Virgo 12° (September 3)


Today is Tuesday and I’ll be damned if I remember what is supposed to happen this day. There is a lot of fundraising going on and I need to circle back to the Sparklers next and start getting them in. And getting the party into place. And getting the comp list into place. And all that jazz! Who is going to come and see me anyway. Nobody probably. I hope these stories coming out this week do something. I need to get a paper I just remembered I will run out and get one after we eat lunch.

In the social heirarchy of my highschool there were various levels of popularity, and as I said I was the lowest of the low, among the pariahs. At the very top were the beyond crowd, a small, elite, sophisticated crew including a soccer player who made varsity his freshman year whose French father was the chef at LeCirque, and the cheerleading captain whose family owned a cycle shop and lived with a single mother in a mid-century modern house like in that film the Ice Storm. At the core, there were three girls, all of whom had straight blond hair, and three boys who were swarthy, brooding and intense. And then a half a dozen characters, mainly loners or type-A academics, who floated in and out. And then there were the four hundred and fifty everybody in between on various scales of popularity. It’s those people you have to watch out for. That’s where the bullies and tormentors lay. Somewhere in that samey samey sea of docksiders, Lacoste shirts, grosgrain, teabury pink and kelly green, red-faced, sweaty Bruce Springsteen fans, which, if you actually grew up in New Jersey, made you very ordinary indeed.

So one morning I got one of my flashes only this time it was of me; and I decided to act on it. This was my flash and this is what I did. I was in the cafeteria, sitting by myself as usual, and I crossed the entire room, walking through that preppy snarling sea, and up to the table where these creme de la creme kids were sitting and I said hi and sat right down and, as if I had been there every day since, they said hi and started chatting and asking questions about classes we had in common and what I thought of this or that and, like in my flash, I remained cool and unflustered and just answered and quipped and I never sat alone again. And what I realized with, just like when you’re at the very bottom of the social food chain it’s basically the same as being at the very top. At the bottom you’re not included and at the top you aren’t either. Only here the choice is yours. It’s not up to the hundreds of insecure middledwellers jockeying for position. This whole notion of this circle of friends being elites was an invention of those in betweeners just as they invented the category of pariah I had previously been relegated to.

The alchemy had changed in an instant. I had changed it. Or these psychic flashes did. But that was me anyway, right? Okay maybe it was some kind of outside source or higher power intervening but as I’ve come to learn that is also me. I don’t believe in A higher power necessarily I believe in MY higher power. Anyway it literally worked like a charm. And those Mr. InBetweens who had previously attacked and tormented me were suddenly silenced. I could almost see them biting their tongues as they passed me in the halls now because they couldn’t bring themselves to insult one of the elite crowd since it was their own invention. Meanwhile, I had known these new friends for years I just never spoke with them before, a fact of which they were blissfully unaware.

We had dinner parties and listened to vintage music, the Doors, Buffalo Springfield, Jefferson Starship and CSNY, not typically together, but on lesser known solo and duet records. We took the train to New York to see matinees of Equus, Deathtrap and Bent. Everyone was kind and had a moral compass. There was light sexual experimentation of varying kinds. And the boys smoked pot and went camping and took mushrooms or mescaline and laughed till our faces ached. But I was in with some classy people and it wasn’t determined by money or membership at the country club. It was based on books and food and culture and travel, even though these people were athletes they weren’t jocks. Everyone went off to a good college and stayed loosely in touch and I had a model for the kind of tribe I would seek to find as an adult. I wanted to be around kind people. The word kind has that double meaning. And what I’ve learned is that people who are reallly at the top of their game tend to be the kindest people and they use their influence to help other people. Those with trumped up ideas of themselves are forever those middling insecure types, the bully cowards, who hoard and lie and cheat and steal, things that only entail their lower reptilian minds.


To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.


Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
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