Sept. 3, 2013 — During my favorite interview with Rolling Stone’s guitarist Keith Richard, a journalist asked him why he didn’t join the entourage that included the Beatles, the rest of the Stones, the Beach Boys, Donovan and all the other entertainment royalty who skipped off to study transcendental meditation with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi at his ashram at the foot of the Himalayas in 1968.
I know it’s hard to believe, but somehow, somewhere behind those glazed eyes and nicotine-stained eyebrows a coherent response quickly formed, and Richard simply said with a wrinkled grin, “Hey, I draw the line at maharishis.”
I know how he feels. Over the years I’ve explored many varieties of soothsaying and encountered a number of kooky and not-so-kooky sooths. As a rule I don’t put much faith in future trippers’ predictions.
Here’s an example. A client who was really into numerology wandered into my graphic design business one day. He hired me to create a business card, letterhead, envelope package for a new concert promotion business he was starting, and I thought it was going to be a simple job. Jeez, was I wrong.
Each individual element (company name, address, phone number, etc.) had to total the correct number and then all these numbers combined had to add up to a numerical value that bore the proper relationship to his life path number. After changes upon changes upon changes to what should have been a simple and inexpensive job, I finally told him he didn’t owe me anything for the work I’d already done, but I wasn’t doing any more. I asked him to please go away and not return.
Unfortunately workers at the post office and the phone company did not enjoy that luxury, and they had to endure his never-ending requests for new and better numbers. Sadly, his first promotion — a concert featuring aging reggae star Jimmy Cliff — bombed and burned, even though all the numbers were perfect. My former client just didn’t understand.
Back in my guitar playing days a young lady who said she was really into astrology thought we might be compatible, so she asked me my sign. I refused to answer and told her to guess.
Sure enough, she plopped down on a barstool and glared at me while I played a couple of numbers and then stood up and said, “another *#%4ing Taurus!” She was right!
I even studied tarot cards for a few months until I started seeing images from them everywhere I looked. My teacher told me that was the idea, but it was really bugging me, so I quit. I must say a friend once did an amazingly accurate tarot card reading that still boggles my mind for its accuracy to this day.
For a while every morning I cast the I Ching upon rising, but after a while advice such as “Ominous roiling in the Crater Lake atop the volcano,” or “Beneath the soil, the seedling pushes upward toward the light,” kind of lost its grip on me.
Now the Farmer’s Almanac, a very accurate book according to some folks, is predicting a cold and wet winter.
Wow, we sure could use some water, but I’d like to pass on the super cold — especially after the way the deer were dying in my yard from starvation during last winter’s long chill.
So readers beware — if you believe in such things — a cold and wet one may be upon us.
OK. Let’s talk about this again next spring after we know how the almanac’s prediction turned out.
|< Prev||Next >|