The man who mowed a message

...plus 9 lucky numbers, too

I’ve only been up five seconds and must decide what to click first: The man who mowed a message he hopes his ex-wife will see — or the man who built a secret world for seahorses at the bottom of a bay.

Words open, unlace, arouse. They come in a pinch, a jam, a nutshell, a mad rush, a month of Sundays. They bring you the heartbreaking something of a tragic whatever and the transcendent magic of something else. The transcendent magic is my favorite part.

I used to write headlines.  This was called writing heads. People want to know what they’re going to get and nothing tells them that more quickly than numbers in headlines. Like 5 rules.

Not just any number, though, the magic numbers. For example, 3 is a magic number. It is better to have 3 rules than 2 or 4.  Speaking of numbers, this has been proven by research that cost a few zillion dollars.

5 is a magic number. 7 is lucky. 6, 8, and 9 are unlucky. If you have 6 tips, add 1 or delete. Ditto, if you have 8. 10 is excellent, above, 10, everything is worthless until you hit 25, 50, 99, 100, and 1001. But, of course, some headlines aren’t true.

Like: How to quit smoking in 30 days or your money back. How to quit any bad habit in 30 days or your money back. How to write a bestselling book in 30 days or your 30 days back. Which brings us to time.

Clocks imply that time ticks predictably forward, which is not true. Time tips, trips, rips, stops. Slips through your fingers, your neurons, your skin. I’m an antique.  And I’m short, too.

While I formerly towered at 5’2.9 ½” as in nearly 5’3”, I am now just under 5’1”, courtesy of a few discs that don’t have cushions anymore. That’s spinal diversity, even within one spine, mine. But I keep on keeping on.