I love Friday the 13th. I am not superstitious, so today is a reminder of the freedom I enjoy in that regard. 

I don’t suffer from paraskevidekatriaphobia (fear of Friday the 13th) or triskaidekaphobia (fear of the number 13). I’m comfortable walking under a ladder, opening an umbrella indoors, and using the number 666. I don't care if a black cat crosses my path. Spilled salt and broken mirrors only bother me because of the mess they produce.

As the brilliant Stevie Wonder sings:

When you believe in things
you don’t understand,
then you suffer.
Superstition ain’t the way.

It boggles my mind that multilevel buildings still mark their thirteenth floor as “14” or “M” (the thirteenth letter of the alphabet). Ships, I’ve heard, will also avoid naming the thirteenth deck by its proper name.

That isn’t to say I don’t have fears and worries--I have PLENTY of those. But I don’t believe that numbers and mundane activities have any effect on the trajectory of events. And for that, I am grateful.

But I understand that even we so-called rationalists are susceptible to superstitious impulses. For example, I’ve been intrigued for years by Bruce Hood’s serial killer’s sweater test and wonder how it would make me feel. (Would you wear a dry-cleaned sweater that had belonged to a serial killer?)

If you suffer from superstition, consider all the superstitions you *don’t* believe in and ask yourself why one superstition could possibly be more “real” than another.

• In Italy, the number 13 is lucky, but the number 17 is unlucky.
• In China, the number 4 is seen as unlucky because its pronunciation is similar to the word for death. Many buildings in China skip the fourth floor.
• In Japan, the number 4 is also seen as unlucky for the same reason, while the number 9 is taboo because it sounds similar to the Japanese word for torture or suffering.
• In some parts of Afghanistan, the number 39 is seen as cursed or shameful because of its association with pimping and prostitution.

And those are just a few number-centric superstitions. There are sooo many other kinds. In Turkey, you’re not supposed to chew gum after dark. In Lithuania, you shouldn’t whistle indoors. In India, you oughtn’t give or get a haircut on a Tuesday. And in the US, people knock on wood, pick up pennies, and break wishbones—all in the hopes of coaxing luck to their side and feeling like they have some control over this chaotic series of events we call life.

Whether you believe in superstitions or not, I do hope you’ll have a happy Friday the 13th, and that it will be, for whatever reason, filled with good fortune.

I volunteered for the High Plains Comedy Festival back in August. At orientation, all the volunteers took a moment to introduce themselves, explain their volunteering roles, and name their favorite comedians. When I admitted that my favorite comic was Louis C.K., it was with a lot of angst-ridden facial expressions, wringing hands, and the preface of, "I know this is bad, but..."

My strenuous ambivalence was due to the revelation that Louis C.K. had, over the years, engaged what is euphemistically called "sexual misconduct," but which was, more accurately, "masturbating in front of women who were intimidated by him."

Fast-forward to the end of last month, when a bootleg recording of a recent Louis C.K. performance surfaced. It contained disparaging comments about "kids today" (my cliché, not his), painting them as overly confident, overly demanding, and overly entitled. Specifically, he derided 1) the survivors of the mass shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, and 2) kids who don't identify as male or female and have the audacity to say so.

I'm not going to talk here about whether this was cruel or tasteless. I'm not going to opine about whether it was funny or not.

I'm just going to say this: The idea that today's teenagers should behave exactly like Louis CK did in the early 1980s is not only fallacious, it's the very definition of anti-progressive. It's no different from crotchety old racists who want to keep abusing black people because that's what they've always done. Progress means recognizing that old does not equal good, and that we always need to work to recognize our shortcomings and mistakes and commit to do better.  

So, though the rosy tableau Louis C.K. paints of youths of lore "finger-fucking each other and doing Jello shots" is surely charming, I'm going to point out that It's not the immutable ideal. It's not helpful. It's not good enough.

Progress means realizing that when your friends and siblings are getting gunned down in front of you and adults are doing absolutely nothing to stop it, it's time for you to effect change. Despite Louis C.K.'s declaration to teens that, "You’re young. You should be crazy. You should be unhinged," they can't really afford to indulge themselves like you did, Louie.

Look at Mari Copeny. This child isn't even a teenager yet and she's done more for residents of Flint, Michigan (whose water is still poisoned), than politicians five times her age seem to be able to. She's raised tens of thousands of dollars to provide residents with clean water and to give students backpacks filled with school supplies. I wish this little girl could enjoy a more carefree life. But I deeply respect the fact that she decided she can't afford to. She has a true moral compass. A commitment to positive change. She has optimism and a conscience, and she serves as a shining example for how we can—and should—do better.

Louis C.K. could learn a lot from her.

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I don't mean the horror franchise. Rather, I love it when the 13th day of the month falls on a Friday. Because I am consciously, pointedly, relentlessly un-superstitious. I'm comfortable spilling salt. I have no trouble with the number 666. I've even opened an umbrella indoors within the past week.

