Buying into weird myths and holistic mumbo jumbo really isn’t my thing.  I do think they’re entertaining and it’s fun to let your mind want to believe in them.  However, buying a bunch of crystals and making all decisions based on tarot card readings and coin flips, to me, is a one way ticket to the loony bin.

Isn’t that right, Two Face?

There is a part of me that wants these things to be true – the paranormal, astrology, phrenology, mysticism, trigonometry, Bruce Jenner — but when the logic in my mind takes over, I just can’t buy into it.  It would be like believing that Tom Cruise is not crazy.  Sure would be nice if he wasn’t, but the facts say otherwise.

Yes, Tom, you have five fingers. Very good.

However, for the longest time, I’ve been fighting a prediction that was made through on of these psudo-scientific methods.  I try to discount what was said, but every now and then, something happens and I can’t not think about it.

Back when I was living in New York, I attended the New York Film Academy.  My classmates were from all over the world.  It was a melting pot of wanna be filmmakers spanning the globe: Spain, France, UK, Japan, Italy, upstate New York . . . EVERYWHERE.  One of the Brits was this Indian kid named Robin.  At a bar after class, Robin decided it was prudent to give everyone palm readings.  You know, the extremely scientific method of determining a person’s fate by looking at their palm.  I think the New England Journal of Medicine has verified that it’s totally valid.

Yes, Tom Cruise, you still have 5 fingers.

He asked me if I wanted my palm read — granted we had been drinking, but like a giddy school girl at a slumber party with  board, I caved . . . or I cried.  Matter what kind of slumber party.  When Robin looked at my hand, he told me something to the effect of, “You’ll never be really famous.  Only famous within a small group of people.”

……

All logic and comon sense says BULLSHIT.  How can anyone get that from my beautiful, well manicured hands?  Huh?  I look at the lines on my hand and think, “Yeah, I could grip a small basketball.”  Do I see how my career is going to play out?  No.

That and I’m married.

And yet, that stupid palm reading has been a thorn in my side for years.  Whenever I look at where I’m at in my career, I can’t help but think Robin may have been on to something.  I don;t think I’m not successful, but I’m always grasping for the next level in my career.  I’m not looking for fame, but to me, his reading meant I’ll never really attain the goals I’ve set for myself.

Then I start thinking about how maybe this is a self fulfilling prophesy; that I’m letting this prediction get the best of me.  In the end, I know I have control over my own destiny, and I should never let a psudo-science like palm ready affect me.  And in all honesty, it’s never been that bad.  It’s more like a little ping in the back of my head.

So, I go on and fight the good fight, work the hard day and create a path that only I can see . . . not some palm reader.  I’m a late bloomer.  It’s why I am where I’m at today and not 10 years ago.  Fucking palm readers.