Astrology Rocks, If You’re a Scorpio

By Bob Wire, 10-23-09

Up to now, here’s how I handled my daily horoscope: read all 12 capsules in the paper, decide which one I like best, and go with it. Sometimes these things are as unrealistic as hopes for an honest election in Afghanistan, but other times they’re right on the money. Being a Scorpio, I’m naturally skeptical of the whole concept anyway.

Astrology can be fun, especially at Kent Bros’ beer-thirty gathering when Scott Adler reads it aloud to everyone, out of the back of the Independent. Occasionally I’ll accompany him on the bongos, just for some dramatic punctuation, and his readings are so hilarious that people have been known to shoot beer out of their Gauquelin sectors. At a recent gathering, I mentioned to a friend that I’d be turning fifty in a few weeks, and she told me I should get my birth chart done by an astrologist. I had been thinking more along the lines of a colonoscopy and a prostate exam, but the birth chart sounded more fun, and less rectally invasive. Well, I assumed so; I didn’t know what the process involved.

So I contacted Moon Cat, a celebrated astrologist who runs Cat Over the Moon Astrology in Missoula. I’d heard her late-night show on KBGA, and she sounded pretty fun, pretty interesting. And just a little wacky, which sealed the deal. She agreed to do my birth chart in exchange for a set of the collected masterworks of Bob Wire on CD, and we set a time.

I arrived for my session at Moon Cat’s funky studio overlooking the Clark Fork River. I looked around the apartment, and I was mentally transported back to my bohemian days in Seattle, living the Kerouac beatnik dream while exploring the various ways to circumvent society. I was dazzled by all of the counterculture tchotchkes and various decorative touches, and decided that this lady knows how to enjoy life. The hippie ideal was manifested in this glorious, free-spirited crib.

After a bit of small talk, we got right down to business. “Okay,” said Moon Cat, peering at me through rose-colored, cat-eye specs. “Let’s get started.” She pulled out a sheet that was littered with numbers, symbols, arcane notations, and mysterious scribbles. It was all laid out in various colors on a 12-segmented circle. It looked like a Martian wall clock.

“This is your Male Birth Chart,” Moon Cat said.

“Thanks for noticing,” I said. “So, what’s this symbol here? Does this mean my moon is in Uranus?” I laughed.

She peered at me over the top of her cat-eye glasses, like a Catholic school nun regarding a student who’d just made a dead squirrel into a hand puppet. “No, what this means is that you went through a major retrograde this summer. Three planets lined up in Aquarius: Jupiter, Neptune and Chiron. Major Karmic implications! What heals you is your ability to not be afraid, and be open-ended. But you’re also being challenged by that.”

Hmm. Generally the only thing I’m afraid of is being caught. But I went with it. “What planet rules my sign?”

“Well, you have Chiron in your house…”

“Woop woop! Chiron’s in the hizzy!” I said, pushing my palms toward the ceiling.

“But your sign is ruled by Pluto,” she went on. Great. The planet that has been demoted to a rock. This didn’t bode well. “You’re a major Scorpio,” she said, “but you have two planets in Sagittarius, which softens it up.” I asked her what traits a “major Scorpio” might exhibit. Inappropriate obsessions? Resistance to making the bed? A thirst for martinis? “There are many pathways to the truth,” she intoned, somewhat mysteriously. “You’re curious about philosophies and finding the truth.”

“Is this the part where I try to snatch the pebbles from your hand?” I asked.

“Your sun sign is also Scorpio, which means you have the intensity of a volcano,” she said.

“Oh, I do, believe you me. Especially on Taco Tuesday.”

She also said I have some Leo rattling around in there, and that means my life is about affecting others. “Your strength is your ability to perform and act out. That an allow you to have a great affect on the public.”

“Really? Then why have I sold less than 200 copies of ‘Buffaload’?”

“You’re a multi-tasker,” she continued, peering at the Martian clock, “and you use technology in your creativity. You’re prone to addiction. You tend to dig Thanksgiving, but this year Venus will be banging at the front door!”

“Well, that will be quite a trick, since she has no arms,” I pointed out.

“No, the planet. Before Thanksgiving you’ll undergo some kind of reemergence. Saturn also will be going into the house of Aquarius at that time.”

“Well, good. Our house is not that big. What about the important stuff, like sex? When is my house of Aquarius gonna be a-rockin’, so don’t bother knockin’?”

“Well, let’s see…your moon makes you a warrior, even more than the typical Scorpio.”

“So I’ll be arguing about sex?”

“Venus is in Libra, so you do have a lust for the ladies,” she said with a dainty giggle. That, my friends, is like saying molten lava is “warm to the touch.” I had done a little research.

Sexuality is everything to the Scorpio, even more than video games. Sex can become an obsession to Scorpios who have too much Pluto and not enough Capricorn, so I’ll have to keep an eye on that. Scorpios are the most passionate and intense of the signs, and they are reputed to have the strongest sexual drive. This is frequently channeled into their career, their art, their music, or possibly auto repair. Scorpio is the 8th house of the Zodiac, the one that is least understood because it has no windows.

As for my own sexual agenda, Moon Cat seemed unwilling to go into any detail about when and where I’d be sinking the Titanic, so she wrapped things up. “When the moon crosses into your 10th house next May, you’ll start to get things done. Follow your truth.”

She fixed her pale eyeballs on me through the pink lenses of her glasses, and absently fingered the huge shark’s tooth dangling from her necklace. “Till then, you’ll be galloping around like a centaur.”

“Well, giddyup!”

[Bookmark NewWest.net/BobWire. This column has proved to be eerily accurate when it comes to predicting what will make you laugh. Pass it on.]

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