Yikes. It’s Friday the Thirteenth. Most assuredly a bad omen of certain demise. Demise of what, though? That’s not quite so certain.
Black Cats and Ladders also have omens attached to them. Forget the ambiguous threat resulting from walking under a ladder. Unless your eyes are glued to the small-screen entertainment in your hands and your thumbs are more in control than your feet, why would you ever walk under a painters ladder. I’ll admit even that is not guaranteed bad luck. That is, unless that painter is me.
Ask Sue. I have emptied a can of pain while taking one step down from a two-step stool. On another day of redecorating, I painted a large area of our hardwood floor—along with my shoe stuck in a gallon can clunking crazily for a one horribly ungraceful stumble. It was a Technicolor version…both hue and language…of a Buster Keaton silent movie.
A third paint mishap involved me placing a considerably weighted box on top of an upright, uncapped, can of red spray paint. You do understand that hissing is not in the audible range of my hearing aids. The first evidence that I was painting the antique chair, on which I was stacking spray paint, was the off-hand chance that I noticed mottling of my white sneakers and the puddle of drippage on the garage floor beneath the chair’s leg. Mine too, incidentally.
Very true. None of these involved ladders or black cats. Nor red ones either, for that matter. Honestly, I do not recall these misadventures occurring on Friday the 13th. Furthermore, no other of my definitively “Bad Luck” tales have happened on that supposedly fateful day. My question therefore is expanded from “What bad luck?”, to “Why Friday”?
It’s quite easy to understand why not Monday the 13th. Mondays are notoriously bad. Especially true if you are still cleaning up paint spills that happened over the weekend. Tuesdays? Nah. They are just Mondays after a National Holiday. Besides, if the 13th falls on election day, it is necessarily unlucky for half the ballot.
So, how about Wednesday? Nope, that doesn’t get my vote. Wednesday, any date, already has a great nomenclature substitute…Hump-day. Besides, Humpday-Thirteen just doesn’t have the roll-off-off-your-tongue feel like Thirteenth-Thursday. That’s my idea of the best shift from Friday the Thirteenth. Also supporting that thought, statistically Thursday is the least likely day for the 13th of any month. Come on, who wants Friday…the highest chance of the 13th. , to be ill fated.
There you have it friends. Let’s start a ground-swell movement to get the tradition changed from Friday the 13th to Thirteenth-Thursday. Write your Representatives. Get them to initiate a proposal for a congressional decree. They don’t seem to have anything better to do. But don’t do it today. It’s the thirteenth—that’s certainly a bad omen.
Last week my brother, Rick, sent me a very nice piece of prose that he wrote. Within that story, Rick described the magnificent colors on the trees which he could see from his “Front Porch”.
This week I should invite him to come to my house. I’m hoping he will be able to write another heart-warming story about the view from my “Front Yard”…while he is helping me rake leaves.
Last week he could see the glorious hues of fall. This week all I see are grungy smudges of brown after the fall. What do you think? If Rick can find splendor in the tree’s last week, he ought to be able to write Splendor in the Grass Too, this week.
Actually I am only halfheartedly complaining about the hard work of clearing the lawn. I do appreciate the vibrantly dyed leaves on the trees surrounding my home. The operative word is “on”. “Off” their limbs the leaves seem stained rather than painted. That’s the half of fall I do not look forward to.
I have chosen to stay in Michigan because I honestly enjoy all four seasons. Certainly there is visual beauty all year round. Unfortunately, observable magnificence is soon-after mitigated by physical exertion.
Freshly fallen snow with drifted sculpturing is a marvel to see. Snow blowing, in opposition to blowing snow at negative wind-chill, is a task I do not particularly enjoy.
In the Spring, there is always glorious “new life” of sprouting bulb plants. Of course also sprouting are the grass runners I didn’t get out of the lilies when cutting them back last fall.
Ah, yes…Summer eventually arrives. Progressively warming sunshine, …gradually longer days to increase daylight pleasures, …steadily varying beautiful and fragrant blooms, …more and more of everything—including mosquito bites, weeding and lawn-mowing.
