Friday, February 23, 2007
I'm a little upset about this new Jim Carrey psycho thriller The Number 23, which was released today -- February 23rd: my birthday. I don't know much about the movie except what I see in the trailers -- innocent man driven to madness maybe murder through the significance and persistence of the number 23 in his life. The reason it bothers me is that the number 23 has been a significant and persistent part of my life, but not in a murderous mayhem sort of way. It's always been just kind of around: My birthday, for starters. A randomly assigned cab driver number at one point. Phone numbers. Addresses that added up to it. I see it all the time while glancing up at street signs. It will catch my eye on license plates and delight me in gate numbers at airports. I don't consider it a lucky number. More of a comfort number. It's like finding blazes on tree trunks marking a long overgrown trail through the woods. It helps me believe I'm where I'm supposed to be and stop second-guessing my choices. I never bet on it or use it on lotto tickets. It has to happen naturally. I'm not particularly superstitious, but on this one issue I suppose I am. We all are to some degree, aren't we? When a black cat crosses your path don't you feel some little stab of dread? Just a tiny one? Well, seeing the number 23 is the opposite of that for me. And I don't like it being the basis for a psycho thriller. It seems....I dunno...unlucky.