By Jeff Mullin, Commentary
“I’m a great believer in luck, and I find the harder I work, the more I have of it.” — Thomas Jefferson
Today, of course, is the day nobody is lucky.
It is Friday the 13th. No, not another in the seemingly never-ending series of slasher movies of the same name, but the day on which those who believe in such things see nothing but ominous signs on the road ahead.
This is the third and final Friday the 13th for the year, an inordinate amount of bad fortune for any one 365-day period. We won’t see that many again until 2012, which, being an election year, already promises to be pretty unlucky for those of us who easily tire of the trappings of political campaigns. For the next two years, there only will be one Friday the 13th.
The fear of Friday the 13th apparently stems from the 19th century, but nobody knows for sure. Thirteen has long been considered an unlucky number, but how can Friday, since it is the gateway to the weekend, be considered anything but a lucky day?
According to the Stress Management Center and Phobia Institute, located in Asheville, N.C., some 17 to 21 million people in the United States are afflicted by a fear of Friday the 13th. Because of this fear many refrain from their normal routines on this day. They don’t go to work, they don’t shop, many don’t even get out of bed, resulting in an estimated loss of between $800 million and $900 million in business.
They stay in bed, huh? Hmm, that’s worth a try. Just kidding, boss.
I must admit I have my share of superstitions. If I spill salt, I will throw some over my left shoulder. I knock wood if someone talks about something I hope will or will not occur. I will not put a hat on a bed. That one was drilled into me by the cowboys who lived in my college dorm. I think they were just afraid somebody would sit on their Stetsons.
I don’t walk under ladders, but primarily because I’m afraid someone will drop something on my head. I don’t break mirrors, but simply because I hate cleaning up shattered glass.
Oh, and the whole black cat thing doesn’t bother me a bit. Black cats have long been said to bring bad luck. In China, black cats often are seen as harbingers for famine. In Germany, if a black cat crosses your path from right to left it is a bad sign and from left to right is a good sign.
A black cat crosses my path many times each day. He also sleeps on my lap, pushes open the bathroom door and barges in while I’m taking a shower and purrs when I scratch his head. Owning a black cat takes all the mystery out of that particular superstition.
There are all manner of other crazy superstitions, like picking up a penny for good luck, while leaving it lie means you will cry. I pick them up because I’m too cheap to leave perfectly good money lying around.
Biting your tongue is supposed to mean someone is talking badly about you. You are supposed to bite your sleeve to make them stop. But if anyone catches you biting your sleeve it figures to only make them talk about how crazy you are acting.
It is believed if a bee enters your house it is a sign you will have a visitor. Yes, you probably will — an exterminator. Keeping on the insect theme, a cricket in the house is said to mean good luck — and lost sleep when the infernal bug chirps all night. A frog is said to bring good luck to any house it enters — except, of course, for the person who has to clean the frog poo off the carpet.
Superstitions, of course, are silly and pointless. As of right now I am swearing off them. I will not throw salt over my shoulder, I will not fear putting my hat on the bed, I will not avoid stepping on a crack, will not wear the same clothes to my favorite team’s next game if they won the last one. And I will not worry about today being Friday the 13th.
Knock on wood.
Mullin is senior writer of the News & Eagle. E-mail him at jmullin@enidnews.com.
