The Mystic Seer

“The moon is always full, it’s just our view that is partial.” – Jackie Deakin

Being half-Italian I am prone to being superstitious.

I knock on wood, throw salt over my shoulder, avoid black cats and relentlessly search for all kinds of hidden meanings in numbers, dates and events.

I’m not saying any of these actions will ward off bad luck. I just don’t want to take the risk.

Superstition is at the heart of “Nick of Time,” one of my favorite Twilight Zone episodes.

This one features a pre-Enterprise William Shatner and Patricia Breslin as a pair of honeymooners whose car breaks down in a small Ohio town.

The couple go for lunch at a local diner while their car is being repaired and Shatner soon falls under the spell of a fortune telling machine at their table.

The “mystic seer” dispenses out vague answers to yes or no questions.

So, when Shatner asks if he’s going to get a promotion at work, the machine responds that, “it has been decided in your favor.”

Shatner calls his office and learns that he has indeed been promoted.

He quickly becomes convinced this novelty device can predict the future and he relentlessly shoves pennies into the slot, asking question after question.

I can’t begin to guess how many times I’ve seen this episode and I never grow tired of it.

It’s fascinating watch Shatner’s decent into near madness as he hands over the reins over his life to a machine.

The episode is a warning about giving into fear and irrational beliefs, and it reminds me of a time when, as a teen-ager, I created my own superstition.

Read All About It

I was working part-time at an office in 666 Fifth Avenue (notice that address?) and most afternoons I’d stop by a local newsstand to pick up a paper.

Now the paper at the top of the stack is usually pretty haggard.

It’s been marked by the bands holding the stack together; people will browse through it, and, if the newsstand is outdoors, that top paper usually bears the brunt of all the rotten weather.

As a result, I made a point and taking the second newspaper in the stack.

Why I was so choosy about something I would be tossing away in less than 24 hours I don’t know, but I insisted on having a pristine copy.

The idea was based on logic, but then at some point it veered off into that fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man.

I began telling myself that taking the top newspaper was bad luck.

Nobody told me this. I didn’t get it out of a fortune cookie, and I know my old Italian grandmother never said anything like that—and there was a lady who had a whole litany of superstitions.

I pulled just this one out of thin air. I believe that it might have started off as a little joke I told myself, but I wound up believing my own myth.

I suppose superstitions are an attempt to establish rules for the chaos of life.

When you say breaking a mirror will cause seven years of bad luck, the underlying message is that you’ll be safe as long as you don’t break the looking glass—or so you hope.

The problem with this thinking is that you can start making choices based on fear.

Your superstitions will become limiting beliefs and pretty soon you’ll be taking your marching orders from penny fortune-telling machines.

William Shatner’s character eventually realizes the insanity of his actions and he and his wife leave the diner determined to create their own future.

But when they leave another couple quickly takes their place in the booth and they start ramming coins into the machine, desperate to find out when they should leave town. It’s a very chilling image.

My homemade superstition did not alter my life in any way, and it eventually faded. I get my newspaper delivered now, pretty much eliminating the need to buy a copy.

And I’m going to do everything I can to keep irrational fears from controlling my life.

Knock wood.