I’ve never been a person plagued with any major allergies except for ragweed in the summer. Prior to puberty I was haunted by any number of allergies, but they went away at about age 14. Jump forward a few decades and all of a sudden, my allergies have returned with a bang. It appears that I’ve been around just long enough to go back through puberty in the opposite direction. That being said it’s a given that I’m sneezing a lot more than I’ve ever sneezed in my life. There are many reasons for sneezing and I’m not about to try and list them all. Let’s just agree, sneezing is sneezing, everybody does it, and that’s that. Since I come from a German background all I’ve ever heard when there was a sneeze going on was the German word gesundheit. It’s an automatic response meaning “good health”. I honestly never had any idea what it meant and only found out just recently.
I decided to check out a few other cultures to see if there was anything unusual about their responses to sneezing.
In many Muslim countries it translates out to “May Allah have mercy on you.”. Pretty cool but way too long.
In Serbia, they use the term pis maco, with children, which means “Go away, kitten”. Cute, I guess.
In Vietnam, cơm muối, is offered and means “rice with salt.” Thats a real puzzler.
Latin America’s is a little more interesting. The first sneeze earns a response of “health,” the second “money,” and the third “love.” I like this one the best.
A common story holds that around the year 750, Pope Gregory believed that a sneeze was an early sign of the contraction of the bubonic plague. Saying “God bless you” was a sort of deathbed prayer: ‘May God see your worth and help you, because you’re definitely about to die.” Isn’t that just heartwarming?
And “God bless you” seems to be very popular response with many cultures but of course not for those pesky atheists. They’re a little touchy about the “GOD” word.
So much for my sneezing trivia. Now that I’ll be housebound for the next four winter months breathing all of this unhealthy stale air, I suppose I’ll be hearing “Gesundheit” way too many times for the foreseeable future.
Many people have asked me why I don’t write about religion very often. Whether it’s Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Hindu, or any other, I don’t see the need. I don’t need an organization of millions to tell me; good is good, evil is evil, and bad is bad. Don’t do bad, don’t be evil, and do good. Is there any human being out there that doesn’t get that? I don’t think so. Even evil people know they’re doing evil and that they should be doing good, but they just choose not to. I also don’t see the need to be required to turn over a portion of my hard-earned wages so organizations can build gigantic, extravagant cathedrals, mosques, and temples in which to worship. To me it’s a no-brainer. If there is a God (I’m not a believer) and he’s everywhere, I can speak to him or her anytime I want. No church, no congregation, no donations, no preaching, and no stupid rituals . . . just simple communication.
In my humble opinion “simple” is the way to live your life. Believe what you will, keep it a private matter between you and your God (if’s that what you believe), and live your life. I have one philosophy and that is “Always do the right thing no matter the consequences”. None of this “do onto others as they would do unto you” nonsense. I don’t want to do unto anyone and I don’t want anyone doing unto me.
In the mid-60s I spent two wonderful years in the Republic of South Korea thanks to travel plans from Uncle Sam. I became immersed in their culture, their religions, and their people. I learned a lot. One of my habits on my off time was to travel through the countryside and explore. I’d hike between the minefields to reach the mountains and then just walk for miles.
It was on one of these walks that I had my eyes opened somewhat. I was probably four miles from the nearest hut, in the mountains near a place called Blue Lancer Valley. It was bright and sunny, and I hadn’t seen another human being or animal for most of the day. I was taking pictures and enjoying my time not being in the Army for a few hours. I walked around the bend in the trail along this mountainside and discovered a small statue of Buddha that had been carved into a large boulder a very long time ago. Stuck into the crevice in front of that statue was a bouquet of freshly cut flowers. I was always sorry I never got to meet the person who trekked all that way to place those flowers in that spot. That is a person who I would’ve liked to meet because for me that is religion at its best. Simple, private, heartfelt, and meaningful, at least to the person making the journey.
I’m still an unbeliever in all-things mystical but that day gave some hope. It demanded that I at least look into Buddhism as a simple way of learning how to deal with myself. I’m no Buddhist but many of their practices appeal to me, their simple way of living their life.
