Odds of Determinism Redux

Picture it, Detroit 1932, something peculiar happened to one Joseph Figlock, who up until that point didn’t think he was the type of person peculiar things happened to.
Especially not the types of things that if one were to come across them in fiction would cause an outburst of ‘that couldn’t happens.’
After all, he was just a street sweeper.
Undoubtedly, during the course of his duties, Joseph Figlock had to have come across a few oddities, things people toss out, things people didn’t want anymore, but that was probably the extent of his encounters with the abstract concepts of probability.
Perhaps it had something to do with exactly that.
Something to do with Joseph Figlock’s constant interaction with things discarded that resulted in it happening the first time.
However, two weeks later when it happened a second time, chances are Joseph Figlock began to seriously question likelihoods and probable events.

The standard definition of probability tells us it is the extent to which an event is likely to occur.
A philosopher would tell us that all things are probable given the unlimited space the Universe provides for us to drift about in.
Quantum Physics tells us it is probable that one day all of my electrons will suddenly jump from where I am to somewhere I’m not, providing I live for billions of years.
When faced with this possibility knowing I won’t live for a billion is a relief, as I’m already something of a nervous person and I don’t want to have to walk around dreading the possibility that I’ll somehow teleport to the Ice Capades.

I know, I know, I’m talking theoretical probability, the analysis of random phenomena, but that’s exactly what happened, so let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater just yet.

I am not Winston Churchill; you are not Andrew Lloyd Webber.
This is something we can be certain of.
There is no chance the opposite is, or can ever be, true, unless you actually are the Broadway composer in question and you are undercover collecting material for "Blog: The Musical," in which case you can go ahead and ignore this example since it is meant for people who are supposed to not be you).

I cannot become the first Queen of America.
There is no chance of that happening.
Strangely enough, there is a larger chance of my becoming the first Queen of America than of you being Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Granted, my becoming the Queen of anything would be curious circumstances indeed.
These are large enough odds, big clunky examples, that, when questioned, the answer becomes obvious.
Odds of successfully navigating an asteroid field are better or worse than Nicholas Cage playing Harry Potter in the next film?
When do chances become less defined?
When do the odds become uncertain?
Is there a way to start with the large and obvious odds and work our down to predicting the smaller stuff such as when we can expect a baby to fall on top of us, which is exactly what happened to Joseph Figlock, twice.
All parties involved survived to tell the tale.

It seems the more we can perceive, or the more we know the less something becomes a probability and the more something becomes certain, which is important for predicting coin tosses and when it’s our turn to have a baby dropped on us.