Luck of the Draw
(Metaphysics • )
I don’t dabble in Tarot. An interesting history, but it has too many moving parts for me. I like my superstition in smaller, more manageable doses.
Like coffee cups. Or T-shirts.
Sometimes I’ll pull the first coffee cup upon which my hand rests out of the cupboard, in order to assess the day. The brown Texas Longhorns mug contains above-average luck, Aggie voodoo notwithstanding. I used to think the Catalina Airport in the Sky cup had the best luck, but then the handle broke off. Coincidence?
I have lucky T-shirts, but when I think about it, the personal luck they’ve brought me emanates in inverse proportion to the misfortune that befell their issuers. In other words, it seems that almost every company or operation for which I’ve worked or consulted that saw fit to buy and distribute shirts as promotional swag has subsequently gone out of business or been sold off.
For example, my luckiest shirt (so lucky I have three of them), is a black T with a red, black and white logo for Ya’ll.com, a great former brand (“Coverthing the South like kudzu”) frittered away by also-defunct Cox Interactive Media. At least someone else recognized it was a great URL, however, it just ain’t the same.
Recently I’ve found that the most accurate gauge of my daily juju comes from the personal photos on a memory stick stuck into one of those digital picture albums. The photos rotate according to settings in the gizmo. To set it to juju, you have to come down the stairs in the early morning darkness, find the “on” switch by feel, flip the switch without looking at the screen and then go make a pot of coffee. When you come back out, stop in front of the picture album. Whatever picture is currently on display – that’s your juju.
Today I got the Vietnamese shrimper. Not so great. Diligent and dependable, yes, but really low ROI.
→ B.Dunn, Sep 24, 2009, 08 08 am