Now it’s fall. Yup, it is nice that the scorching heat of August is falling to a more comfortable level. I suppose most folks don’t actually mind the steadily shortening days. Now the sun falls below the horizon while we’re still awake enough to enjoy those God-crafted paintings. And, as I began this bit of Frivolity, Fall is fabulous before the fall.
Yup, fall I did while climbing the unstable compost pile to dump a bag of Toro-scrunched leaves. However, I think that was more my fault that the fault of fall.
Before………………………….and……………..After the fall [about 4’ high]
At breakfast this morning I opened a cereal that I’ve never tried before. Especially when I am about to try a new product, I quickly peruse important information.
Normally, “Organic” is not a particular selling point for me. However, this cereal was free to me as well as free of what some might consider contaminants. Me? My 5-second rule is closer to a minute. Furthermore, if there’s a bit of grit stuck to whatever I dropped, it will help with tarter control. So, any assurance that no fertilizer was used on the corn in the cereal is, in my mind, no assurance that wild things did not defecate near the stalk these particular kernels came from.
Also, apparently a big selling point for this cereal was REAL Honey. Hold on there Bubba, y’all tellin’ me there’s some unethical bees out there makin’ fake honey? Besides, even if artificial honey was used, there’s twice as much cane sugar in this cereal as honey…according to the “Nutritional Notice” and ingredients. If I were a bee, I’d be organizing a protest swarm.
As I could not actually taste honey on the organically tasteless granola, I decided to supplement with honey from our cupboard. It’s good to know that the bee-union has total control of where their workers forage. I was squeezing out Pure Clover Honey.
Back in my teen years, I was an apiculturist—Bee Keeper. To have productive hives we put no restrictions on the plants our bees harvested nectar from. To be honest, they pretty much ignored “get away from me”, so a sign on the hive “Clover Only” would be fruitless — figuratively, but certainly not in the comb honey.
One of our neighbors has a half dozen hives. She advertises her honey is “Goldenrod”. Nice marketing word. The fact that her honey is certainly golden in color further entices buyers to trust in that authenticity. I did mention that her hives are in my neighborhood, didn’t I? I’m not about to sue her for false advertising, but do wonder what her bees do from thaw to September.
Regardless of whether she removed all of the Spring and Summer honey just before Goldenrod blooms, I am quite sure I’ve seen her bees on my Russian Sage. Wow…think about that marketing ploy. Sage flavored Goldenrod. Furthermore, from my youthful experience and current knowledge of the plants in our neighborhood, theirs is not nearly enough Goldenrod nearby for a bee keeper to harvest several quarts of even “mostly Goldenrod.”
With all of this in mind and you still trust “Truth in Advertising”, let me bee clear. Bees do not read. Bees do not produce PURE anything and it is all REAL to them. They cannot taste or spit out nectar that’s not Organic. Therefore, forget the labels and enjoy the best sweetener Naturally produced.
Ouch…oooh, that doesn’t feel good. I think I’ve pulled an index finger muscle. Oh, no…maybe I’ve got mouse-click-induced carpal tunnel. It is not surprising considering I’ve clicked my way through about a dozen on-line surveys this week. By golly, one of these days, I’m gonna win a $1000 gift card. I wonder if it will be redeemable for a wrist brace.
It seems like almost every retailer now has a link to a survey on their receipt. Some have instant coupons, but most entice you to their survey with a chance to win. Beats me why I sucker for that 1-in-a-bazillion chance. But then, there really isn’t any other good reason to do it.
I rarely take the survey to actually help the store improve. Generally, I only take the survey to be eligible for the sweepstakes. Did you know that you cannot participate in any of these sweepstakes where they are prohibited by law? Darn, that takes most of the fun out of it.
Oh, and don’t forget the carte blanche permissiveness of most sweepstakes: No purchase necessary. Seriously? Now you tell me, where can I get postage stamps without purchasing them? Yup, you can ONLY enter the sweepstakes two ways. On-line, with a valid “purchase receipt” …or by mail, if you don’t make a purchase at the sweepstake sponsor’s store. Last I knew, the postman will not deliver an entry which has no purchased postage stamp on the envelope.
