Damn those Astrologists

Who can you trust?

The world as I know it is crumbling. All around me the bedrock foundations upon which I have built my existence low these many years is under attack. You would think that at my advanced age, I’d have learned to roll with the punches but Newton’s laws seem to have a hold on personal development just as tenacious as on physical bodies. Seventy years of inertia is hard to buck.

First I lost Pluto

First, I have to confess that I am still reeling at the revelation that Pluto is not a planet. I grew up with the comforting knowledge that our sun has nine planets. The revisionist notion that Pluto is too insignificant to belong to the club shook me to the core.I it is just like the school bullies when I was a kid, who mocked and threatened the class runt and made him cower near the teacher during recess. What happened to equal opportunity? Is size the only thing that matters? Maybe I should respond to that email.

And then there is Ophiuchus

But back to the Zodiac. Now the same anal retentive pedants who demoted Pluto have attacked Astrology. They tell us to make room for another constellation- Ophiuchus.  This hits harder and deeper at the core of my being because it undermines my very identity. I reached my adult life in the 60’s and learned that my life was a reflection of my Astrological sign. A big part of the dating game (or rutting dance, if you prefer) was to exchange Astrological signs. Instantly you knew if tonight was the night or to continue cruising. Fortunately for me those days are past.

Because of Astrology, I knew who I was; what I was capable of; and what not to try. I was a Virgo. I was a good manager of life (mostly other peoples lives), not emotive but very caring. I was the quiet sensitive guy taking it all in. Life was simple. Just read the label and Ralph was easy. Now, I learn that it was all a mistake. The stars have shifted possibly during the 60’s when we celebrated the Age of Aquarius. It seems the sneaky Babylonians demoted an important constellation arbitrarily because they disliked the number 13. The result of this revisionism is that today I learn that I am really a Leo. And I don’t have a clue who I am anymore.

I have been living a lie.

Trying to play catchup, I read that Leo’s are the center of attention, charming all with their wit and wisdom. Leo’s are suckers for flattery. They will do anything for attention and get quite angry when they don’t get it. Leo’s are the people I always hated for their shallow intellects and needy natures. How could I have gotten myself so wrong? And now what do I do about it?

So now what?

After being duped and mislead by incompetent Astrologists for all these years, it is hard to face the reality that I have been living a lie, stomping down my outgoing Leo nature to fit an introspective Virgo image. Who can tell how that handicapped my life or what I might have achieved had I know my true sign. But it’s all too late now. Too late to run for President or conquer cable TV. And it is all the fault of incompetent Astrologists and my naive belief and trust in authority figures. Let that be a lesson for you young whippersnappers out there. Don’t get suckered into thinking you are are a Virgo when, in fact, you are a Leo. Don’t screw up your entire life living the wrong astrological sign. Don’t let yourself in for a wasted life as a left foot in a right shoe like I have. Find out who you really are and go with the flow. And now that I know who I am, want to party?

Ralph

Ralph is the inspiration for Cantankerous Old Coots and is our Grand Duke of Cantankerousness

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