<off topic> <sorta>
Reminds me of this old shaggy dog story...
After his father passed away, a young man's mother sat him down at the dining room table. "Son," she says, "now that your father has passed on, as the eldest son, you have to be the caretaker of the Family Bullet." She slides a finely-crafted little mahogony box across the table at him.
He opens it, and inside, resting on a blue velvet cushion, is a .30-40 Krag cartridge in perfect condition.
"Your grandfather fought in the Spanish-American War with Teddy Roosevelt and one day found himself surrounded by the enemy. He fought a valiant battle to survive, and with his next-to-the-last bullet, he finally eliminated all of the attacking enemy squad."
She paused, letting that sink in to the young man's mind, then went on, "He kept that last bullet as a lucky charm and it has been in the family since then and brought so much good luck to us..."
She then lowered her voice, and sniffing slightly, she said, "Since you are the oldest of your brothers, you are now charged with the awesome responsibility to keep and care for the Family Bullet. Keep it with you always and good luck will stay with you and our family forever."
The young man, suitably impressed, kept that Family Bullet with him in the breast pocket of his suit jacket, and as time and his good fortune continued through the years, he always kept in mind the "good luck" story of his great-grandfather fighting against impossible odds in the Spanish American War, and he'd pat the bullet in his breast pocket in appreciation.
After many years and many promotions in his job, the man finally became the highly-paid manager of his company's office in New York City.
One day, going out for lunch from his high-paying job, he was walking by the Hilton hotel when suddenly someone across the street started yelling and pointing upward. The now-middle-aged man looked up and saw a deranged person on the 12th floor leaning out the window above him yelling and screaming and waving his arms.
Suddenly, without warning, the guy hurled the hotel's Gideon Bible down toward the street with great force.
With no time to react, the Bible struck him directly in the chest!
And if it hadn't been for the Family Bullet in his breast pocket, that Bible would have gone right through to his heart and killed him.
<back to topic> <sorta>
Terry, 230RN