Jinx
Today I was driving to the doctor's office, and I thought, "This car hasn't had a problem in a couple months." [This is a long time for a car with 12 years and 110,000 miles under its belt.]
Shit. I have most definitely jinxed myself.
I'm really good at jinxing things. For example, I have worn my Terrell Owens jersey three times this season. The Eagles have lost every time I've worn it. Until Sunday, they'd won all the other games they'd played.
It's not just the Terrell Owens jersey, either. I also own a James Thrash jersey and an Irving Fryar jersey. Soon after getting the Fryar jersey, he retired. A couple years later, he un-retired, signing with the division rival Washington Redskins. He also neglected to return his retirement gift (a motorcycle) to the Eagles. James Thrash went from a decent wide receiver to a terrible one as soon as I got his jersey for Christmas. He was later traded to the Redskins.
It seems that more often than not, jinxes will come back and haunt you. Even though I'll take perfect care of my ancient Ford Explorer to counteract the jinx, I know it's going to have trouble within the next couple weeks now. If it doesn't, I'll probably forget about it, though.
That's the thing about jinxes: you tend to forget about them if they don't come back to haunt you, but if they do, you'll remember it for the rest of your life.
The real test here is a jinx I made that I'll never forget. I was thinking about when my grandparents died once, and realized that all the deaths occurred in a four-year pattern. My dad's mother died in April of 1995. My mom's dad died in May of 1999. My dad's dad died in July of 2003. I fear greatly that my mom's mom will die in 2007. It would undoubtedly be the most guilty I've ever felt in my life. I may have killed my last remaining grandparent.
But maybe not. Like I said, it's the jinxes that don't happen that become the forgotten ones. Chances are, theyre have been far more failed ones than successful ones.
By the way, please don't buy me a Donovan McNabb jersey for Christmas.
Shit. I have most definitely jinxed myself.
I'm really good at jinxing things. For example, I have worn my Terrell Owens jersey three times this season. The Eagles have lost every time I've worn it. Until Sunday, they'd won all the other games they'd played.
It's not just the Terrell Owens jersey, either. I also own a James Thrash jersey and an Irving Fryar jersey. Soon after getting the Fryar jersey, he retired. A couple years later, he un-retired, signing with the division rival Washington Redskins. He also neglected to return his retirement gift (a motorcycle) to the Eagles. James Thrash went from a decent wide receiver to a terrible one as soon as I got his jersey for Christmas. He was later traded to the Redskins.
It seems that more often than not, jinxes will come back and haunt you. Even though I'll take perfect care of my ancient Ford Explorer to counteract the jinx, I know it's going to have trouble within the next couple weeks now. If it doesn't, I'll probably forget about it, though.
That's the thing about jinxes: you tend to forget about them if they don't come back to haunt you, but if they do, you'll remember it for the rest of your life.
The real test here is a jinx I made that I'll never forget. I was thinking about when my grandparents died once, and realized that all the deaths occurred in a four-year pattern. My dad's mother died in April of 1995. My mom's dad died in May of 1999. My dad's dad died in July of 2003. I fear greatly that my mom's mom will die in 2007. It would undoubtedly be the most guilty I've ever felt in my life. I may have killed my last remaining grandparent.
But maybe not. Like I said, it's the jinxes that don't happen that become the forgotten ones. Chances are, theyre have been far more failed ones than successful ones.
By the way, please don't buy me a Donovan McNabb jersey for Christmas.
posted by Kevin A. Doran at 2:02 PM
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