My cousin took his wife and family to see his favorite team, the Boston Red Sox, play their hated rivals, the New York Yankees, in the real Yankee Stadium. It was fall, and a sunny day, but soon it turned colder, and it began to rain. It rained and rained and rained, but they stayed. My cousin wouldn't leave a Red Sox game he told his wife, unless I have a heart attack...a big one. More than 2 hours later, cold, wet, and miserable, the four of them left, because they finally postponed the game.
The next day, after a crappy, angry, restless sleep, she slept through her alarm and instead of exiting the subway at her usual time of 8:00 a.m., she exited at 8:45 a.m. As she stared forlornly at her office, she wished she had stayed home and became angry at her Husband making the family sit in the rain for over 2 useless hours, on September 10. Suddenly, as she looked at her office, American Airlines Flight 11 appeared, striking the WTC, and killing every one of her co-workers who had showed up on time. She suddenly realized that if her crappy Husband hadn't made them sit in the rain, she would have been on time and while she had already survived the first WTC bombing, she would not have survived this and she would now be dead with all of her co-workers. They never made up the cancelled game, but this Thanksgiving we will celebrate 13 years of feeling differently about the rain, rainouts and will remember that sometimes something bad will actually turn out to be something good.
23 says mr. math.