My Odometer hit a very special landmark on Friday.
When I was in grade school I had an obligatory shower I took before bed at 7 pm. I developed a ritual then. I liked coming out of the shower and stepping into the bedroom when the digital display on the clock read 7:17. If this was accomplished the next day would be a good day. Does that sound like OCD to you? If you hit the link, point 2 under compulsions makes the most sense in my case. In a nutshell, the child-me was trying to assert some power over a world that could prove itself cruel and lacking in certainty. I eventually outgrew the ritual but the number 17 remained a talisman foreshadowing good things. From middle school and up until my early thirties my fixation with the number was dormant in the background of my psyche (mixed metaphor?). In my early thirties the importance of 17 returned. But instead of the clock display, license plates and odometer readings is where the number started to once again 'speak' to me. This may be due to my increased time in traffic. License plates that have 717 on them mean 'good day'. Conversely, 313 means 'be careful' (this is an invention of my newly burgeoning psychosis). The trip odometer reads 717 seventy one point seven miles after every trip to the gas station where it is reset. The main odometer will only read 717 once. And I didn't own the car when that happened. But the number in the picture, a pallindrome, will also only happen once. I was exited about reaching this mileage point and took my camera with me to capture that magical moment which would transcend me into an era of good fortune. Ironically, it occured on Friday the Thirteenth. "Can't Win For Losing" as they say.
I was saddened to see that Kurt Vonnegut passed away this week. I was never forced to read his work when I was in school so I had the opportunity to read it at my own leisure when I was older and could absorb it better. Breakfast of Champions is like The Little Princefor adults. If you are ever allowed the opportunity, read it.
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