Over the years I’ve voiced my opinions concerning people obsessed with the supernatural and occult. Unfortunately, I haven’t always been kind in my criticisms and opinions about them. I’ve never been a believer of these superstitions like black cats walking in front of me or walking under a ladder. I always thought them silly, without basis in fact, just superstitious nonsense passed down from generations who apparently didn’t have a clue either. I hate to admit it, but I may have to eat my words.
While I totally scoff at almost everything superstitious, I discovered quite by accident that I’ve been paying closer attention to one superstition over the years and didn’t realize it. My obsession is and has been the number three. For most of my life I considered that my lucky number and if something occurred where I had to make choices and the number three was involved, I always picked number three. I don’t know why, it wasn’t planned, and I really didn’t realize the extent of the human races’ obsession with that number until now. So, I decided to do a little more research which opened my eyes even further. Here’s my homage to the number 3.
THE GENIE GAVE ME THREE WISHES
Three is the average number of seconds visitors to an Art gallery spent in front of each painting. Triceratops means three horned faces. Three goals are a hat trick. A triathlon is a three-part swim, run, and cycle competition. Any national flag made of three bands of color is a tricolor. The Three Musketeers in the novel by Alexander Dumas’s are Athos, Porthos, and Aramis. Dante’s Divine Comedy is structured around the number three, alluding to the holy Trinity. That book has three parts; Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradiso – each divided into 33 cantos in terza rima (three-line stanzas).
In Greek mythology, the three Fates control birth, life, and death; the three Furies upheld sacred laws; and the three Graces bestowed beauty and charm. The ancient Egyptians, Babylonians, Greeks, and Romans all had Trinity’s of God’s. Jupiter’s symbol is a three-forked bolt of lightning, Neptune’s a three-pronged trident, and Pluto’s, a three headed dog. Hindus worship the trinity of Brahma, the Creator; Vishnu, the Perseverer; and Shiva, the Destroyer.
In Christianity, Christ represents one third of the Holy Trinity (Father, Son, Holy Ghost); he was visited by three wiseman at his birth; 33 years later, after Judas betrayed him for 30 pieces of silver and Peter denied him three times, he was crucified at 3 PM and rose from the dead three days later.
Time is threefold: past, present, and future. Pythagoras called three the perfect number, denoting beginning, middle, and end. The strongest shape is a triangle. The three states of matter are solid, liquid, and gas. Earth is the third planet from the sun. White light is made from three primary colors: red, blue, and green. The three primary colors of pigment are red, yellow, and blue, whose totality is black.
I suspect that all of the number three’s I listed above are only a small sampling of the use of the number three. Over the course of my existence, I’ve been subconsciously pelted with the number three in virtually every phase of my life. How could I not have three as my favorite number? Brainwashing at its absolute best.
The subject of this posting is synchronicity which is just another fancy word for coincidence. Being a former criminal investigator I was trained to believe there is no such thing as coincidence. For quite a few years I truly believed that there weren’t but one midnight shift in the summer of 1974 change all that. I’ll try to keep this as short as possible but I tend to ramble so bear with me.
It was an extremely hot August night; it was Sunday which was one of the slowest days of the week for police business. My partner and I were bored out of our minds because due to the heat there was very little activity. Around 2:30 in the morning we drove back to the state police barracks to check on the desk man who was working alone in the building. We brought him some soft drinks and lunch and we settled down to kill a few minutes.
We walked into the desk area, and it was like a bomb went off in there. He had been given an assignment on a slow night to start purging old reports from the files. We’re talking reports going back for years or more and he had three large trash barrels completely filled with pink slips. The pink slips were slips where each call was recorded and then forwarded to the appropriate officers for follow-up and reports. While both of us felt really sorry for the desk man, we didn’t feel sorry enough to jump into that nightmare. After 20 minutes of whining, we were guilted into helping the poor guy.
