Tag Archives: Friday The 13th

The Luckiest Unluckiest Day Ever

It wasn’t until later that I realized he was born on Friday the 13th.

Unluckiest of unlucky days in Western culture, Friday the 13th is a triskaidekaphobics worst nightmare. It rarely comes about, but when it does, it’s usually wielding a machete and wearing a hockey goalie mask.

But not this month. On June 13, Casa de Dude celebrates! We kick up our heels and dance and sing (although not as much these days for reasons that should become apparent in only a few moments) and just generally enjoy life because June 13, this year falling on a Friday, is the day our family became complete.

Friday the 13th of June is Hyper Lad’s birthday. This is the year he’s turning 15, which means he’s already got his grubby little paws held out and ready to take the car keys and go for a little spin. The fact that he has no learner’s permit because his driver education teacher still hasn’t gotten around to him yet. . . Well, that means little.

He’s fifteen. He’s ready to drive. At least in his mind.

I say our family became complete because Hyper Lad is the youngest of our three young dudes. He’s six years younger than our oldest and five years younger than our middle son. In fact, we weren’t supposed to have Hyper Lad at all.

My wife, known to me as She Who Must Be Getting Her Way, and I thought we were finished procreating (although not practicing) after Zippy the Travelin’ Boy. Eventually, though, she began to yearn for another female in the house. Once she said that, it became apparent that I really needed a daughter as well since I look darn good on the dance floor wearing a tux at a wedding.

Instead, we got lucky and didn’t get our wish. Instead of a girl, we got a Hyper Lad and we couldn’t be happier.

Our oldest son, Sarcasmo, had to suffer through first-child paranoia as his mom and I freaked out about anything and everything related to our darling. Our middle son, Zippy the Travelin’ Boy, stayed sheltered in the harbor of our good graces and had vigilant parents every on guard. Relaxed, but on guard.

By the time Hyper Lad came along, we were pretty much okay with him doing just about anything short of juggling the razor-sharp blades we kept in the open, unlocked drawers in the kitchen. And even that, provided he had a good reason for it.

Having older brothers, Hyper Lad has benefited from being around (slightly) more mature age cohorts for most of his life. He’s probably more emotionally mature at 15 than his brothers were when they were his age.

Since he was smaller than everyone around whom he wanted to hang, he had to develop a quick left and an even quicker wit to survive. And he has.

His teachers see the same things that we do: one of the sharpest minds, with one of the most wicked senses of humor to have come around in a long while. He’ll frequently make an offhand joke about current affairs we happen to be discussing that’s amazingly quick, amazingly on-target and blisteringly funny.

His mom and I will just turn and look at each other — once the laughter finally dies down — and trade astonished gazes.

While Hyper Lad lives up to his name (and his blog name here), he’s not constantly rushing around and ignoring everyone else. The young dude is consistently polite (to non-dad people) in almost every situation and looks for ways to help everyone he can.

Not to say he’s perfect, of course. I mean, I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve come thiiiiiiisssssss close to popping an aneurysm in my brain from the crap he will drop — literally drop — wherever it is he happens to be done with it. If that means he’s finished with a band-aid wrapper six inches from a trashcan. . . Then he drops the wrapper to the floor six inches from the trashcan.

And, being a teenager, he’s now discovered the joys of sleeping in until the sun warms up. . . say, sometime around 3 pm.

So, yeah, he’s got a lot of things to work on. But, here’s the deal about that: We’re just so glad we get a chance to watch as he does. It’s going to be an interesting experience.

Here’s to you, Hyper Lad! Have a happy birthday and know we love you. And we dearly want to live through you learning to drive, so please work on that.


We also take a moment to remember Hyper Lad’s Great Grandmother, my Grandmother, Irene Jones. A wonderful woman, my grandmother died three years ago. She and Hyper Lad were both born on June 13 and called each other Birthday Buddies. So here’s to you as well, Mama. You’re missed and loved.

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Bringing It Down

by Richard

Here’s hoping you dudes made it through Friday the 13th yesterday in relatively good health. If so, congratulations. If not, well, welcome to my world.

It seems like there’s some puritanical karma enforcer who’s taken a very significant interest in my case. You see, I went out to Vegas for a few days of gambling, drinking (non-alcoholic), smoking (second-hand) and generally just having a good time doing a couple of bad things.

Now, most hedonists would see this as the start of a good time. A puritan would be appalled by my flagrant disregard for the immutable moral standards which have served our civilization so well for so many years.

Guess which one won the argument over who got to hang around with me on my return from Vegas. I’ll give you a hint. It wasn’t the hedonist. That could have been fun, lying around and generally relaxing until I started to feel better and got ready to return to daily life.

No, I got the puritan, who thought I should understand suffering since I had done so much to acquaint myself with sin. Yeah, on the way back from Vegas I started getting a sore throat. By the time I made it all the way home, the sore throat had graduated to nuclear levels. Seriously, I was worried about my hair (such as is left) falling out from the radiation levels given off by my glowing-in-the-dark red throat.

The bug immediately thereafter set up shop in my lungs and proceeded to send out invites for the party of the century to all its little buggy friends.

So, coughing, stuffed-up nose, runny nose, mucus as an uninvited guest, all that fun stuff. Yeah, Friday the Thirteenth was nothing as compared to that one.

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Blood Tales: Sticking My Nose Where It Doesn’t Belong

by Richard

It’s fitting that this part of the story gets to be told on Friday the 13th. It’s a bit ugly, dudes, so hold on.

I was in the cabin, trying to rest and recover, while the rest of the family had debarked the Freedom of the Seas cruise ship to enjoy the wonders of Cozumel, Mexico. When suddenly. . . I really, really, really had to go to the bathroom. It was No. 2 so you know I had to go.

Using the small amount of feral cunning most dudes possess, I figured that standing up and walking to the bathroom would be an invitation to me passing out again and I wanted to avoid that. Especially since I had to  void something else. Trust me, there’s a reason I have to talk about that.

Anyway, I sort of hunched my way to the bathroom and was able to do that movement that was so necessary. I was feeling pretty proud of myself for figuring that one out.

And then I woke up on the floor, half in the bathroom and half in the cabin itself, shivering like I was in the midst of a fever and bleeding from my nose. Yeah, I’d managed to really hit something hard enough that I — it turned out — broke my nose. (Non-displaced fracture in the distal end of the nose, for those of you with a medical bent.)

So, dripping blood onto the carpet, I got up on all fours and crawled to the bed. Only to repeat the process again a couple of hours later. Up. Pass through. Pass out. Wake. Shiver. Blood. You know the drill by now.

By the time my wife, known to me as She Who Must Be Getting At Least The Tinniest Bit Concerned By Now, returned, I was a mess. She helped me clean up the blood and got some ice for my nose. Still, though, we were thinking virus. We figured the best thing to do was wait until after 7 pm, when we put out to sea, and then head to the infirmary. Otherwise, we were worried, we’d be put off the ship in Mexico and then we’d miss the last days of our cruise. Oh, yeah, we were smart.

Having made that decision, she took Hyper Lad up to enjoy some time on the Flow Rider, which is this continuous wave machine on which you can boogie board and surf, that’s located on the back of the ship.

It wasn’t so much the meddling kids that foiled that plan as it was housekeeping. Bruce, our cabin dude, walked in, saw the blood on the floor and my face and decided to rat me out to medical. They came for me in a wheelchair, which was probably a good idea, considering that I was then too weak to stand. And off I headed to the ship’s infirmary.

And off we head in into the weekend. I’ll be back with more of the story on Monday. The weekend’s for fun stuff.

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