You're Telling Me There's a Chance

Lloyd Christmas: "I want to ask you a question, straight out, flat out, and I want you to give me the honest answer. What do you think the chances are of a guy like you and a girl like me ending up together?

Mary Swanson: "Well, Lloyd, that's difficult to say. We really don't..."

 Lloyd Christmas: "Hit me with it! Just give it to me straight! I came a long way just to see you Mary, just... The least you can do is level with me. What are my chances?

Mary Swanson: "Not good."

 Lloyd Christmas: [gulps, his mouth twitching] "You mean, not good like one out of a hundred?"

Mary Swanson: "I'd say more like one out of a million."

 Lloyd Christmas: [long pause while he processes what he's heard] "So you're telling me there's a chance. YEAH."

- From "Dumb and Dumber" with Jim Carrey as Lloyd and Lauren Holly as Mary

I love this scene from "Dumb and Dumber." Lloyd Christmas is the most obtusely optimistic (and aptly named) person I've "met" in film, on the page or in reality. Blind to monumental odds, he seizes on the sliver of hope that's offered. On the last line in this scene of rejection his face virtually lights up with glee.

William was deferred from his reach school, which means that his application will be considered again with tens of thousands of others for the traditional March 31 deadline. After initial disappointment, he responded similarly to Lloyd - he's got a chance. Anything short of outright rejection can be construed as a positive, another opportunity. 

I plan to borrow Lloyd's bizarre confidence for this holy week approaching Christmas. We have two vaccines, and it cannot be overstated that their development was miraculous. We are fortunate that friends and family are healthy, and only one month remains of the current administration. Last night we even saw the "super conjunction" of Jupiter and Saturn, and I felt as if the Christmas star was reborn in Denver.  For a few days, anyway, I'm going to block out the rest of reality and concentrate on these beams of light, the needles of hope in the haystack of headlines. 

Though we will "go" to church in our living room - only the second time I've ever missed church on Christmas or Christmas Eve - though our families will be celebrating at home and apart, we can get to the end zone of this pandemic and we will celebrate with wildly inappropriate dancing. We will face down the naysayers and not even blink at the oddsmakers. If you're telling me there's a chance, I'm going to grab that lifeline, climb that gym rope, and drink all the champagne.