FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH

It is Friday already! Time flies for this old codger. I have always heard that time flies as you get older, but this is ridiculous. The weeks go by as fast as days used to. According to some, time is speeding up for everyone as part of the changing consciousness. I don't mind it speeding up as I am eager to get through our present era.

Today is Friday the Thirteenth. Am I superstitious? Not at an intellectual level, but I do have reactions at times. I counter them by turning them around. When a black cat crosses my path I think of it as a lucky sign. Whenever I think of black cats crossing my path I think of a trip coming back from Montana. {Late Sixties?}

We were taking a more southerly route than usual and we were going through the high country of Wyoming. It seemed like we were on one giant plateau. It was dusk and we were just exiting a town several miles east of Gillette. It was that time of night that can be enchanting or spooky depending on your mood. Just as I was leaving town a black cat ran across the front of the car. It didn't just run across, it flaunted across, as if to say “look at me.” Superstitious or not, I found it mildly chilling; alone at dusk the wife and children snoring softly as I drove along.

This was in June, during those long twilights, it seemed like dusk could hang on for hours. I wasn't sleepy so I continued driving. We had left the mountains far behind us and we were nearing South Dakota. Then just as it was getting too dark to see the easterly horizon, I saw looming up in front of me what looked like mountains. Mountains!? I had left the mountains hours ago. As I continued and discovered they were indeed mountains, smaller perhaps but mountains, I realized they must be the black hills of South Dakota. It was an entrancing experience. On the route we usually took, when we left the Rockies that was it, no more mountains. Right before we entered these new mountains, I turned on the radio and out of the night came the soothing voice of the overnight DJ from WCCO. I wish I could remember his name. It was a message from home. As I am writing this, I wonder if I drove all the way home from there, I don't think I could have. I don't remember stopping. In those days motels were a luxury.

This particular black cat didn't predict anything negative. He merely added a little enchantment to an enchanting experience. I don't think any of those people woke up. The kids of course were little. I think Donna remained curled up on the front seat snoring softly.

So far this has been a good Friday the Thirteenth. It has been a nice Morning. Doing a little of this and little of that. Talking to Jamie. Doing my crossword. Wondering what I was going to blog about. It must be a lucky day!

Have a Great Friday! Celebrate!

Love and Peace, Gregg