1. My wounded psyche. In American culture it’s considered one of the ultIimate symbols of bad luck. Which makes 13 the quintessintial unwanted number. Many a high rise has bypassed the 13 altogehter. It’s the ultimate underdog number. And seeing as how for many years of my adolescence and beyond I thought of myself as an underdog—at the very least subconsciously—is it any wonder I’ve gravitated towards 13?
2. Divine inspiration. Jesus and the 12 apostles. 12 + 1 = 13. My birthday is on June 12th. Add 1 and you’ve got…13.
3. Glory days. 13 was my number when I played on 2 of my favorite sports teams growing up. Freshman basketball with a bunch of guys who remained some of my closest friends throughout high school. And the JV baseball team that tied it’s 1st game—then closed out the season with an 18-game losing streak. A team that featured during one game an outfield of me in centerfield, Brother Deke in left field and Cousin Mike in right. (The same Cousin Mike who’s now got 4 daughters, a couple grandkids and a recent 1-year jail sentence for violating his parole and being in possession of some credit cards and IDs for people at least a couple decades older than him. Or so I hear.) There were some characters on that team. And we had quite possibly the worst coach in the history of baseball. And I loved the fact that my brother, my cousin and I all played the outfield in a game. We were like the Bad News Bears version of the Alou brothers.
4. Mr. Arnebold's 8th grade shop class. We had a project where we learned how to make a silk screen for a T-shirt. For some reason I chose to make a silk screen of the number 13. I’m not sure why. I still had never been #13 in any sport. It must have been my favorite number at the time.
5. For little white guys everywhere. Steve Nash. The ultimate sports world #13. Although an argument could be made for Dan Marino. Or A-Rod. And what do these guys have in common other than the fact that they’re all Hall of Famers who wear/wore the #13? None of them has won a championship. They’re the flashy guys who put up the big numbers, the guys who are fun to watch. But for whatever reason they just couldn’t get over the top. Again, I know the feeling. Another 13 connection.
6. Creation. According to the Old Testament God created the world in 7 days and 6 nights. 7 + 6 = 13. Now I’m not sure I believe in the absolute truth of the stories in the Bible. They seem more allegorical—especially the Old Testament stuff—than actual fact. Still, the 7 days and 6 nights story—the penultimate creation—jibes well with my creative/creator mindset.
7. Herbie the love bud. I love the fact that back in the day 13 was Hell’s Angel code for medicinal herbs.
8. Rebel yell. I wonder if my attraction to 13 is rooted in rebellion. It’s like, you tell me 13 is an unlucky number? I say, who are YOU to tell ME what’s lucky or unlucky for me? I’ll decide that. Better yet, let’s act like 13 is actually a lucky number. I’ve always felt different. Maybe this has been an unconscious, even subconscious, attempt to rattle cages and cultivate my free thinking soul. Or merely bullshit? Much ado about nothing?
9. The Stilt. Wilt Chamberlain. #13 on one of my favorite Laker teams of all-time. The first Laker championship team ever. A year before my 13th birthday. A decade later while I was at UCLA I nearly backed my Pinto into Wilt, who was—no lie—driving a Volkswagen Golf. (Back when he was doing commercials for them.) Another decade after that when I was living on the coast I saw Wilt playing in a coed volleyball tournament 4 blocks from my apartment in Manhattan Beach. And then there were the alleged 20,000 lovers. R.I.P. Wilt.
10. Lucky me. It’s actually considered a lucky number. I didn’t find this out until a couple years ago. In 2005 I met a girl on Salt Spring Island who told me that 13 was, in fact, considered an especially lucky number in many cultures. Soon after meeting Butterfly I met Ray, my personal herbal specialist, who informed me that 13 was the ultimate number in the Mayan calendar, which is on the verge of ending in 5 years.
11. Synchronicity. I love how the number 13 keeps popping up all over the place in my world. The #13 pool ball Princeton Matt found while gutting his first house in New Orleans. The 13 student volunteers Santa Cruz Christine came to Common Ground with. The 13-year-old language arts students I taught today at Gardner Middle School. The 13 tapes I ended up shooting of Eddie during our 13-day trip together. On my last night in New Orleans getting dropped off by a cab driver—whose only instructions were to find us a decent place to eat after 2am near the French Quarter. To my utter shock, he drops us off in front of a restaurant/bar called 13. Lots of crazy 13 out there.
12. The father of 13. When my dad raced motorcycles one of his numbers was #13. This must have seeped into my brain at a very early age. There were photos of him racing before I was born that I looked at not ingrequently growing up. It wasn’t until I saw a photo that Sister Julie had reprinted and put on Trey’s wall that I realized Dad was a #13 himself. In the world of dirt bike racing years before ESPN and the X-Games.
13. What's in a number? Plenty, if the number is 13,013. Take a closer look. 13 0 13 … first of all it’s a palindrome. Just like BOB. And if you look at the number just right—and visualize moving the 1 and the 3 closer together—you get a number that spells out BOB. Crazy, I know. But that's how this particular Bob brain works.
