Posted in Culture, tagged humor, Superstitions on June 25, 2011 |
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I was walking my dog down a country road the other day and spotted a dime ahead of me. It must have had many cars drive over it since it no longer shined and the features of the head of FDR had been somewhat obliterated. “Never mind,” I thought. “How nice for me. I shall have good luck.” I picked it up and put it in my pocket for safekeeping until I could transfer it to my purse. I would not put it in my wallet to spend, but loose in the bag’s bottom where it would continue to bring me luck.
Later I thought about what a stupid thing I was doing. I am not superstitious at all. I am this left-brained person who is strongly reality based, don’t believe in myths, omens, legends, and even have trouble with religions. I don’t worry about black cats crossing the path in front of me. I like cats of any color and I don’t believe the cat knows that he/she might have such powers. I don’t walk under ladders because I’m afraid a can of paint, a brick, or a pale of water might fall on my head. I don’t worry about breaking the symbolic Holy Trinity and bringing bad luck to me and my family. I don’t nail a horseshoe over the threhhold of any door at my house; I think they are for horses and playing a game of pitching horseshoes.
I don’t rub a rabbit’s foot or cross my fingers when I wish for something. I drive my car and get on an airplane on Friday, the thirteenth whenever that happens. And when someone speaks of their good fortune and ends with, “Knock on wood,” I think what does that have to do with anything.
However, I once watched my dad grab a button on his jacket when two nuns crossed his path. He explained with a straight face that was to insure good luck. Why veryone knew that in the Ukraine. I don’t see nuns very often; so many of them wear street clothes now. But whenever I do see one, I intinctively grab a button. Daddy said so. Therefore it must be true.
And we all know for a fact that whenever I wash my car, it will rain the next day.
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I’ve finally found a little chunk of time to get back to my blogging. My writing time has been going to a fictional story that is bouncing around in my head. Perhaps I should say it has gone into rewriting the first ten pages two or three times. Each time I think it gets better. The down side is that I’m not getting on with it. Now I’ve come to believe that I should write the entire story down to its very end and then come back for my rewrites, however many they may be.
Then a couple of other events interfered with my gettting to this blog. One was attending a graduation in Texas and the other was a visit from an old friend for several days. I just hope I live long enough to finish writing my story.
Now, back to the visit from my old friend which was wonderful. We have known one another for —– years: too many to admit to. Shall we just say that we essentially grew up together. Our parents were best friends. The remarkable thing is that we were very different from one another as children. She was a happy, outgoing kid while I was shy, introverted and troubled. Somehow, we got along great.
Fast forward many many years. I moved away from my home town. She remained. Marriage and children followed. Careers followed. Happy events and unhappy events followed. Our lives took different paths. But somehow our friendship remained … strong.
My friend came to visit a short while ago and we found out that we are no longer so different from one another. We have, and have had, some of the same problems. We have dealt, and are dealing with them, in similar ways. We have some of the same interests: travel, reading books, going to the theater and concerts, movies, understanding world events and politics. The list goes on. The few days she was here just flew by and I can’t wait for our next visit.
Some childhood friends grow so different from one another over the years that they can hardly find a few words to exchange. How lucky I am that is not the case with my old friend.
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