In case you have not read any sweepstake rules lately—and most of them are boilerplate—here’s a couple which I believe are extremely important.
You must be 18 years, or older, to enter. Oh, but wait…if you are, in fact, under 18, and happen to win a sweepstake prize, your mom can sign your “affidavit of eligibility.” Excuse me? I’d have to do more research to be sure, but this sounds like it’s bordering on prohibited by law in most jurisdictions of the United States.
Reading the rules further, I find the ultimate, superfluous, caveat. If for any reason, including but not limited to, misdirected, mutilated, unintelligible, written, telephone, or electronic communication; hardware or software program failure; network or computer malfunction …or for that matter…failure or difficulties of any kind; your entry will be declared invalid. Whoa, hold it there! Ya mean, if y’all don’t get my entry, cain’t read it, or it mysteriously rockets into cyberspace, it taint no good?
Oh, yeah, and “Any prize notification returned as ‘undeliverable’ may result in forfeiture.” May result in forfeiture? Hmmm, summarizing: A 16-year-old, running from the law with no forwarding address who tosses their entry in the gutter, may not win?
With all of this in mind, you might imagine that I often succumb to filling out the surveys rather flippantly. In addition to the aforementioned superfluous rules, some of the questions within the survey itself are hardly applicable to most of my shopping experiences. Here are some thoughts that reverberated in my skull while filling out a particular retailer’s survey.
How would you rate your overall shopping experience? Hmm, how to answer this rather limited question? I didn’t go into the store to buy overalls, only a tube of glue. Even if I did want clothing, what’s with the gradient of choices between 1 and 5? All they needed were two options…succeeded or failed. You know what? If they really wanted a valid survey, they should give out receipts for failed shopping ventures. Yeah, the greeter could hand out an Exit Interview form saying “good bye” to empty-handed shoppers at departure. “Sorry you couldn’t find anything to buy, but here’s a dissatisfaction receipt with a chance to win a gift card.”
Was there a sufficient selection for you to choose from? I obviously bought the item I was shopping for, so apparently the store having one in stock was sufficient. And again, why five choices from which to choose—5, being Highly Satisfied…1, Not Satisfied. I have always done better with true/false tests than multiple choice. Either I am or am not satisfied. Furthermore, by virtue of the fact that I’m taking this survey on-line, the question is moot. I bought something that resulted in me getting the coded receipt to access this survey, so the selection had to be sufficient.
Was the merchandise arranged in a way that made it fun to shop? Fun? I went to buy a tube of glue. Though I use glue in a well ventilated room, I suppose someone who sniffs glue for “fun” would likely rate this question a lot higher than I did if the store would have some bags and glue samples in a private sniffing room. That’s just not going to happen though. Even a long-since-teenaged geezer like me has to validate my age before the self-checkout will allow my purchase of glue…and it better not be open.
How would you rate the price-to-value of the item(s) purchased? A tube of glue? When was the last time you comparison shopped for glue? Besides, how could I be sure of its value this soon after purchase?
Considering your checkout experience, was the employee considerate of your time (1, extremely pleased to 5, unsatisfactory)? Oh, boy, that’s really not so tough to choose between 1 and 5. I mean, a “5” would probably be they scanned the glue and tossed it to me. Conversely, I’d surely rate it a “1” if they read the infinitesimally small print, warning label to me. The best and worst are relatively easy.
But how do you know if it’s a “2,” “3” or a “4” when they ask if I want a bag or not. There are so many ramifications to accepting a bag. My contemplation over whales, recycling and ozone alone, can usurp lots of my valuable time. It’s a very quick slide from a “2” to a “4” rating.
But, the most fun for me is the demographic questions at the end of the survey. I like to skew the marketing profile. For one of the surveys I submitted this week, I checked that I was single, had 12 children under the age of 18 and an income under $15,000.
Hmmm, now that I think about it, answering like that probably ruined my chances at the $1000 gift card.