Every once in a while, a piece of information falls into your lap that answers so many questions, such as why I’ve always felt a little bit psychotic, sort of like that lady in “The Three Faces of Eve,” except with one less face. And that same information explains why so many of you are wobbly dreidels as well.
I grew up in an age where one of the first questions people asked was, “What’s your sign?”— and I was always a little smug when I told themIwas anAries. But with that designation came certain expectations. Aries, after all, was the god of war, so people born under his sign are pugnacious. But they’re also curious, creative, easily bored, confident and opinionated. If they’re on the cusp of Taurus, as I was, therewas also a possibility you could give in to your dark side.
I tried mightily to live up to my sign, but I was always conflicted. I never felt particularly Taurus-like, although I did often feel patient, and perceptive, imaginative, and drawn to the fields of art, like writing and music. But because those are definitely anti-Aries traits, I tried to downplay them with bluster and would only admit to them in the company of friends.
For example, my master’s thesis in college was about Jacobean City Comedy and poets of the era like Ben Jonson and John Donne. I’ve never admitted that in print before, because a columnist whose favorite poem is “The Bait” by Donne (Come live with me, and be my love/And we will some new pleasures prove …) just doesn’t have the gravitas to be taken seriously when he’s writing about things like taxes and the perfidy of corrupt politicians.
Come on, admit it. You know it’s true. But I can finally come clean, because it turns out I don’t have multiple personality disorder after all. Fact is, I’ve simply been denying my true nature, since I’ve actually been a Pisces for a good long while.
Last week, the horiscopical (my word) community was in an uproar after the Star Tribune inMinneapolis reported that because the earth is wobbling on its axis (they had to change signs at airports because true magnetic north has shifted), the old dates for star signs aren’t accurate anymore, and haven’t been for quite a while. Under the more accurate dates, almost nobody is who they thought they were, especially the people under the new star sign they added, Ophiuchus (The Snake Holder, Nov. 29-Dec. 17). Not only do those poor people have a sign that is almost impossible to pronounce (off-ih-you-kuss), there’s no information about the traits that go along with it, except, as The NewYork Times noted, it appears to be the sign of holiday shoppers.
I doubt that one will be much help in social situations.
“Hello,” she says, batting her eyes. “What’s your sign, handsome?”
“Ophiuchus,” he says, but since he’s a little slurry from the beer, it comes out sounding like a very forward proposition (Offer you a kiss?) or perhaps even off-color suggestion (use your imagination).
Thwack!
I don’t have to worry about that, because the new designations put me under the control of Pisces (March 11-April 18) and on the cusp ofAries (April 18-May 23) so I can own up to my sensitive side while keeping some of my more militant Aries attributes.
No more “Three Faces of Eve,” because I’m cured!
The new dates also explain certain longstanding marital issues, which I can’t talk about here. Suffice it to say that my wife always
thought she was a
Gemini (new dates
June 21-July 20), but she has in fact been a Taurus (new dates May 13-June 21). Enough said about that.
In case you’re wondering, the new dates for the rest of you are: Aquarius, Feb. 16-March 11; Cancer, July 20-Aug. 10; Leo, Aug. 10- Sept. 16; Virgo, Sept. 16-Oct. 30; Libra, Oct. 30-Nov. 23; Scorpio, Nov. 23-Nov. 29 (no idea why this one is so short); Sagittarius, Dec. 17- Jan. 20 and Capricorn, Jan. 20-Feb. 16.
I’m no expert, so I’m afraid you’re going to have towork outwhat this means to you personally without my help. In my case, it means I can be nicer without having to feeling slightly mentally unbalanced at the same time.
We Pisces are nothing but nice. It’s our very nature.
Speaking of being nice, it looks like President Obama’s recent call for more civil discourse is being heeded, at least for the time being. There’s been a definite reduction in the national vitriol since he made that speech, and even most of his harshest critics on the right (not Rush Limbaugh, of course) admitted it was a masterful oration. There’s a lot of talk about compromise, and working together, which you just didn’t hear much in the last few years.
Time will tell if this new era of collegiality sticks, but I think the real test will be whether it sticks in Monmouth County, the absolute epicenter of uncivil discourse.
So far, many signs are encouraging. For example, my friend Art Gallagher over at More Monmouth Musings (of whom I’ve often been critical) had a very cogent post about the president’s speech, and followed it up with a wellreasoned and rational post about why things may not be as bad as they seem when considered in a historical perspective. And even lots (not all) of the other writers who foam at the pen on some of the other blog sites seem to have dialed it back a few notches.
Naturally, the notion of being rational and pleasant is so alien in Manalapan that civil discourse may never be a reality there. Judging by what’s been said on the Web in the last week or so, the nearly incoherent ranting about politics in that community has gone on without missing a beat.
I don’t think the words of any president, Republican or Democrat, will ever change the tenor of debate in Manalapan. Changing that would take a miracle, right up there on the scale of difficulty with healing the sick and raising the dead.
Gregory Bean is the former executive editor of Greater Media Newspapers. You can reach him at [email protected].