Friday, December 13, 2013

Luck and a Lady

They call you lady luck
But there is room for doubt
At times you have a very un-lady-like way
Of running out.
You're on this date with me
The pickings have been lush
And yet before the evening is over
You might give me the brush....

Today is a day on which every one of us can use an extra dollop of the Luck of the Irish.  You may scoff at the black magic associated with Friday the 13th but courtesy of a lesson learned a lifetime ago on a snowy, wintry Friday 13 of February vintage, I do not and shall not. 
Whenever Friday the 13th arrives during a winter month, I smile at the thought of that long-ago evening Mom, Dad, Kara, Jill and I spent as refugees at the home of Dad's colleague - and my history teacher - Helen Brown.  Mrs. Brown was a terrific teacher and an even better human being.  Yet those qualities did little to quell my embarrassment at having been forced to have a sleep over at her house. 
Our impromptu camp out was the result of Dad having driven too quickly through a too-deep puddle on a South Plainfield street during a winter storm.  His car died.  And with it so did our likelihood of making it home.  To this day I cannot recall how exactly Dad got in touch with Helen Brown but he did. 
Turned out to be just our luck.
Be careful out there....

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