This is not a spoiler alert, I don't think. Well, maybe a little. I went and saw Deadpool 2 last night. Before I get into my main subject of discussion, I just want to say I think this was the first movie since the first Deadpool that came out where I left the theater fully satisfied. I'm probably not the best person to go see a movie with, as I'm, apparently, incredibly hard to please. So often, the sequels are a major disappointment, or they try to become even more clever, (I'm talking to you, Ocean's Twelve) or they just get more explosive-y (Now I'm talking to you, The Notebook Part 2). Deadpool 2 was perfectly satisfying because, apparently, Wade Wilson and I went to the exact same school of sarcastic commentary. So, three enthusiastic thumbs up! You're probably thinking, oh please, I read your 21 Questions and I know you like Hallmark Movies, so what the hell do you know about good movies? And, I will have to answer that liking Hallmark Movies has everything to do with my terrible personality flaws, and nothing to do with my cinematic judgement. Thank you very much. To prove it, all I have to do is to recite line by line the greatest movie ever made, The Shawshank Redemption. Now go take your preconceived bias and sit in the corner for a while to think about what you've done.
Sorry readers, that was ugly, and I didn't want you to read that imaginary conversation I just had with a non-existent, truculent, and skeptical fan. I'll try and contain my fictitious rage. Maybe, corner punishment time should be over. Oh, all right, come on out of the corner and join the conversation. Holy crap, I'm going to be a terrible parent. That was literally about 3 seconds of punishment and then I completely folded like a souffle in the cupboard. On a side note to this side note, how do you real parents out there do it? The very idea of being completely responsible for another human being that is less capable than me (I'm not sure such a person exists) terrifies me as much as the idea of Mike Pence judging a drag queen show. Every time I day dream about being a parent, it always ends up that I'm at yet another parent/teacher conference trying to justify why my kid insists on having a correct vintage Bordeaux with his cracker/cheese combo pack he traded his fountain pen for. Or, I see him at therapy complaining about the trauma his dad (me) created by forcing him to invite a different unpopular kid to come over to dinner every single night throughout all of high school. So, I'm very happy my failings are only in the imaginary world and won't be extending into the real one.
Yes! I've distracted you with 2 paragraphs of the 5 I'm supposed to write! Writing is easy when you don't actually talk about what you are supposed to discuss! Anyway, back to Deadpool 2. There is character in the movie called Domino. Domino has an interesting superpower. She's just lucky. While I don't think I want to try and hijack an armored truck and try to escape a maniacal “complete the mission at all costs type” cyborg soldier from the future, I did start wondering if the writers, yet again, were modeling a character after me because I'm probably the luckiest person you'll ever meet. I know you are confused because that would normally be construed as me being really sarcastic, but I'm not. Seriously. I'm the luckiest person around. Shit! Even I think I'm being sarcastic! I'm not, honest!
The theory is if a billion monkeys typed on a billion typewriters for a billion years, eventually The Great Gatsby gets written. What would never get written is our current tax code, because even monkeys know when they are typing complete trash and would just stubbornly go on a hunger strike. Now I'm not saying my life is on the same level of excellence as The Great Gatsby, but I do think the statistical probability of both my very existence and of accomplishing the things I have been able to in my life is incredibly low. I am cursed with great luck. It sounds remarkably spoiled to complain about good fortune by declaring myself cursed, I'm very aware. See, I'm lucky enough to be blessed with remarkable self-examination! Dammit, it's happening again! Let me explain why I consider it a curse.
The accomplishments and trappings of good fortune in my life have come at little cost. I have not earned a damn thing in my life. I am a recovering graduate professor of international finance and economics and I shouldn't have been one. In fact, I am in my first week of studies to finally get my undergrad degree. The universities that hired me were very well aware that I didn't have a degree, based on the new hire paperwork meeting where I repeatedly asked them, "You do know that I have no degree, correct?" Apparently being a 26-year-old Senior Vice President of Institutional Services for the nation's largest Equity Research Firm means something in Europe that doesn't mean jack shit in the US. And if I were to be really honest, I kind of fell into that position as well, based on a chance flight to Kansas City with the Senior Investment Strategist of the firm.
This whole cursed luck thing came into obvious light when I received a letter from Eastern Social Welfare Society telling me that my biological father was looking for me. This is an event that is the stuff of dreams for hundreds of thousands of international adoptees -- a chance to meet their "real" parents. I was not one of those individuals. I grew up Lutheran. Which means you take your problems, stuff them in a box, and bury them deep down in a cave where you can never confront them ever again. Then you drink scotch to try and forget where the cave is. The pull to discover my roots never existed for me. I had less interest in going to Korea than any of you. I would have turned down a free ticket to go to Korea. In fact, one of my concerns in taking the job I have now was the possibility they might make me go on a business trip to Korea, and that wasn't something I wanted to do. In my subsequent research about reunions between adoptees and their birth families, I have learned that it is very rare for the birth father to initiate the search. I found out mine's been trying for 10 years to locate me and my brother. My wife likes to watch Long Lost Family and every other show that centers around reunions. I think adoption is a tender area for her because her father reunited with his birth family, and her husband and both of our dogs were all adopted. So, she is surrounded by it. I try and avoid these shows because it makes the guilt even worse. I didn't need the assistance of a tv show for my reunion. I read so many posts on the KAD page every single day where someone is excited because they got a millimeter closer to finding their roots. I never respond with encouragement like everyone else does because it just is a slap in the face to me that I got, yet again, something I didn't earn.
There are so many similar situations in my life that I'm now at a point where I am actively trying to avoid good luck. I don't buy lottery tickets. I smoke like a chimney. I step on cracks, walk under ladders, and I try to find as many black cats as I can. I dothis because no one person should have this much good luck. It isn't fair. My heart breaks for all of those people who want so desperately to hold their biological parents. I don't understand why the need is there because I never felt it, but I do know how much it means to them. At least 10 posts a day are about sending in the 23andMe kits to see if there are any biological relatives out there. Because of them, I try to answer the drunk dials from Han Mu (my birth father) when it's 12 - 4am in Korea. Because I know how much it would mean to them if their blood contacted them, juiced up on soju, or not.
The circumstances of my adoption are also very fortuitous. Realistically speaking, I should not be here. I have a life where I was able to take 2 weeks off and fly halfway across the world within 24 hours of getting a disturbing notification. I did this with the full support of my remarkable wife. We are extremely well-matched for one another, but we both agree no matchmaker would have ever paired us up. I am in a job where I am the least experienced, yet I survived five rounds of layoffs in the past three years while others with far more seniority than me and far more knowledge lost their jobs. It simply blows me away the astounding amount of good fortune I have received. So, now the mission is to spread the wealth. I'm lonely in good fortune land. I look around and I have the gut-wrenching feeling of knowing I don't belong here. Every time I've tried to escape and go back to the real world, fate pushes me back into the realm of good fortune. So, if I can't come to you, then I want to help all of you come to me. It's the least I can do. And during most of my life, that is exactly what I have done -- as little as possible. Well, it ends today. Come take my hand, let me show you my world because it's awesome. And, I know you deserve to be there far more than I do. I hope to get you there before Deadpool 3 comes out. X Force Forever!
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