Have I ever told you why 13 is my lucky number

— why on my every baseball jersey I wore 13, even today on my adult league?  I grew-up at number 13 on my block.  That worked out well for me.  I didn’t die.  Grown-up, double check.

Then in April of ’18, I was pedestrian struck.  On a Friday.  In April.  Friday the 13th of April.  Also didn’t die.  I jumped.  Like flickin’ Batman, I jumped and rolled on that distracted bastard’s hood.  Hurt like all-get-up, though.  That distracted bastard.  But, I didn’t die.  Lucky.


























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