Prime Numbers

As you may know, I'm kind of a numbers freak.  An odd thing, given that I went into qualitative research for a reason.  But when presented with a number, I'll try to make some mathematical or social pattern out of it.  For instance, when I'm stuck in traffic, I'll often play a game with license plate numbers around me.  For instance, 46T W29.  T is 20 and W is 23, so that's 43, plus 10 (4+6) is 53, plus 11 (2+9) is 64.  Not divisible by 3, sorry, you lose.

Numbers have social connections.  57 is 19x3, but it's also the varieties of Heinz products.  21 is 7x3, but it's also the legal age of full adulthood, and a winning blackjack hand. 

This year, I turn 53, a number which is both mathematically and socially prime, carrying no other connections.  It doesn't divide by any other whole number, and it doesn't have an immediate social metaphor.  It's not one of those round zero numbers that marks the beginning of a decade and sets off existential crises.  It doesn't qualify me for Federal benefits or grocery store discounts or reduced-price movie tickets.  It's more than the number of states in the Union and fewer than the number of nations in the UN.  There is no famous Highway 53.

All non-prime numbers can be described as a rectangle.  For instance, if you used a dot for each number, the number 48 would be a rectangle six dots tall and eight dots wide; 124 would be 4 dots tall and 31 dots wide.  But prime numbers like 53 are lumpy; they don't fit a predictable shape.

I never thought I'd be 53.  I don't mean that in a morbid, rock-star way like I never thought I'd live this long.  I just mean that I don't have a story in my head for what it means to be 53.  Nobody says, "Well, now that you're 53, we expect that you can ____." 

It's a narrative-free number.  It can be whatever I make it.