I've had a good run of luck lately.
The Giants won the World Series thanks to my superstitious conniptions (I held onto my middle toe and put one finger in my left ear during tense moments), I exited Reno after nearly bankrupting the sports book game and Bonzie, my cat, didn't upchuck the entire week.
I'm hoping this leads to a positive outcome in Tuesday's election.
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Maybe I'll have had something to do with the positive outcome. I went to Reno this weekend to canvass for one of the presidential candidates because it didn't make sense to work for both of them. Our primary task was to get friendly voters to the polls.
Reno, which calls itself "The Biggest Little City in the World" might add more evidence to its slogan if voters in the city decide which way Nevada and the nation goes. Prognosticators says it's that close and Nevada and/or Reno might decide the election.
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It might be a good bet, even though I've never been much of a betting man.
But I'm feeling lucky. So lucky that I bet I'd kick Clint Eastwood's heinie in shuffleboard, or any game of his choice.
Every time I cross the state line I pick one game, plunk down my $5 and hope for the best.
In Reno this weekend, I put down $5 on UCLA beating Arizona State although I thought they wouldn't. I bet on them because I grew up in Southern California and love their powder blue unforms and gold helmets even if they always lose when they should win and never beat USC.
UCLA won big.
"Hand it over," I said to the sports book guy.
Grudgingly, he counted out my winnings.
I could tell he wanted to tell me to get out of town before I bankrupted the casino.
I could have, but I had voter canvassing to do. I didn't have time to plunder the casino. Maybe next time.
If we win Tuesday, I might go back to Reno and bet everything I've got on one roll of the dice.
Like I said, I'm feeling lucky.