I identify as a skeptic. I value facts and science, peer-reviewed studies and reproducible results. I fact-check on Snopes. I question authority. When I lived in Sarasota, I happily fraternized with the Suncoast Skeptics. I appreciate science-based medicine—both the concept and the website founded by Steven P. Novella. And I love the podcast he hosts: The Skeptics Guide to the Universe. And though I like to consider myself a critical thinker, I also know how susceptible all humans are to a multitude of rhetorical and logical fallacies.

So I diligently resist being swayed by myths and mysticism, and instead focus on and embrace reality. Consequently, I live a life free of paraskevidekatriaphobia. So: Happy Friday the 13th, everybody!

Call me a heretic, but I'm no stickler for the Ten Commandments. I am comfortable cursing and coveting, and I like to use the Sabbath (both of them) for activities like racquetball, brunch, and naps.

I, like George Carlin, feel like the Ten Commandments have some shortcomings. If it were up to me (and it definitely isn't), I'd propose ten different commandments for folks to follow.

1. Thou shalt not leave a mess. Please put your chewing gum in the trash. Place your vodka bottle in the recycling bin. And keep your company's filthy chemicals out of our water and air.
   
   
2. Thou shalt give others the benefit of the doubt. You never know what other people are dealing with. Heartbreak. Heartburn. A bounced check. An eviction notice. A migraine, or mental Illness, or all of the above.
   
   
3. Thou shalt volunteer. It's good for the world, and it's good for you.
   
   
4. Thou shalt allow adults to do pretty much whatever they want, so long as no one is getting harmed. What grownups do in privacy for entertainment is truly no one else's concern.
   
   
5. Thou shalt never justify anything by saying that others have done it. Just because your mother frequently flogged you does not make child-flogging beneficial. Just because others cheat on their taxes, their exams, or their wives doesn't make it right.
   
   
6. Thou shalt verify before sharing. The more titillating and shocking a story, the more crucial it is to check its source, check Snopes, and check to see if other credible news outlets corroborate it.
   
   
7. Thou shalt vote. Never take any election for granted. Never take your democracy for granted. Never take anything for granted.
   
   
8. Thou shalt avoid using or succumbing to logical fallacies. As humans, we are all susceptible to these. Learn to spot them, and cry foul.
   
   
9. Thou shalt question authority. Just because someone is in a position of power—whether they are a teacher, a boss, a high priestess, or a senator—they are not above scrutiny. In fact, authority figures ought to get more scrutiny.
   
   
10. Thou shalt not follow lists like this one. Never blindly follow opinionated rules. Unless they make sense to you. Then, by all means.

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"Worrywart" is such an ugly word. Just because I have the ability to imagine the worst-case scenario in every situation, you don't need to call me the name of a disfiguring skin virus.

I worry, therefore I am prepared.

I know that a recently mopped floor could cause someone to slip and fall. So I warn everyone in the house to be careful.

Chocolate left on the kitchen table could tempt our voracious little dog to jump up and poison himself. So I make sure said chocolate gets put away properly.

As a copywriter, I imagine every potential disaster. (And there are so many!) Will this confuse or mislead people? Will the type be too small or too light for them to read? Will it print poorly? Could it be misinterpreted as an obscenity? (I check Urban Dictionary frequently.) How horrible would it be if there were a typo in this ad, which is worth thousands of dollars and will be viewed by thousands of people? PROOFREAD OBSESSIVELY. And then proofread again. Any maybe again.

Fortunately, as a skeptic, I only worry about real outcomes. I'm not superstitious. I don't worry if I spill salt, or walk beneath a ladder, or have unclean thoughts. But there are still an abundance of worries to fill my brain: Did I hurt her feelings? What if I sleep late and miss that meeting? What if the stock market tanks or I have a stroke?

Today, I had an exchange on Facebook that characterizes me perfectly. My friend Lorin is excited because he's getting a scooter. I rained caution on his parade. But only because I care.

Recently I wrote about how, as a kid, I believed that Sea-Monkeys were genuine hominids I could purchase and reconstitute with tap water. But that's certainly not the limit of the ignorance and confusion I've demonstrated through the years.

As it turns out, advertisers can be deceptive.

Let's look at Exhibit A, above. In the '70s, this ad appeared in comic books and depicted what I thought I was going to receive when I ordered... a family? a colony? a kingdom? of Sea-Monkeys. I genuinely thought I was going add water and create sentient bipeds. It gave me a moral dilemma, really. Would they be my prisoners? My slaves? Surely "pets" wasn't the right term. How could I withstand the responsibility of caring for them?

Well, I needn't have worried. Because this is what Sea-Monkeys actually look like:

Seriously, advertisers? You make credulous little kids believe they're going to raise mermaids and mermen, and you give them what are essentially microscopic water impurities?

Look at the ad. Beneath the garbage about how you can train these little aqua-bugs, down at the very bottom, you can see the disclaimer "Caricatures shown are not intended to depict Artemia salina" (the miniscule brine shrimp you'll actually receive).

What are they meant to depict, I wonder?