The Jason Ogg Theory of Luck

I’m a lucky guy, all in all. Bad things have happened in my life, but I’ve made it through them more or less intact. I have a loving, healthy family. A career that is basically ideal. And through it all, I’ve been able to experience the world in ways I never dreamed of.

I sometimes feel like I’m so lucky it’s kind of scary. Because luck can turn on you in an instant, can’t it? All this can disappear like a tears in the rain (IYKYN). That thought has haunted me in a very real way, and I think I’ve developed a weird psychological tick because of it.

The thing that made me understand my own way of interacting with life’s vicissitudes was a bit in one of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld books, about the blacksmith Jason Ogg. Because of the fundamental importance of a skilled blacksmith, and the magical nature of the Discworld, Jason Ogg can shoe anything. Donkeys, unicorns, even Death’s pale horse. But to have the power to shoe anything that comes to you for shoeing, you have to shoe anything that comes. If Death comes to you to shoe his horse, you shoe his horse. If your drunk friends bring an ant for shoeing as a joke, you shoe the ant. If you deny the request to use a power, you lose the power.

A blessing must be used, or you lose it. That is how I have come to interact with what I view as my luck. In practical terms, that means that if a chance that seems “lucky” comes along, I take it.

When someone emailed me years ago asking if I was interested in coming to Japan to teach English, I wasn’t, actually. But it seemed like a lucky chance, so I took it. And now I have lived in Japan, happily, for two decades.

When my barber asked if I wanted to go out to dinner with him and his niece, whom I had never met, I went. I married his niece a year later.

When my wife and I went for a walk one day in the neighborhood and saw a house with a for sale sign in the window, we took a tour and made an offer that day because it felt perfect to me. We’ve lived in it for almost 11 years now, and never plan to move.

This tendency of mine, to say “yes” to pretty much every major opportunity that comes down the line has also guided my career. It’s how I survived the bankruptcy of the English school I first worked at, it’s how I became a semi-regular TV guest, and it’s now guiding my literary translation work.

As if to reinforce the idea, the lucky chances keep coming, and I’ve not had to say “no” to any yet. That idea, that I have not had to say no, is perhaps the other half of my theory of luck. Because, if you want to say yes to opportunities, you need to be able to take them. You need skills, flexibility, time, attitude… You need to be open and prepared. Which is why I study things almost constantly, because you never know when you’ll need to know, oh, trends in the Japanese mystery publishing industry.

Anyway. I was just thinking about this, because sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had said “no” to some of the things that have come along. But all in all, I’m glad I didn’t.

20 Years

I stepped off the plane in Osaka on June 9, 2004. Though I didn’t know it yet, I was home.

A street scene in Japan.
The view out my window in Ube, Yamaguchi, on June 10, 2004. My first morning in Japan.

My memories of that first day are blurry. I remember buying my first bottle of “Milk Tea,” syrupy sweet and delightful, at an airport kiosk. Riding the shinkansen for the first time, transferring to the local line, and being terrified I would miss my stop in Ube. Jetlag made that first day a hard one, but I awoke the next morning in JAPAN! It was pretty wild.

The big Shidax (now gone) down the road from my apartment made things easier…

My first Karaoke in Japan. Can’t you feel the passion?

It’s hard to really believe that I’ve lived in Japan for 20 years. I only lived in Kansas, where I was born and raised, for 18. I left the United States for good at 24 (spent a bit of time in Russia and Germany before I came to Japan). I see no reason for me to leave Japan in the future, so it really does seem that this is where my bones will rest.

Looking back on why that might be, I can only say that it feels right. I settled into Japan relatively easily, after the first couple of years. The obvious influence is my marriage (17 years and counting) but even the pace of life and basic values of Japan suited me quickly. Or, perhaps I should say this part of Japan, because Osaka and Tokyo are not for me.

The truly surreal thing is, coming to Japan was never even on my radar as a young man. Apart from a brief anime phase in college, I was not a big otaku or whatever. If anything, I was hoping to live in Europe, given my MA in German Language/Literature. But I was never much a one for plans. I was always the type who took what chances came my way, and the chance to visit Japan came my way.

I’m glad it happened. It’s a nice life for me, and has brought me a wonderful family to boot.

I’m lucky, and grateful.

But man. 20 years. That’s a long time, isn’t it?