Stars in Your Dumpster: An Introduction to Strology

This might well turn out to be the zenith of my literary aspirations - literally!

The idea for this came to me when I was having one of those mornings when nothing that I needed was where I left it the day before. The little goblins of the night who constantly frolic around whilst I am in the arms of Morpheus are mischievous little critters and take a delight in rearranging everything. This brings into sharp focus the fact  that there are forces at work which we really cannot explain - including the significance of the day and time when we arrive on this planet.

It was relatively early in my childhood that I became aware of the 12th of March as being a very special day. It was an occasion for unbridled celebration. I would receive cards and gifts from members of my immediate family special treats like extra sugar on my Yorkshire pudding and a cake with lighted candles which I had to blow out after making a silent wish that Adolph Hitler would be attacked and eaten by his dog.

It was a day where I was placed center stage and could bask in the glory of being able to get away with whatever my favorite mischief happened to be at that time. The thought did cross my mind that since my long-suffering parents were the ones responsible for my existence and had so far managed to clothe and feed me, they should be the ones to reap whatever rewards were floating around, certainly not me, but it was my birthday, so who was I to turn down all the perks? Tomorrow it would be someone else's turn.

It further dawned on me that this went on for all three hundred and sixty five days of the year. It is always someone’s birthday. Sometimes several people at the same time. So Christmas comes everyday. Wow what a treat!

Renaissance Man

I have never considered myself as anything more than an itinerant artist. I paint; I write; I make music and I do my best to make a living selling the products which I produce.

But lately, on an increasing number of occasions, I have been dubbed with the epithet ‘Renaissance man’ 

I can’t say that I feel any different than I did before being given my new ‘handle’ but I thought I should at least embrace what seemed to me a rather over the top accolade.

I thought that the first thing that I should attend to was my clothing so I searched the various clothing shops for suitable apparel.

Getting Things Done

When I was a student at Art College it was decided that there would be an Art’s Ball held that year. It would be a charity event with all proceeds benefitting the local Hospital. Seemed like a worthy cause so myself and a few of my friends decided that we would contribute our time and energy to organize the event.

The board of governors, the College professors and directors of the Odeon ballroom held a plethora of meetings and discussions to formulate details. Days turned into weeks and nothing was done. We decided that the best thing would be to take matters into our own hands; time was getting short. 

Generally I discovered that the ‘powers that be’ are for the most part primarily concerned with making sure that nothing disturbs their inept routines or threatens their salaries and pensions. Demonstration of even a smidgen of enterprise could be misinterpreted and land them in hot water. After my best efforts to conform to the various regulations which seemed to multiply almost daily it became apparent that the Art’s ball would fall into the category of ‘A nice idea but impractical’.

I found my self frustrated and disillusioned but I still maintained that it was high time for the Arts Ball to bloom. It was, after all, for hospital charity. Why not plan an agenda that would put the whole affair on the social map?