That's pretty good that Brent is so lucky. I'm not lucky, so I'm really not one to talk, but I think that the real key to having good luck, in gambling, anyway, is to have a light, free spirit, and not feel any sense of fear or anxiety about the prospect of losing. As I'm sure I'm mentioned multiple times, my luckiest streaks in playing blackjack mostly came when I was on LSD, and felt only euphoria and lightness, and amusement at the fact that everyone in the casino looked like grotesque, badly dressed, overweight lizards. There was no tension or tightness, and I would win and win. Fear of losing attracts bad luck, like shit attracts flies. I'm assuming Brent gambles with a carefree, unconcerned spirit?
I have done reasonably well gambling with a game like blackjack over the years, but I have never, ever done anything but lose when I bet on horse racing. Fortunately, watching horse racing is fun and interesting enough so that it's still enjoyable, even if you lose a little money.
Interesting that Brooklyn carried that anxiety about bears. Well, if she's a worrier, then if it's not bears, it'll be something else, so I wouldn't feel badly about it. Actually, it's probably kind of a blessing that you gave her something tangible to worry about. If she didn't have that concern to focus on, maybe it would have spilled over into some kind of unspecified dread that would have been more emotionally damaging than worrying about something specific, like bears.
There is a family that is renting the house next to us. They are very protective of their children and constantly shielding them from unpleasantness. The son is in first grade. They don't make him go to school if he doesn't feel like it, and I sometimes see him practicing baseball with his father in the driveway during the day when school is in session. Not that it will do him any good... he seems like a very awkward kid and I wouldn't be surprised if he grows up to be gay. He already walks like a little gay person. Anyway, the other day, the guy who actually owns the house -- a very likeable and nice guy -- was in the garden, doing a little weeding and some work around the yard. The little four year old girl saw him out there, and became extremely concerned that there was a stranger out there. She asked her mother who he was, and she reassured the girl that it was okay. "What's he doing out there?" she wanted to know. "Who is that man?" And the mother told her that he owned the house. I guess they had never told the children that they rented the house and didn't own it, and when the little girl found that out, it's like she had a complete psychological crisis. The house owner told me about it later, and said she was still sobbing when he left. He was kind of mystified by the whole thing.
Reminds me of the Buddha, who started out as an extremely spoiled, rich prince in India a couple of thousands of years ago. His father raised him in such a way that he was protected from the knowledge that such things as suffering, sickness, old age and death existed. Of course, when he finally found out about those things, he completely flipped out and went off the deep end for a long time. But in the end, it worked out for him. He did become the Buddha, after all. Maybe the little girl next door will become an important spiritual leader when she is older. After she has gone through the years of suffering, rejection and disillusionment that are eventually necessary for all over-protected children, of course. I know that I already wrote about the Buddha in an e-mail about a year ago, by the way, but I don't think you read what I write very attentively most of the time, so I'm guessing it slipped right past you the first time around.
--edward
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