The last Friday the 13th I recall specifically was my third year of teaching. The school at which I was formerly employed is notorious for two things: great test scores and detestable sports scores. We had not beat our rival football team for at least twenty years and we saw this year as no different. This was also one of the few games that I attended because everyone from our community (thousands of people...) came out to cheer their team on. Of course, the students would all come out to display their drunkenness, and teachers would come out to witness it all. It was all worth it: an incredible game, with each side within a few points of the other throughout the night. Finally, at the closing moments of regulation time the full moon hovered heavily above a score board displaying the standing: 13 to 13.
I went out with a few co-worker friends to an uber testosterone bar to recap our unforeseen victory. We had a good time and things remains at a healthy level of festivity, so I got bored and left. No messages at home, not a penny to my name, I decided against staying up and finding trouble and went to bed. After 2:30 in the morning my phone rang. I've never received a booty call (tear tear) so I knew something was wrong. My sister was on the other end:
"Dad's in the hospital. He's okay, but he's had a heart attack. Take your time, there's no rush, but you should come over."
All I heard was, "heart attack; fine; don't hurry." I was sure he was dead. Sensitive about reeking of cigarette smoke while visiting my closet-smoking dad, I jumped in the shower. This also made things more real for me.
The tears didn't come until I actually turned the corner in the ER and was able to peek behind the curtain to find my father sarcastically jabbing the nurse. He was fine. He was still positive there was an unseen elephant standing on one toe on his chest, but he was fine.
This is my recollection every Friday the thirteenth, and when these two insignificant events coincide with a full moon I wear red. I celebrate my dad, all that I have in life, and, like many wacky old women I know, fend off the evil spirits that surely must come along with the day.
1 comment:
I read somewhere that the number of people admitted to emergency rooms does increase during full moons.
This wasn't Grimsley high versus Page high was it? If so, I hate those damn Page Pirates!
And to answer your question about whether or not I use filters on my sky shots: no, I don't. It's just the standard lens, I don't have any attachments for it.
-Suley
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