The number 27 tends to keep popping up in my life, often presenting itself at significant and memorable moments. Don’t get me wrong, I do not read any meaning into this. Fate, destiny and luck are not things in which I believe. I simply notice this number more than others when, by pure random chance, it appears. So I have latched on to the number 27 over time, inadvertently adopting it as my number. Not my ‘lucky’ number, just my number of choice.
The first house I moved into as an ‘adult’ was number 27. When I buy a football shirt or ice hockey jersey, I always (when the option is available) put number 27 on the back. I have a ’27 Club’ tattoo, in tribute to the amazingly talented musicians (Brian Jones, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain and Amy Winehouse) who tragically died at this young age. When I make lists of favourites (films, songs etc.) it is always a ‘Top 27’ list. And of course, as you know, I use 27 in my online username(s). It’s not a big deal, just a habit, a quirk I have come to enjoy.