FRIGGATRISKAIDEKAPHOBIA

Took this picture of a tree at Hawk Lake in York PA (eye-ball added). The title of this post is actually a word. It describes someone who is afraid of Friday the 13th. And there are nearly 20 million people walking around in fear today.

Actually, this is either the unluckiest, or luckiest, day, depending on how different people view it. It’s not certain where this superstition comes from, but it might go back to Biblical times. Since ancient time, both the number 13 and Friday have been know for misfortune and bad luck. By some.

Part of the reason 13 got a bad rap is because it comes after 12, which is a number of “completeness.” For example: 12 months in a year, 12 hours in a clock, 12 tribes of Israel, 12 days of Christmas, 12 Apostles of Jesus and 12 eggs in a dozen.

Many hospitals don’t have a room number with 13 in it, nor do they have a 13th floor. The same thing goes for tall buildings. Normally the 13th floor is skipped. Some airlines omit Gate 13. There is at least one Friday the 13th in every year, and at the most there are three, as was the case for 2015. 

Not everyone fears this day, in fact, some are convinced this is one of their luckiest days in the year. Read this tweet from Taylor Swift. “I was born on the 13th. I turned 13 on Friday the 13th. My first album went gold in 13 weeks. My first #1 song had a 13-second intro, every time I’ve won an award I’ve been seated in either the 13th seat, the 13th row, the 13th section or row M, which is the 13th letter. “Whenever a 13 comes up in my life, it’s a good thing.”

Sounds like she's conquered the FRIGGATRISKAIDEKAPHOBIA thing.

INSPIRED AT MYSTIC, NIGHTMARE ON BLOCK ISLAND

What is Mystic Seaport?  Ask three people and chances are you’ll get three very different answers. To some, it’s a family destination offering all kinds of fun activities. To others, it’s a maritime museum. And to still others, it’s a maritime research center. In fact, it’s all three – located within 19 acres on the banks of Connecticut’s Mystic River. 

Our family has vacationed twice in this town where we have made special memories.  Each time we were there it turned out to be a quintessential New England experience.  Many people don't realize that Mystic is only 6 hours from Central PA.  

Early in the morning I really enjoyed sitting on the dock watching the ships pass through canals which connect upscale townhouses to the ocean.  Except for the seagulls, it was just me and my friend. (Starbucks Coffee)  The water level is low in the canal, so you can see everything in each boat as they slowly pass by the dock.  I was fishing but didn't catch anything - since I was so fascinated with each boat as it headed for the ocean.  

There were plenty of shops for my wife and we even discovered an old used book store with treasures we still enjoy to this day.  If you are traveling east on Rt.95 remember this special place to visit.  Turn left on Rt. 27.  

NIGHTMARE ON BLOCK ISLAND - Our experience about 2 hours down the road from Mystic was one we would like to forget.  We traveled to Rhode Island and decided to take a ferry to Block Island.  Block Island has been called the "Bermuda of the North," but we had a bad experience getting to the island. 

It was a windy day and the waves were unusually high during the entire ferry ride.  About 10 minutes into our trip our daughter turned white.  My wife was fine for a while but soon turned white as well.  I grabbed some bags which filled quickly from what they had eaten earlier that day.  Even though it was only 13 miles from the shore to the island, it seemed like it took days to arrive.  The first thing my wife said when she got off the ferry was "I am NOT going back on that boat"  Did I mention we were on a island?

Now I had a problem.  I checked our options and was told the only alternative was a tiny plane at an airport in the middle of the island.  I called and got reservations for the next plane and arranged for transportation to the airport for my wife and daughter.  Then I took the next ferry back to the shore and drove until I found the airport where they would land.  (This area between Block Island and the Rhode Island shore was where John Kennedy and his wife crashed their plane.) 

We finally were re-united but never really had an opportunity to check out the island.  I thought it would be interesting to do this a few years later, but my wife was clear I would be checking out the island on my own.

THE BLUE AND PURPLE BIRD THEY CALL GREEN

GIFFORD PINCHOT LAKE

When this bird landed nearby and waited for me to take a picture, I thought it was a "loon". I've seen loons at the lake before, but not this colorful. 

