Happy 13th everyone!
I love the number 13. Now. I have many reasons to. Two of my children were born on the 13th of their respective months. My oldest graduates highschool in the class of 2013. And I love the idea that perfectly sane and reasonable people can have a fear of a date or number. It makes my phobias seem so much more…normal.
I am a drama geek, or rather I was. In the theater there are so many superstitions, so many I can’t remember them all. The first play I participated in was that Scottish one. You know the one I mean. Yeah, that one. I thought it was so funny how so many people avoided calling the play by name. The contortions folks went through with their words to avoid it, especially in the auditorium itself, were gargantuan and hilarious.
Another superstition I participated in was that of saying “break a leg” instead of “good luck.” Good luck is apparently bad luck but breaking a leg is good luck. It is all very confusing. And I never know if I should say break a leg or good luck to someone who is about to go perform in some other venue or be interviewed or some other pursuit like that. So I usually say both and tell them to take the one they prefer with them.
I had a drama coach in college who cancelled all his classes and refused to leave his house on Friday the 13th. He said he had been in two car accidents on the 13th and a number of other bad things had happened. I suspected his nervousness about the date had more of a contribution to his disasters than any box on a calendar. I played along. As a drama geek I had to blend in right?
These days I use locker 13 at work to store my stuff and I pick 13 when someone asks me to pick a number, any number.
So Happy Friday the 13th to all of you out there. Whether you are hiding under your bed for the day or venturing outside to embrace it. Break a leg.
