Skip to main content

I'm not Superstitious

Dear Members and Constituents,
Superstition is defined as an irrational belief arising from ignorance or fear. No one wants to be called irrational, ignorant or fearful... so why are people superstitious? How do superstitions get started? I suppose it goes something like this:
(1) Man walks under ladder.
(2) Paint bucket spills on his new suit.
(3) Man starts proclaiming to the world it is bad luck to walk under ladder.

Superstitions generally revolve around luck. Good luck (finding pennies, horseshoes, four leaf clovers, the number seven) and bad (stepping on cracks, black cats, breaking mirrors). There are old superstitions handed down from time immemorial and there are new ones sports fans and gamblers alike create anew every year. Somehow, Friday the 13th has gotten an especially bad rap in the world of superstition. I think it's time to change that. After all, Friday is a day when the weekend is calling at your door and donuts are waiting for you at my desk. And 13, well, that's a baker's dozen (unless, of course it's Winchell's which has 14).

Monisha Merchant (donut girl) graces us with a Winchell's Friday the 13th treat. So come on down, your luck has just changed for the better.

Happy Friday!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

BIrds of a Feather

Friends, The early bird catches the worm, however, as the sun rises I’d much rather have a Denver omelet than a diet of worms . Ready to fly the coop, my ducks all in a row, I ponder one more time whether a bird in hand is truly worth two in the bush. Egged-on by my quest to tuck away a nest egg, I’ve decided to change industries and hope that, like the phoenix, my career will also rise from the ashes of change. After all, I’m no spring chicken –my crow’s feet and gray bely my age – however, I have to trust my judgment and believe you can’t catch this old bird with chaff (whether or not folks think me an odd bird for my actions). And so I shall attempt to soar like an eagle, aware that counting my chickens before they hatch would be ill-advised. As I learn to talk turkey in the language of cybersecurity, I will endeavor not to hide my head in the sand, choosing instead to be like a duck – calm on the surface and paddle like hell underneath! And while my excessive use of bird-inspired

Love and Marriage go together like a Horse and... Donut!

Friends, My family gained a new daughter last week. As I welcome the freshly minted Mrs. Gonz├ílez, I wish the new couple a lasting, loving, happy and tranquil marriage. I am also reminded of a special delivery I received at the wedding. A few weeks ago, my niece/goddaughter held a “go fund me” and offered to stitch something for the donors. I, of corse, asked for a horse jumping through a donut. The completed masterpiece depicting this unlikely combo now has a special place in my office, and brings a smile to my face every time I see it. That said, I may forgo the obligatory donut today and opt for some of the leftover cake we still have at the house. Happy Friday!   New addition to the Family Horse through donut  with the artist   Horse through donut at it’s new home shelf P.S. The donut wall in action.

Life is Smiling!

Friends, You know life is good when even dinner smiles at you. That said, digging into smiley soup can pose a dilemma. At a conscious level, you know it’s just inert food. Inanimate, unsentient, incapable of emotion or feeling. Still, those cute cross eyed egg eyes and that little pepper smile are saying ”I’m your friend” —and friends don’t eat friends. Naming your anthropomorphic dish only makes matters worse. Eventually, being the monster I am, hunger wins. Mmmm, delicious! (Sorry, Sally). Speaking of which, maybe skip the smiley faces on that next dozen donuts. Happy Friday! ;-)