Taurus 14° (May 4)

 

Of all the cosmic things that can, would or do happen, yesterday likely proviced the most cosmic of occurances to date in the present writing of this Blague (there have been some freaky experiences from the past that I’ve recalled here as well). The day started out innocently enough. We had gone to L’Artusi for a late anniversary celebration on Thursday evening so we were slow to emerge yesterday but decided that we would stick together and tackle chores and hit marks together. First off, I must say, that the two topics I brought up en route here on the train the other day were: Nicky and Sean from Tea & Sympathy; and my lamenting about Pastis and wondering what happened to it. So last things first: Stella informs me that Pastis is actually reopening early May (hello, when is it now) on Gansevoort Street, literally around the corner as we are on Washington between Gansevoort and Horatio. So we walked by there en route to the bank yesterday morning and saw they are nearly (but not quite) open. Fine. We also spotted a place to grab some lunch salads later. We headed to the bank to send a wire transfer to the UK, then strolled onto Thirteenth Street to see if those criminals were there. They were. I peeked into the shop which wasn’t yet open. We decided as we headed down Greenwich Avenue to send them good wishes despite the pain they once caused us. As we strolled by Tea & Sympathy I casually peered in as best I could against the glare slowing but not stopping; still I could see a figure with wooly hair crouch down and point to outstrecthed arms and index fingers at us with a twisted expression that just screamed: Oy!

Out rushed Nicky whom we likely haven’t seen in a decade in the flesh. And it was as if not a moment had passed in all these years since we were a regular fixture on the block and in the shop. She quickly caught us up on the news of which I’ve had some inkling—about maybe having to close shop due to the greedy owner of the building, well, buildings, plural that make up that side of Greenwich Avenue from Twelfth to Thirteenth. It was a vivid lament as is warranted. We bemoaned the loss of the culture in which we lived in this neighborhood dating back to the late eighties and all through the nineties well into the aughts. And then the conversation swung the complete other way with Nicky rattling off jokes just as she always did back in the day. Then Sean appeared and Nicky exited and he told us all about their house up state and showed us pictures. We said we had to go. And he countered before you do have you heard…I said I think we have and listed the punchlines Nicky had just delivered. Oh, right, he said but I’ve got some more. The jokes were all incredibly funny. We then went our merry way down to our favorite wine shop on Washington south of Morton. In and out. Then back up Washington to the flat when all of a sudden the thing happened…..

We were going to be meeting our designer and so we were need to crack a conundrum in the creative process, an impasse to which we were coming time and again, hopefully before seeing her. The operative word was star, in that we were discussing how to employ the shape vis a vis our own logo which is also something of a star, or what we call the aster. Anyway I don’t want to give anything away. All you need to know is we were conversationally on the star…when…up the street as we were walking we saw what appeared to be a white balloon in the shape of a five-pointed star hovering in the air in the middle of the street, such that I thought it must be attached with a string to a car or a street sign; but it started to float up and fly around and we suddenly realized it wasn’t a balloon at all. As we approached in descended and pretty much landed out our feet. We stared at it, just a foot away, but still couldn’t make out what it was or of what it was made. I reached out to touch it and realized it was foam, bubbles, like that which would have escaped from a washing machine overloaded with detergent. And then it lifted into the air again and flew past us hovering high above the middle of the street before flying past third, fourth floor windows and disappearing over a roof top. It was nothing short of weirdly miraculous. Thankfully S. took a video of the whole thing.

Our designer, A.,who is over from London, arrived and we chit-chatted and started in on the work at hand. And we said to her we have this miraculous thing we have to show you. And she said, “oh, did you have a Christian Dior moment?” And for some reason we just let that comment sail by like a star made of soap suds. I don’t know why we didn’t question what she exactly meant by that. So we worked and talked and got to the impasse we two had gotten to, catching her up in thought to that point, so we could tackle it together and unknot the problem so to make it into an opporunity, when we said. Okay, so, this is where we were in our conversation today walking on Washington Street so we broke out the video that S. took. And A. immediately said what is that white star? It was so obviously a star that even from far away, looking into a tiny iPhone screen, it was a perfect five-pointer. She was as astonished as we were. And then she said well really that was a Christian Dior moment. And we were finally like wait, what does that mean.

Apparently Christian Dior was deciding whether or not to start his own eponymous company and he was walking along the sidewalk when suddenly out of nowhere a brass or bronze star landed at his feet on the sidewalk, le trottoir. He took it as a sign that yes he should start his own eponymous collection and thus did. I will stop there.

 

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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