Did you get through Friday the 13th unscathed? I hope so. I hope you are not a paraskevidekatriaphobic. Instead, I hope that, like me, you didn’t even realize that it was the supposed day of bad luck until it was long past.
Friday wasn’t a bad day at all. I had my
bad luck day on Thursday the 12th when half of my computer crashed.
I’m mildly superstitious. I try not to tempt fate. I knock on wood after making a bold statement such as, “I’ve never hit a deer” or “Everyone has had the flu but me.” Comments like that are sure to bring bad karma to my doorstep, so I try to fend it off by the old knock on wood. I’m not sure if it really helps, but it sure can’t hurt.
Other than my propensity for knocking on wood to ward off bad news, I don’t worry too much about the old wive’s tales that are geared to make you scared of everything.
Friday the 13th doesn’t frighten me—well, the creepy movies about Jason do—but the date itself seems benign. And in fact, I kind of like Friday the 13th.
To be contrary when I was a teenager, I decided I liked the number 13. If I had to pick a favorite number, I would say it was one, three, or 13. I don’t know why, but I just like 13.
It did bring me good luck. When Chuck was stationed with the Army in Mannheim, Germany, we lived on the 13th floor of our high-rise apartment building. Although we lived in the building for quite awhile before we realized we actually lived on the 13th floor. German elevators use “E” for the ground floor—for der eingang,
I think—then start numbering on the second floor. So, although the button we pushed for our floor said 12, we knew we were really 13 floors off the ground.
We spent many happy hours watching city life below. There was a streetcar—a strassenbahn—
turnaround right below our window and a lovely old church tower a few blocks away. There is something to be said for watching the sunrise reflected in skyscrapers or seeing the moon hanging over sparkling ribbons of streets.
So I didn’t mind living on the 13th floor, and the experience reinforced my fondness for number 13.
Many years later, I took a trip to Las Vegas and learned how to play roulette. I am not a big gambler, so I play the lowest minimum bid table possible, but I still won a nice little jackpot by betting a dollar on black, odd, and my lucky number 13. If I had bet more I could have paid for our vacation. But, as they say, that is why they call it gambling. I wasn’t a mega-winner, but 13 made for a fun afternoon in the casino.
So, I don’t freak out when it’s Friday the 13th. When Friday, August 13 rolled around, I didn’t even notice. As I said, I had already had the bad luck of losing some valuable computer files on Thursday, the 12th.
So I think I will start a new superstition. From now on when Thursday falls on the 12th, I will be concerned. I will start the day by knocking on wood. I have a wooden headboard, so that won’t be too hard. Maybe I’ll be extra safe and I’ll throw a pinch of salt over my shoulder and dig out the four-leaf clover I have stashed in my jewelry box.
Depend on the rabbit’s foot
if you will, but remember it
didn’t work for the rabbit.
R.E. Shay
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