Under the Wire

Superstitious, me?

 


I have never considered myself a superstitious person, in fact I have made fun of friends who believed in any type of that behavior.

I will admit, however, if it is genetically heritable, I may have the gene. My grandfather with whom I was able to spend lots of wonderful time, would hardly leave the ranch house on Friday the 13th.

I do always try to carry a “lucky coin” in my jean pocket. Usually lose it in a few days. These coins come from a variety of origins. Sue gave me an Irish coin once, a souvenir of our trip there. It lasted a couple of weeks before disappearing. Sometimes I just pick a random coin from our kitchen change jar. Shiny pennies always catch my eye. Their small size dooms them to about three days before they are gone. I have ordained other objects “Lucky,” too. In my rodeo calf roping days, an article of clothing became my good luck charm.

In spite of that, during a practice session, the calf roper’s worst nightmare got me. After a running calf is roped from the back of an also running horse, the roper pulls his slack, then holds on to the rope so it can be laid on one or the other side of the calf, setting up his next move which is stepping off the now sliding to a stop horse and letting the still running calf propel him down the rope. Every once in a while the calf slows down, a coil develops in the slack rope and can settle around the ropers wrist. The result is not a pretty sight. Without going into detail, your next move is towards the closest hospital. In my case it was close by and, full of pain medicine, I found myself on a bed in the ER, Sue at my side. A nurse was manning a pair of scissors preparing to cut my shirt off to gain access to my semi-detached hand. I began, off in La-La Land, to yell at her not to touch my shirt. The surprised nurse turned to Sue and asked, “What’s with the shirt?” with as straight of a face as possible she replied, “It’s his lucky shirt.” I am sure the entire ER crew had to suppress their laughter after one remarked to me, “Well how’s that going for you now?” I guess shirts can’t be trusted to always bring the luck you need, so I gave up on them. Now my good luck charm is not one, but two shiny pennies.

I figure if they don’t bring me luck all the time, that’s OK. I am always equipped to “put in my two cents worth.” That is unless I have lost one or both coins.

Superstitious? Naw, not me.

 

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