Is that really the worst thing?

On Friday, I took part in the Baccalaureate Ceremony at the University where I work, and heard an address given by Jerry Fowler, president of the Save Darfur Coalition. He began his speech with a recollection of a recent airplane trip which had been lengthened fourfold by bad weather and delays. A woman near him was making numerous calls on her cell phone, cursing the airline, the weather, and the part of the world in which she was stuck. When, at long last, the flight attendant announced that they were finally taking off, she wished them a better day than they had had so far, at which the woman announced to all within earshot, "Well, it couldn't get any worse!". Mr. Fowler said that he then thought, "Really? Can it really not get any worse than this?" Knowing that the subject of his speech would be the humanitarian crisis in Darfur, the audience laughed ruefully.

Friday was an extraordinarily hot day, and I left Baccalaureate to go home and prepare my house for guests. On the way home, I thought delightedly that I had just purchased a case of assorted sodas and was looking forward to drinking one as I got dinner ready. When I got home and opened the wrapping, I saw that the case had been mislabeled and contained only black cherry sodas. My first thoughts were of pique and annoyance, and I wondered when, during a busy weekend, I'd have time to return to the store and exchange the purchase. All at once, I heard Jerry Fowler's voice in my head saying, "Really? Is a case of black cherry soda really the worst thing that could happen?" I decided that it was not.

Jerry Fowler's words have been dwelling in my head ever since Friday, popping up at every minor inconvenience to show me just how minor my inconveniences are. I hope they take up permanent residence.