The Lucky Poop Myth

After more than three years of Tai Chi practice in Victoria Park, home of the wandering elderly, Indonesian girls wearing oversized pants, roving bands of Jesus-singing Filipinas (complete with guitars and tambourines), and the occasional vagrant rummaging through trash barrels, the inevitable happened.

A pigeon scored a direct hit on the nape of my neck from a branch high overhead.

Some folks will say a bird pooping on you is a sign of good luck. How having a lukewarm glob of pigeon waste land on one's person is lucky is beyond me. I counted myself lucky that I had a pack of wet-naps in my back pack.

When I mentioned the event to Si Fu, the first words out of his mouth were "Mark Six!", which is Hong Kong's bi-weekly lottery; the pot was up to HK$45 million. I had no idea the lucky poop myth was cross-cultural. Regardless, I dismissed buying a ticket.

The first person who claimed good fortune via flying crap did so to save face. Were it true and luck was certain, Hong Kong's innumerable punters would be found loitering under every tree in the territory.

Later, a pigeon landed near our training area and began strutting about. It was all I could do not to rush over and give it a good kick.

Sure, it wouldn't have been the bird that did the deed, but it would have given me eminent satisfaction.

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