Friday, July 13, 2007
Friday the 13th~
I never bought into Friday the 13th being bad luck. I've never bought into any superstition. I've pushed the envelope and walked under ladders. I've swept up broken mirrors without a qualm, whistling a happy tune, in fact. So far so good, and I expect no change.
My students are always quick to inform me when it's a Friday the 13th.
"Oh no!" moaned one little boy, upon hearing the date. He banged his forehead on his desk. Not the luckiest thing to do.
Another said, "I've already had bad luck. I missed the bus."
"But you're here now," I said. "You weren't even late."
"We were all out of milk," another said. "I couldn't have cereal."
"But you had something to eat, right?" I asked.
"Yeah, Pop Tarts. I love those!"
"Well, there you go.".
I followed this dialogue with my Friday the 13th "look for good luck" mandate. I have a theory that you find what you look for, and I want to pass this along to my students.
Today, July 13, is a Friday. Bruce got a flat tire.
I was doing errands when he called me on my cell. How lucky I had it with me.
He needed a Phillips screwdriver for some reason. So I drove home to get it. Lucky us. We had several screwdrivers to choose from, and luckier still, I knew where they were. I met him at the high school parking lot. What a lucky place to get a flat tire: a parking lot only three miles from home.
By the time I arrived, there was a burley, young man helping Bruce change the tire. What luck!
Later a two more men wandered over. They were all members of the semi-pro football league that was setting up to play on the high school field.
If I ever need a tire changed, I hope there'll be several football players in the vicinity.
But these men, as helpful as they were, were moaning. "Man, it figures. Friday the 13th and you get a flat tire."
"Wait a minute," I said. "He got the flat in the parking lot right where you were. That's pretty lucky if you ask me."
But the tire wouldn't come off the car. The lug nuts were off, the car was jacked up, but the tire wouldn't budge.
Lucky enough, there was a station nearby, less than a minute away. I drove there, and an employee followed me back to the parking lot. With three bangs of his magic hammer-- the magic being lead shot inside, he said-- the tire was off. He put the spare on.
Bad luck. The tire had several nails lodged in the tread, and was not able to be repaired. So we have to shell out the price of a new tire. Great luck. We can deal with this. We'll still eat well, and have a roof over our heads, and so much more.
How lucky can we get?