I was standing over one of the trash barrels that must’ve contained at least 400 old pink slips. While I was talking to the desk man I randomly picked one up and quickly read the title. Now you got to go back with me a few minutes because an hour or so prior to our visit to the barracks we’d been on a call for a suspicious vehicle at a specific residence at a specific time in the northern part of our county. I looked down at the pink slip I’d picked out of the barrel, and it was dated exactly one year ago and concerned a suspicious vehicle at a specific residence at a specific time in the northern part of the county. It was identical to the call we just completed. Exactly the same residence at exactly the same time and for the same reason. Then it got really weird because the officers assigned to the original complaint were my partner and me. To say we were stunned is an understatement.
To this day I can hardly believe the whole thing happened but it did. I have absolutely no explanation as to how that could have come about which I suppose is what keeps it interesting to this day. It’s made me wonder upon occasion if some of the weird coincidences we hear about are absolutely true.
I just finished reading a book titled Incredible Coincidences, written by Alan Vaughan. He documents dozens and dozens of cases similar to this and of course can offer no explanation for his either. It seems to me that it happens way more than we think if his book is any indicator. I’m still not a big believer in all the weirdness that people alleged is out there, but this incident gave me pause.
I’ve posted many times that I was a cat person. When I was a kid, my father raised beagles and trained them for hunting. We never had less than 10 or 12 puppies scampering around the yard and it was one of my chores to feed them, play with them, and shovel up after them. I would leave the house with food and I would be mobbed by gangs of puppies and it was a lot of fun but it got old after a few years. I’ve always found dogs to be very needy to the extreme and that put me off a little bit. My parents continued after the closing of the kennel to have one or two dogs for the rest of their lives. It was just how they were raised and they could never understand why I preferred cats. I’m not about to get into a long explanation on why I prefer cats because I’m sure you’ve all heard the pros and cons. It just seems that people raised with dogs prefer dogs and people who were raised with cats prefer cats. I’m not saying that’s the way it is for everyone but that’s the way it was for the people that I knew and why I took so much grief when I refused to have dogs as pets. I’ve loved every cat that’s been in my life regardless of their quirks.
Relationship between cats and humans goes back as far as you can imagine. Most historians believe it all began in ancient Egypt where cats were worshiped and, according to legend, were responsible for eliminating a plague of rats in Egypt. Egyptians not only mummified their dead pharaohs, but also mummified their dead cats. Over the centuries many superstitions have developed concerning cats and I think I’d like to review a few of them now especially for those of you who are dog people. Let’s go…
In the dark ages cats were mistrusted and believed to consort with witches and warlocks. They allegedly brought evil and bad luck as well. Some folks reason that the bubonic plague that killed thousands of people in Europe during the medieval ages was caused by killing the then believed “evil cats.” In killing the cats, they were killing the natural predator of rats – the creatures who actually were spreading the plague with their fleas.
Most superstitions about cats have been passed down from generation to generation and most are utter nonsense but believed nonetheless. To this day many people actually believe that if your path is crossed by a black cat, you are in for some bad luck.
If a cat washes it’s ears, then bad weather is on its way. Or if the cat licks its tail, it is sure to rain. Of course, this has to be nonsense since that’s about all cats do is constantly wash their ears and tails. Cats are always cleaning themselves and are known to be exceptionally fastidious.
If the first person a cat looks at after washing itself is young and single that person will marry soon. For this superstition to work, you have to be young and single. You middle-aged people can forget about it.
It is said that if a cat is present at the marriage of a couple, they will have good luck in that marriage.
For those of you cat haters, don’t throw a cat overboard while on a boat. It is said that will cause a storm to blow up. And honestly if you throw a cat into the sea, you deserve to have a storm blow up.
Black cats spawned a variety of superstitions. If a black cat comes to your door, you will soon have a lover in your life. If a black cat adopts you, you will have bad luck, so send it away. If a black cat lies on a grave, it means the dead person’s soul is being possessed by the devil. And last but not least if you stroke a black cat’s tail seven times you will have good luck in cards.
