Mercury In Retrograde

Once in awhile, I take a look at my horoscope.
I call up the website and seek out the daily prognostication for those of the Cancer persuasion. I always have a furtive, guilty feeling as I'm reading it.
It's a reflexive action based on years of attendance at an Assembly of God church that viewed astrology on about the same level as the Church of God sect that handled snakes.

Most of the time, it's an exercise in futility, in many cases what I find is downright funny. The one reliable thing is that it is almost never accurate. Which in some cases, when the stars divine all sorts of wonderful things makes me mad. But on the other hand, when my fate is toward some sort of downfall, I can more easily dismiss it.

Just hokum...why do I even read this stuff?  And then, the other day came this semi-ominous warning about Mercury being in retrograde. I'll admit, my first thought was, does Ford still even make Mercury(ies)? And if so, how would it affect my life if they had to recall one? 

A little Google search later and I learned that in the world of astrology, the planet Mercury going into retrograde is a pretty big deal. In Seinfeld-lingo, it would be akin to New-mania...Apparently, 3-4 times a year when this phenomena occurs 'ol Mercury (once again, the planet) slows down, and appears to stop (station) and move backward (retrograde). It's an optical illusion, since there is forward movement, like speeding by a slow-moving train -- as it recedes, it appears to go backward.

No biggie right?  Well apparently when this happens, those who live their lives per the planets say that it causes all manner of weird things happening. Computers go on the fritz, traffic lights act up, phone lines go down, dogs start having kittens, cousins start marrying...ok, I made the last two up. Some diehards refuse to do anything when Mercury is in retrograde, sign contracts, get married, make plans, etc. And there is one sect out in the dark web, that suggests that for your own safety, you lay pretty low, and they mean it, going so far as to refuse even leaving their homes.

Reading this, I scoffed and snickered,

Pfft..."My horoscope is never right anyway!"

That was the night before my computer went down the first time. I say first because I am on the approximately 76th system restore of the week. My computer has chuntered and squeezed out more heat sink fan gibberish than Jar Jar Binks in the first 30 minutes of "The Phantom Menace".

Still don't believe me, take the colander incident. Now I have washed and polished the same spaghetti strainer for approximately 20 years. I thought it indestructible, an aluminum piece of art. I have poured boiling noodles that could have been lava from Mt. St Helens into this receptacle. It's taken more rides in the dishwasher than Michael Jackson at Neverland. Hell, it's outlived three of the last four dishwashers I've had. It's never had so much as a ding from the time I used it to clean a couple of rocks that I thought might be dinosaur fossils (they weren't). Or the time that I thought I might have found a rare penny and cooked up a little potion that the internet guaranteed would have the pennies shining like the day they left the mint and I used the strainer to sift and sieve the treated coins. Then Tuesday came and I was unloading the dishwasher as usual, outside the sun was shining and the birds were singing, and as I turned to stack glasses back in the upper cabinet, my hip grazed the colander from the hook on the wall where it lives and it fell to the floor.  I replaced it, it fell again, and again I replaced it and again it fell and again and again.

By this time, I was getting mad, my blood boiled and about the 5th time it fell, I did the unthinkable. In a fit of rage, I took that colander and bounced it halfway across the kitchen floor, thinking, 'it deserves this and nothing will ever happen, it's indestructible'. But then as it boomeranged back to land at my feet, I saw that my hitherto indestructible colander's side was bent!  Scarred, wounded and I was in no doubt where the fault lay....Mercury.

Mercury had done this.

And there were other things, oh yes, other things. Due to Mercury, I forgot to watch the Indy 500, the Kentucky Derby, The Preakness, and I'm sure Mercury was to blame for Rory McIlroy dropping 80 at his own tournament! I know it was Mercury that caused the entire right side rod of my closet to collapse, raining down garments like a Filene's basement sale.

And though a skeptic still, Mercury has certainly given me pause....and June 11th can't come soon enough, you know so I can leave my room again.

There is some good news though, last night my fortune cookie said, "You will find your solution where you least expect it."

Although, I don't really believe in fortune cookies...