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Beauty Of Horoscope- Not Passe Still

If you have any drive toward obsessively checking your horoscope every day, you will appreciate the following weekday and then this Sunday’s horoscopes for Leo from Minerva, in the SF Gate.com and SF Chronicle:

WEEKDAY ASTROLOGY CHART/HOROSCOPE:
LEO July 22-August 21 - Gaining entrée is one thing. Making the most of it is something else. It's time to switch from exchanging pleasantries to serious business.

WEEKLY ASTROLOGY CHART/HOROSCOPE:
LEO (July 22-August 21) - Tuesday's full moon — coming now just as Mercury, Neptune and sun sweep through your hormone house — has moment of truth written all over it. Full moons — particularly eclipsed ones — are all about culmination. This one effects [sic] your wallet — both personal funds and those shared by others. Now, this could be a good thing — like a sudden windfall. On the other hand ….

I offer you the above examples as contest against those who don’t believe in the auspices of the astrology chart, against those who say the astrology chart and its accompanying tools are nothing more than hogwash for shamans and charlatans pushing a pseudo science, in response to those who use the cliché attack that those horoscopes in he paper are too general and could apply to anybody.

I did switch from exchanging pleasantries that day, and I did get a windfall.

In the past, too, my horoscopes (especially those from Minerva) have been so dead-on I have gotten chills:  for example, Sunday Leo horoscope a few years ago said I would see a stranger cross a crowded room. (And the hackneyed was not lost on Minerva, either, so bear with me.)  He would have initials the reverse of mine.

One night that week in December, at the prompting of charismatic (convincing) roommate, I went to a nightclub to show support for a mutual friend in a local (and promising) band.  I don’t do the club scene much, so I brought along a notebook and was writing, occasionally stopping to be attentive to the band or to look up at the dancers, minglers, and guys.  Many were attractive, some were handsome and hot as hell, but none jingled a jangle or whatever.

At one point I felt someone staring.  I looked up, and across the room, almost ducking his head around the blur of dancers to keep a bead on me, was a gorgeous Rastafarian all in baby blues.  He and I could NOT stop staring into one another’s eyes.  It was almost unnerving, as I had come with no interest whatsoever in hooking up with anyone (having just left a great relationship going nowhere, etc., etc.).  But he approached, we connected (on a number of levels and in a number of ways), shared comments about the band, and eventually made a date.  Here’s the clincher: he turned out to be a trombonist for a world-famous band, in town for a few days, but he spent most of the rest of that time with me.  His initials are M.R..  Mine are R.M..

Say what you will, but I will follow that astrology chart and believe in the destiny it affords…all the way to extremes just short of free will.  For along with free will as impetus, it makes sense that the astrology chart, ancient and sagacious and often right, is what reminds me that besides business and work and responsibilities there is magic that supersedes coincidence.  M.R. agrees with me.  He’s a Leo, too.