to record my favourite memories of the Tuffs family, whilst answering some of the questions in Kathryn's book of empty pages, and that was it.  However, it has morphed into memories of the people I have worked with and to stories about my friends.  I even found myself airing political viewpoints that I should, perhaps, keep to myself.  What has surprised and delighted me is that friends, who don't know my family, say they have enjoyed reading of their antics. While relatives, who have yet to visit us, have read with interest of my life in Wales and found it funny and uplifting.  One relative, who only recently discovered, 'Kens Cosy,', wrote and requested that I keep the stories coming.  This one tells of the luck that has helped me mould the way others seem to perceive me.

Fluke is the word that best describes some of the acts of good fortune that have confronted me.  A small example took place in a pub where I once sat with a mixture of friends and work mates.  One of my staff challenged me to a game of darts, which I declined. When he asked why I never played, I replied, "Because it's too easy!'  I didn't tell him it was because I was useless at darts and it irritated me that some dumbo could subtract the scores far quicker than I could. When he continued to press me for a reason I asked him for a dart and, from a sitting position some distance away, I commanded everyone to stand clear of the dart board.  I then made a great show of taking aim and threw the dart.  It was my expectation that I would miss the board and I was ready to say, for a cheap laugh, "That's the reason I don't play darts." Instead, I said, in a clear triumphant voice that everyone could hear, "I don't play darts because it's too easy," I then nonchalantly resumed talking.  The dart I should add was firmly embedded in the Bulls eye!

Lucky fluke's like that were always happening to me and it wasn't long before that story was rushing around SupaSports. However, on another occasion, in the same pub, I astounded everyone, including myself, with a magic trick. Many of my younger relatives and friends will recall I have a small talent for illusions and so, when I saw someone badly performing a card trick, I asked for the pack.  Showing off with some fancy shuffling, I told a chap to choose a card and to show it to everyone, excluding me.  After he did so, I shuffled the pack energetically, talking all the time, until I had what I thought was his card on the top of the pack.  I then asked the chap what his card was and it was my intention to thump the pack dramatically and show everyone that the top card was the card he'd chosen.   Except the card he named was the nine of hearts which wasn't the card I had ready to boldly flourish. However, I'd discovered many times that while there's life there's hope and so I went into what I call my bullshit overdrive!  

I had noticed the landlady was slicing some lemons and I asked to borrow the knife.  I then handed the pack of cards to someone and told them to shuffle them.  The third thing I did was take a paper serviette from the bar and tell the card holder to wrap it around the pack of cards.  I was thinking on my feet as I handed the knife to another friend and told him to slice it through the serviette and into the side of the pack of cards. My logic was simple, for I'd worked out that there was a twenty six to one chance of him finding the nine of hearts on either side of the knife and there was a high chance of him of getting close to one of the other nines.  My arithmetical skills may not have been spot on but, I'd assessed, I was still in with a chance, for wasn't I always lucky?  The truth was it was worth a shot to salvage my reputation as a man of magic!

This is what happened.  I pointed out that I had played no part in the shuffling of the cards, nor of the wrapping of the pack in the serviette.  I reminded them that it wasn't me, who had decided where to stick the knife, but one of them.  I then started to remove the now torn serviette from the pack, asking once again what was the card they'd all seen?  A half dozen voices said, "The nine of hearts," as I slowly removed the rest of the serviette.  Of course, I had envisaged the knife dividing the pack into two halves, and not for one second had I expected to actually pierce a card.  But the knife had and, to my utter amazement, I found it had pierced the nine of bloody hearts.  I wrote earlier that while there's life there's hope and I'd pulled of an almighty  bluff.  Keeping cool, I majestically waved the knife and card for all to see and in a loud voice I said, "THAT MY FRIENDS IS MAGIC!"  Utter pandemonium broke out as everyone rushed to see the card and examine the pack as they tried to work out how I'd done it.  I just went back to what I had been previously doing.  Cool Kenneth, had struck again!  Apart from my Jenny, I've never admitted to anyone that the above trick was nothing but a fluke.  However, the brighter ones there may have wondered why I declined all future invitations to do the trick again. Looking back, at so many similar events, I'm still amazed that my luck lasted for so many years, no doubt my bullshit overdrive ability to grab the moment helped.  But, by God, those lucky fluke days were enormous fun while they lasted!

[Ken]

"Defeats are but stepping stones to victory," was my mantra for many years.  This memory stresses that while there's life, there's hope, so never give up.  The table's can always be turned to ones advantage!