Do you feel lucky?

Well, do ya, punk? (I promise this won’t be too dirty or hairy)

I had a stroke 10 years ago, skin cancer a few years later and a broken hip a few years after that. So does that mean I had a decade of bad luck — or good?

Yes.

Before we continue the Self-Absorption Parade, let’s spend a moment on Kelvin Kiptum, who set a world record in the marathon last year. He was lucky to be so physically gifted, of course, but was also brilliant and hard working enough to take full advantage of those gifts, looking for all the world like he would be the first person to break the two-hour mark.

On Super Bowl Sunday, he drove into a ditch, hit a tree and died instantly. He was 24.

They’re still investigating, but it certainly looks like he screwed up. We’ve all screwed up behind the wheel at some point: going too fast or too close, looking at our phones, running a red light, falling asleep, being drunk.

We all got lucky. We were able to walk away. The greatest marathoner in the world couldn’t.

It’s easy to obsess over our bad luck. Ask any gambler.

But we’re also incredibly lucky to be alive. Ask any sperm.

Luck is everywhere. Take the Super Bowl. Please. I’m sure 49ers fans will grumble for decades about a fluke fumble on a punt that helped swing the game in the Chiefs’ favor.

You know what they won’t obsess over? A just-as-fluky play two weeks earlier that helped the 49ers get to the Super Bowl in the first place.

We take good luck for granted. We take bad luck to our grave.

We now return to our Self-Absorption Parade. My stroke came from a lifelong heart condition that about 2 billion people have — literally a stroke of bad luck. Except …

Mine came as I woke up one morning, sending my right side out of whack. But it didn’t happen while I was driving or walking alone or on a treadmill or in the shower or two hours from a hospital, so the potential for tragedy was far smaller. I got to a hospital quickly, got out the next day and never needed physical therapy.

If I were religious, I’d say I was blessed. Maybe someone else’s god was working pro bono, I don’t know. Anyway, I consider myself lucky.

I broke my hip tripping over a curb, but I didn’t hit my head or have any surgical complications, so my doctor didn’t have to write “stupidity” as my cause of death. (Hang in there, Doc. You still might have that chance.) Some people aren’t so lucky. A fall is one of the easiest ways to ruin your life, especially as you get older.

As for the skin cancer, I made my own luck, good and bad. I played a ton of tennis with maybe an ounce of sunscreen on me, so I was inviting bad luck to my doorstep. But I also have regular checkups, so a doctor wiped it out in a hurry. Every cancer patient should be so lucky. Most aren’t.

The best poker players know they’ll have bad luck sometimes, but they also know the odds are in their favor if they play well because the luck tends to balance itself out. Bad luck may spoil their hand or evening or tournament, but it won’t ruin their life.

Be like the people who are generally the happiest, appreciating what they have instead of bemoaning what they lack. When they get hit with bad luck, they still play the hand as well as they can. But if all you do is see yourself as some tragic figure with the weight of the world on your shoulders … well, good luck.

Murphy Slaw

Something old: This New York Times story has tips for protecting your memory as you age, like listing U.S. presidents chronologically, then doing it backward. One idea I hadn’t heard: Read more novels. People with memory issues tend to stick to nonfiction because then they don’t have to remember what these fictional characters did in chapter one or on page 27.

My two cents: If reading is an issue, maybe keeping track of the characters in “Game of Thrones” or the Harry Potter movies could provide a decent mental challenge. Or try audiobooks.

Something new: Yeah, this is just a Barbie-related promo for the Oscars, but it’s a lot of fun.

Something borrowed: For those who love rom-coms (raises hand), this story suggests that “Anyone But You” could be leading a resurgence.

Something blue: Well, (rhythm and) blues in this case. PJ Morton, who won the Grammy for best traditional R&B performance, is among 36 Grammy winners featured in this NPR article about its COVID-era Tiny Desk concerts. Lots of great videos, from Taylor Swift to Killer Mike, from Wet Leg to Roomful of Teeth.