Curses

He approaches the house with trepidation, looking over his shoulder as he enters the eerie abode. He has spent the last several weeks living in fear. He feels he has been cursed. After all, he is a descendant of King Tut, his last name is Kennedy, and he is a devoted Cubs fan.

He wasn't too concerned when his engine blew, but when his transmission exploded, and his house burned down, he couldn't help but wonder if he was the target of doom. And when he lost his job, he knew he had to take action. Today he visits a curse remover.

Let's listen in. The curse remover, after listening to his litany of complaints, gathers her materials, little statues she made herself, and magic wands she purchased from the local metaphysical shop. Repeat after me, she says. "Voodoo hoodoo boodoo -- voodoo hoodoo boodoo." He repeats the mantra. "Again, " she demands. Again he obliges.

"Wait," she interrupts. "Where's the money?"

"Oh, yes, I have it here," he says as he hands her $3,000 in traveler's checks.

"Voodoo hoodoo boodoo."

"Done," she tells him as she escorts him to the door.

"That's it?" he asks.

"Yes, that's it. Well, almost," she whispers. "The curse removal will last only a month. You must pay me another $3,000 every month to keep the curse from killing you. And you mustn't tell a soul or the curse will strike you with a vengeance a hundredfold what it was before. Death will be quick and torturous otherwise."

And so it goes. People who feel cursed receive more than their fair share of calamity, generally on a regular basis and generally completely disproportionate to what they perceive the rest of the world receives. They are even willing to pay people to get rid of the curse.

But curses seem to belong only to people who believe in them. Curses become entombed within self-fulfilling prophecies that energize like little batteries that keep going and going. The continuation of bad luck confirms to the believers that they have been cursed.

Whenever anything bad happens to a member of the Kennedy family, the media jump in with PROOF that the Kennedy curse exists, despite the fact that other people have the same and sometimes more misfortunes than the Kennedy family. The only difference is that the Kennedy family lives in the public eye.

Remember the hoopla surrounding the notorious serial killer, or should I say series killer, the Cubs Curse ball? On February 26, 2004 at 7:31 pm, the Cubs hoped to put an end to the curse by destroying the ball that they believed cost them the World Series in 2003. Armed guards protected the death row murderer until its destruction that supposedly served as a symbol to signify the end of the curse.

So now the Cubs will win every World Series, right? Maybe next year. I hope so for the sake of the guy who just spent another $3,000 in Traveler's Checks. (By the way, an enlightened honest person will not ask you to pay them exorbitant amounts of money to help you spiritually.)