Heading into the election this November, John McCain is carrying a lot of baggage — and not just lingering chatter about his health concerns or campaign finance frustrations. Somewhere out on that interminable campaign trail, the surge-supporting senator from Arizona is lugging around a pocket-bulging stockpile of lucky charms and a fairly authoritative anthology of superstitions. Where to begin? He often carries a lucky penny he picked up in New Hampshire when he won that state way back in 2000 — before Bush turned his luck sour. Then there is the prized nickel he found before he won South Carolina, finally, this past January. And don't expect to catch him without his beloved bicentennial drummer boy quarter. (The official dime job is still vacant; only face-up coinage need apply.) Also lurking, lint covered, in the vast recesses of the candidate's suit are a feather, a compass, and a laminated four-leaf clover from a Celtic pride–filled supporter this past St. Patrick's Day. Tack on his refusal of hand-to-hand saltshaker transfers and anxiety about tossing hats onto beds, among other tendencies, and America's favorite maverick, should he jingle his way into the White House, may need to create a cabinet position — secretary of juju, or some such — to make sure all rules are acknowledged and all amulets present and accounted for.





