I often catch myself wondering about the storms that affect our everyday…a worrisome trait picked up from the mother figure or a simple sliver of a typical Cancer living up to the sign given to him at birth. It’s completely Cancer to wander down invisible paths listening to the winds of constant change then broadcast it to oncoming other signs not so in touch with their boundaries.
Guess that’s why Cancer’s are extremely loyal to creative flow…weather forecasts don’t always feature clean shaven pocket protector wearing tornado chasers. Cancer’s tend to predict through music, paint or words tossed onto a paper page or computer screen.
Outside a Cancer’s brick walls with no windows persona, I’ve never been a fan of natures way of vacuuming the forest floor, summertime afternoons that quickly become windy, lightning streaked followed by earth shaking thunder puts me right back in my childhood where I’d slap on a pair of cheap Kmart brand earphones and crank up John Denver singing Rocky Mountain High.
In the book of Arroe, all storms, self created or weather delivered send my senses toward the door that reads: Gotta go now!
Which is pretty odd because the Montanan in me loves to spur up a good argument.
Maybe it’s because I was born on June 28th…just seven days deep into this Cancer thing. Maybe I’m more of a Gemini. Oh great…a few days shy of turning 48 and my heart elects to switch gates. My Alive day is July 21st which is still a Cancer but only by two days. What if last summers sickness turned me into a Leo?
Can I be all three? Somebody get George Clooney and Mark Wahlberg on the phone, this sounds like the birth of a perfect storm.
What if I am a Leo? Love triumphs over all for this sign, which is ruled by the heart and operates from this dimension too. Leo's are born fortunate. Charismatic and positive-thinking they attract not only an abundance of friends and opportunities, but manage to survive life's stormy times with style and good humor.
Gemini…In ancient Greek mythology, Gemini's ruler - Mercury, was the light-footed messenger of the gods who darted back and forth across the heavens delivering news - which might explain why those born under the sign of the 'Twins' are always on the move; thirsty for knowledge and new experiences. Terminally curious and sometimes even mischievous, Geminis are multi-faceted souls who enjoy knowing a little bit of everything but generally not too much about one particular subject. It's just that variety is the spice of their lives!
Cancer…Compassionate and caring with friends, family and lovers, yet they can cut to the bone with their jealous remarks and ever-changing moods. Endearingly eccentric on one hand, and on the other, insecure about how others see them. Like their astrological symbol - the Crab - Cancers can appear hard and insensitive on the outside. However, for those of us who know and love a "Moon Child", we understand that deep below lies a softness and sensitivity that makes them so very special...
Oh my God! I’m all three! My right side isn’t listening to the left side and forget about what the feet are worried about! No wonder I love the sounds of Buck Owens and Montgomery Gentry followed by Usher and Nelly combined with Jazz mixed in with Native American drums and chants. My built in computer system is connected to three different hard drives.
To know the real me requires several different email addresses and web pages with twenty two different heavy duty rule books published daily on how to talk to each personality introduced at the drop of a hat.
And that’s how storms are created.
If you think you’re anything different give me another ten minutes to poetically speak to the people you’re hiding behind those set of ears, nose hairs and boogers. Chances are your invisible self would be illegal under the new laws governing the state of Arizona.
What if the government passed a law that stated: All Cancer’s must act like this…anything outside that description is looked upon as being an illegal alien.
And now you know why people don’t have dinner with me. I can turn camp talk into a sci-fi discussion leading the tips of your imagination into a world of, “Holy ka-booty what the heck if?”
If I was Native American my name would be Stormy Cloud Maker or Too Much Trouble For Elder’s Hands.
I often catch myself wondering about the storms that affect our everyday…how many of them do we create only to blame them on someone else?
arroecollins@clearchannel.com
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