Coulda' Been a Life Changer

ARMED ROBBERY became personal to me about 50 years ago. Looking back, this true story could have taken my life in a completely different direction. 

For the middle of May it was an uncomfortably hot evening in York, PA. I was studying for my final class at "The Academy of Arts" in a small third floor apartment with a fellow student named Bob, who became very well known in the art community in the Southwest.

Anyway, we had no air conditioning, so our street-side windows were wide open. At about 10 pm our studying was interrupted by the sound of a car screeching to a stop.  We looked out the front windows and saw a car stopped sideways in the middle of Beaver street. What we didn't know from our third floor location was that the driver ran from his car into the first floor of our apartment building, through a hallway and straight out the back door.  

Distant sirens became louder and in less than two minutes four police cruisers surrounded the guy's car. From our third floor window it was a scene straight out of a TV show.  It's dark, sirens and scanners are blasting, and cops with flashlights are searching for their suspect.  A neighbor across the street told the cops that the driver of the car ran into our building so they all now converge just below us.  From our windows we are watching this small army.  That is, until one cop points his flashlight straight up in the air.  He sees my friend, shouts "halt" and orders him to come down the three flights of steps to the front door.

With guns pulled the cops climb the steps and proceed to ransack our apartment; pulling off mattresses, throwing clothes from dressers and pulling books from shelves.  We had no idea what they were looking for, but I recall thinking that this excitement was much better than studying.  Both my friend and I were taken down the steps and forced up against the outside of our apartment building, handcuffed and each taken in a separate cruiser to the York, PA police station. 

When we first got to the station, a detective encouraged my friend and I to come clean. He said they had a witness and escorted us to an room with a one-way mirror.  Behind the mirror was an elderly lady who witnessed an armed robbery at a convenience store on Queen Street.  We stood there for a few minutes and were then escorted back to the detective who said she identified us as the robbers. We were given the option to make a phone call. 

Now I'm thinking that quiet studying in a hot apartment isn't all that bad.  And just as I decided to call my dad we were told to go back to the room with the one-way mirror.  Turns out the convenience store clerk had been patched up at York Hospital - after being pistol whipped and beaten by the robber. The cops brought him to the station and when he saw us, he said he had no idea who we were, but was sure neither of us were the suspect.  Two weeks later we read in the York Dispatch that the police caught the suspect in Florida.

One benefit of getting older is perspective.  Had the clerk died, this evening incident "coulda' been a life changer". Who knows? I coulda' landed in the York County Prison and my wife, three kids and 14 grandkids wouldn't be part of our life today. 

CREEPY

DOVER COMMUNITY CENTER TRACK

While my wife and I were walking on the track at 5:30am this morning, a black crow kept following us.

HE STILL LOVES US

On this day eleven years ago I had a fun lunch with our Mom as we compared treasures from another trip to Ollies. (Good Stuff Cheap). Inside one of my $2.99 treasures was an illustration of the Swiss alps. Since Mom visited the alps, she appreciated this story in Swindoll's book "Hear Me When I Call".

THE ART OF OBSERVATION

..... an interesting book written by Charles Swindoll.  The book is full of stories and illustrations, like this one:

A small bottle sat upon the desk of Sir Osler. Sitting before him was a class full of young, wide-eyed medical students.  The subject of the lecture that day was the art of observation.  To emphasize his point, he announced:

“This bottle contains a urine sample for analysis. It’s often possible by tasting it to determine the disease from which the patient suffers, if we observe details.”

He then dipped a finger into the fluid and brought it into his mouth. He continued speaking: 

“Now I am going to pass the bottle around. Each of you please do exactly as I did. Perhaps we can learn the importance of this technique and diagnose the case.”

The bottle made its way from row to row, each student gingerly poking his finger in and bravely sampling the contents with a frown.  Dr. Osler then retrieved the bottle and startled his students by saying:

“Gentlemen, now you will understand what I mean when I speak about details. Had you been observant, you would have seen that I put my INDEX FINGER in the bottle but my MIDDLE FINGER into my mouth.”