CAROLINE'S CORNER: CONTROLLING THE UNLUCKY NUMBER 13

Boulware believes that I think too much. This premise may be true, but my thinking brings me to some interesting conclusions. For example, I have determined what allergies and the number "13" have in common.

If one has allergies, being in the presence of one allergen might not cause him to have an allergic reaction. Being near one budding maple tree might not affect him. If the maple tree is budding at the same time that there are lots of mold spores in the air and the susceptible person is in a place where there are dust mites and dust, he could really be in trouble. If he is also allergic to milk and consumes this bovine beverage during this same time, he could "fall off the shelf," as our allergist explained to us.

Too many 13s at one time and place can cause problems for those who are susceptible to the terrors of the magic number. I learned this lesson the hard way. Once on a Friday the 13th, when my address was 113 Oak Hills Drive, on my 13th wedding anniversary and my car speedometer rolled onto 13,000, my family had an unfortunate experience.

Since that time I have carefully controlled my number 13s, so that they do not accumulate and cause my family to "fall off the shelf."

It is easy to take control of the number when I am getting up or going to bed. When I start to get out of bed in the morning, I glance at my trusty bedside digital clock. If the time is anything O'clock 13, I snooze until it is anything O'clock 14.

When I start to bed at night, once more I glance at the numbers on the clock. If it is anything O'clock 13, I do a tiny exercise, such as three leg-lifts or five sit ups until the number is 14. In this situation, the number is easily controlled.

Some 13s are not as easily controlled. Buying gasoline is sometimes a difficult task for me. My Saab holds about $13 worth of gasoline. Sometimes it becomes quit a feat to buy $12.99 or $14 in fuel. I either have to stop at a point under 13, knowing that I am not filling the tank, or I have to go to $14 and let the gasoline run down the side of the car, along the service station parking lot and into the street.

Another problem arises when I make other purchases along with the fuel. I don't encounter this situation often, but recently it did occur when I purchased gasoline and gum. The total was $13.13. When I saw the total, I hastily added a Snicker and an ice scraper to my purchase.

Usually getting a hotel room with the number "13" doesn't pose a problem. Hotels habitually don't name hotel floors or rooms "13", because there must be quite a few thirteen phobics out there.

Once I visited my daughter who was away at college, and I checked into a teeny motel in the small university town of Auburn, Alabama.

"Here is your key to room 13", said the clerk. "Your room is right around the corner and to the left."

I hastily looked around the lobby to see if any of my daughter's friends or sorority sisters were present. Then I mumbled, "Coudja gimme another room?"

"I am sorry. I can't hear you," replied the clerk.

"I don't like room number 13," I whispered. "Do you have another room?"

The clerk smiled knowingly at the weirdo of the day and replied, "We can give you room number 11, which is next door to 13. Would you like that, dear?"

I accepted the key to room 11 and tripped merrily past room 13, feeling proud that once more I had outwitted the accumulation of 13s.

I did notice that as I left the lobby, the clerk strolled over to her fellow workers and whispered to them, after which they all walked to the window and watched me trip to my room 11. Later when I went to get a Pepsi out of the machine and also when I checked out, the entire staff of the Heart of Auburn Motel stood in a single line and observed my actions.

Sometimes the manipulation of the numbers causes me to perform extra physical labor. Last Saturday was such a day. Because Boulware had to go to work, I decided to be a helpful mate and cut the grass. The thought came to me that I should count the number of times that I had to pull the lawn mower cord, so that I could say to Boulware, "Look how hard I worked today. I cut the grass and it took me nine pulls before the mower would start."

The mower was a little more stubborn than normal. It muttered on pull 11. It sputtered on pull 12, and on pull 13, it cranked. I quickly turned loose of the handle so the engine would stop. I tried again, and this time the mower cranked on pull number two. Two important tasks had been performed. The number 13 had been controlled, and now I could inform Boulware that it took me 15 pulls to start the mower.

I will continue to do everything that is in my power to limit my number 13s. If too many accumulate at one time, someone in my family might fall off the shelf again. Rest assured that you will never see me on Friday 13th on Interstate 13 at mile marker 13 while riding with 13 of my friends who are singing "13 Bottles of Beer on the Wall".

Caroline Simpson's is a weekly columnist for the Jackson U.S.A. Signal. Her columns and human interest stories appear in other Rust Communications publications.