Editor believes in things he doesn’t understand, suffers

Nov 14 • Kyle Joseph, Opinion • 368

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I have never been a very lucky person, but all those times I’ve lost playing “Loose Change” scratch-off tickets seemed to pay off this weekend.
I was studying in Zurn Saturday morning, minding my own business, until I got hungry and decided to go home to eat.
My usual route consists of heading down Sassafras until coming up on Ninth Street, and it’s a straight walk to my house from there.
On this particular day there was a man walking funny down Sassafras Street, so rather than race him to the corner I decided I’d just turn at Myrtle to avoid a potentially awkward situation.
Crisis averted. I turned down Myrtle and as I came up on the corner, there it was: a $20 bill.
There was nobody around, and I couldn’t believe something that lucky had just happened to me.
As any irrational person would do, I immediately wondered what horrible thing was going to happen next.
I half-expected an anvil to fall on my head walking the final block to my house.
Now I don’t know when I became so superstitious, but it’s been a while.
Most people have heard Michael Scott’s, “I’m not superstitious, but I’m a little stitious.”
I’m somewhere in between.
At the very least, it dates back to my baseball-playing days when I had a ritual for just about everything; tapping the plate with my bat in some kind of pattern before hitting, marking the infield with my cleats before an inning, you name it.
If it stopped working, I came up with something else. I guess I was never able to abandon that mindset.
Karma is real, and I think about it all the time.
There’s some kind of unfathomable, yin-and-yang nature to the cosmos.
Basically, don’t be a jerk. It’s the Golden Rule.
Same goes with jinxes. Don’t jinx yourself telling a distasteful joke or foolishly underestimating something. You’ll regret it.
Obviously, finding money on the sidewalk by complete chance was not somehow my fault, but the same idea applied.
The good and bad seem to balance out over time, and I wasn’t trying to open up an opportunity for future bad juju over $20, so I was too skeptical to spend it on myself.
Buying lunch at Dairy Queen that day or maybe picking up a six-pack of craft beer crossed my mind, but quickly passed.
I decided to give it to The ANNA Shelter down on 10th Street while I was out running errands Monday since I’d volunteered there before and was somewhat familiar with the place.
I’d adopt every dog there if I could, but I don’t exactly live the lifestyle for that right now.
So if you lost $20 on the corner of Ninth and Myrtle this weekend, then I’m sorry. It’s gone, but you can feel good about it.


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