If you see a white cat, that means poverty, just seeing a black cat means wealth. And if during a full moon you see a white cat it means you’ll be married soon.
The superstition that cats “suck” a baby’s breath away comes from the Dark Ages. A cat cannot and does not “take” a baby’s breath away. In fact, cats like babies and will often sleep at the bottom of their cribs the way they will sleep at the end of their masters or mistress’s bed.
Many people are frustrated in dealing with cats because they are not obedient. They obey no one unless they feel like it. In some circles they have a bad reputation similar to those given to independent women. What kind of a world would it be without cats or independent women? Think about it.
I’ve owned seven cats in my life, some good and a few not so good. I would never ever be happy unless I had a cat at my side. In my opinion they are absolutely the best pets ever. As with any pets if you rescue them from a shelter, you could get some surprises. Cats like any other animals if treated badly or abused never forget it. If you adopt from a shelter, be prepared to deal with the issues they bring into the relationship. If you spend the time, you can bring them around and you’ll be even closer to them than you would’ve been without all of those problems. I’ll recommend to anyone a shelter cat and would never turn one way. Pets are to be enjoyed but as with anything you must put forth the appropriate effort to welcome them into your family.
I’ve written many postings about the Christmas season over the years and as I recently read back through them, they appeared varied, somewhat interesting, and some even boring. I hate to admit that I was ever boring but there are times when Christmas can be a huge pain in the butt. I just don’t get the “buzz” like I did when I was a kid and it still amazes me that some people (without kids) turn into Christmas fanatics and go wild over it. I loved Christmas as a young child but each year I lost a little of the holiday magic everyone seems to be searching for. It saddens me a little but “it is what it is”. The only real enjoyment for me now is when the young grandchildren are running through the house wearing Christmas apparel and having a grand old time. I thoroughly enjoy living vicariously through them.
After my last two years of medical problems, I didn’t feel things would ever be getting any better. The years, 2019 and 2020, drained away what little fun I had left in me. If not for my better-half and a few other close family members I might not have survived to enjoy Christmas 2021, for that I am eternally grateful.
All of that being said, it’s time to prepare for the holidays once again. With the pandemic still gumming up the works I’m not sure what direction to take. Now that I’m cancer free you’d think I’d be ready to celebrate the hell out of just about anything. After the experiences of the last two years I’ve entered a phase in my life that was totally unexpected. I’ve become calmer, more thoughtful, and seriously introspective.
The grandchildren are no longer toddlers and are becoming actual people. They now can speak their minds and voice their feelings like never before. While I find that refreshing it makes my preparations for the holiday a little more troublesome. My education continues but now they are the teachers and I’m the student.
I now know more about Pokémon and the thousands of cards involved with that experience. It’s supposed to be a game but I have no idea what the rules are. I think he’s just messing with me because he seems to win every game. Which cards are rare and which ones are crappy, who knows?
I’ve seen the Alvin & the Chipmunks movie a hundred times and have been hearing that theme song in my head for five years. I find myself humming it at the oddest times, in the shower and while I’m cutting grass. Don’t even get me started about “Lady and the Tramp”.
I’ll bet you any amount of money that I know more about the cartoon “Larva” than anyone you know over the age of 15. I actually found myself purchasing a “Larva” tee shirt three years ago that the grandson wanted to give to his grandmother. Apparently, it was a bigger hit than I anticipated since she still wears it occasionally in odd moments.
I’ve also been coerced into becoming a soccer fan. I’ve hated soccer with a passion and have avoided it for most of my life. Not anymore unfortunately. Both grandsons have decided that soccer is a great game but it’s always much more fun when family members come to the games to cheer them on. So, my newest job is the official family sports photographer. I get to sit and watch groups of five-six-seven-eight-year-old boys and girls playing “at” soccer. Just shoot me now. It’s finally improving this year since they’ve added a real game to their curriculum, baseball. This I actually enjoy watching.
I guess I should be happy. Those boys have enough energy for us all and I think it’s rubbing off on me a little. They now have me looking forward to a Christmas I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to celebrate.
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