QueenAnntics

Yesterday, the astrological world was apparently shaken by the news that there is a 13th sign in the Zodiac, namely Ophiucus.  Scorpios are now Libras, Cancers are Geminis and newspaper horoscopes have to do some regrouping!  Thanks to the precession of the equinoxes, the planets do not lie in the same constellations as they did thousands of years ago so really the Scorpio sun is actually lying in Libra territory today.

The concept of the new zodiac sign is based on this phenomenon. However, this is not a new revelation. What  is being described here is well-known to astrologers and it represents two schools of  astrological thought:  the Tropical astrological system popular in the West and the Sidreal/Vedic system popular in the East especially in India.  The two systems are approximately 24 degrees apart and all of the planets calculated on natal horoscope are changed as well.  Is your Venus in Aquarius in the Western natal horoscope?  In the Vedic horoscope, it would be in Capricorn!

There are many questions that astrologers banter around that rival the East/West debate.  For instance, every horoscope is divided into 12 sections called houses representing areas of life such as the houses of personal resources, home and heart, or career.  In the West, there are dozens of ways to “slice the pie” and no one agrees on which house system to use.  It is a great point of contention, Moreover, classic astrology only recognizes the seven visible planets: mercury, venus, mars, jupiter, saturn, plus the sun and the moon which are included on this list.  The outer planets Neptune and Uranus as well as the dwarf planet Pluto are excluded. Vedic astrology uses the seven visible planets plus the Dragons Head and Dragons Tail which are really the North and South nodes of the moon.  Aspects and orbs are another topic of debate.

As you can see, astrology is a complex topic that goes beyond whether there is a so-called 13th sign of the zodiac.  I would like to recommend a book called The Fated Sky by Benson Bobrick, a Columbia University graduate who has written several critically acclaimed books on historical topics.   In this book, he traces the history of astrology starting from the earliest surviving birthchart of April 29, 410 BC through all of the great astronomers (who also happened to be astrologers) such as Ptolemy,Keppler, and Copernicus. He also describes the rise of “sun sign astrology”, or “newspaper astrology”, that was popularized by Alan Leo in the late 19th and early 20th century.   It is a fascinating study of the impact of planetary cycles on all of the world’s religions and importance of the court astrologer in all royal houses in history. This broad historical view does not insult the intelligence of the reader but gives a wide view of an art and a science (the concepts are based on mathematical measurements) that has existed for thousands of years. I certainly enjoyed reading it and it made me wonder.

Sometimes when I am up in northern Minnesota and I am treated to a cloudless sky with a new moon, I try to imagine what it must be like to lie in an open field during the ancient times, when there was no light from below and no pollution from millions of cars-to see the sky and the seven visible planets with completely clarity.  And further, to watch the movements of the planets and to see their relationship to one another change.   Scores of  learned men throughout history did just that. Like the sundial measures time, the planets in the sky measure seasons and cycles.  How this is all interpreted is a matter of a debate that has gone on for centuries and isn’t likely to be resolved or proven by anyone.  Still I still wonder what they really saw. How did they connect what they saw above to what they observed below?   Of course, usually when I read one book about a topic, I have to read many more.  What I found was more questions than answers which is pretty typical for anyone who investigates this topic.   Still, to get a broad and intelligent overview on the topic of astrology, try the Fated Sky.

Hanging in the pool room in Steve’s house is the “supermodel” of all fish, a catch among catches, a blue marlin. This is the same type of fish made famous in Ernest Hemmingway’s epic novel The Old Man and the Sea. Below the fish is a plaque bearing the date and other important information related to the great catch.  As I was admiring the fish, I asked Steve, “What if this fish had jumped into your boat (which apparently can happen). Would you have still mounted it on your wall?” Steve did not hesitate even for a moment as he emphatically stated, “No, because it wouldn’t be my fish.”

Hmmmm…. this is a gorgeous fish!  It is a real eye-catcher mounted on the wall of Steve’s pool room.  It is admired by everyone who steps into the space.  One could probably purchase such a fish to put on the wall but people usually don’t buy another person’s trophy fish. Steve had to catch this marlin himself for it to be worthy enough to be brought back from Hawaii  to Minnesota.

The story of Steve’s marlin put me in one of my metaphor moods, times when I encounter something in my environment  that reminds me of some deeper truth.   In this case,  I see a parallel between trophy fishing and dating.  It is an excellent analogy for why women should not chase men.  Most  conquests of any lasting value involve effort and persistence. This is a tough message to sell given the popular culture that suggests that a woman take matters into her own hands and aggressively pursue the man of her dreams. Or, the notion that if a woman makes herself even more sexy, hot , or gorgeous, or she gives him everything he wants that he will do the same for her. However, there appears to be hard wiring in humans, particularly in men, that suggests that a prize, even an exceptional prize,  when gained without the thrill of the hunt, is no prize at all.  This idea can be hard to accept for many women.

Indeed, for awhile it may seem that this mindset works because most men will passively accept the attention of a woman. If a man detects that a woman’s mission is to please him, he will also focus on how she can please him. He will sit back and take what she offers him. However he is less likely to reciprocate in like fashion if there is nothing to be accomplished, no battle to be won! Boredom will soon set in.   A  woman’s receptive interest in a man generates his active interest in her. Active interest is what we feel when we have a goal in mind and are motivated to pursue it.  It’s wired into us to feel deep satisfaction after effort in order for the survival of our species.   In the absence of dynamic tension, nothing evolves.  Nothing thrives nor survives.

So  what do you get when you’re an easy catch?  You get a lazy man who lacks the desire and challenge to give you his best.  That isn’t to say that women should be impossible to reach or relentless in their demands. Indeed it is advisable to break above the surface of the water and show a beautiful, shiny dorsal fin or jump elegantly into the air. But don’t take the bait too quickly! Or for that matter, don’t jump into his boat for free unless you want to end up back in the sea!  It is the awareness that there is something of value to be won that will motivate a man to sit out in the hottest of hot suns to hook a gal once and for all.

And what if you don’t want to be caught right now?  What if you want to be the one that got away?  That’s fine. It is rare fisherman who will not cast his hook back into the sea hoping for a better outcome next time.

On October 30, 2010, it will be one year since we lost Joe, a very cool person.  Joseph Martin Kopetka was married to my cousin Jackie Kopetka and he alone, turned her away from her horrible taste in music and replaced it with an appreciation for the Beatles. For years, I tried to convince her that Kiss, White Snake, and Foreigner was head-banging nonsense but she respectfully disagreed.  One of my greatest memories was visiting her on the farm in Nebraska and racing off in her 1965 Chevy Malibu with no power steering, listening to “Feels Like the First Time”  by Foreigner. I would harass her for musical choice but she only cackled, turned it up louder, and stepped on the gas, her long hair flying out of the open window. Who would have predicted that her wedding dance song would be ,  “If I Fell”, by the Beatles?.

Joe Kopetka was a scientist, a chef, the life of the party, and one of the funniest guys I have ever known.  He had a Masters Degree in Immunology and a collection of microscopes.  If Joe was cooking, it was advisable to wear elastic waist pants because it was going to be an all night affair. His famous “Salmon Groovieness” was particularly delicious.  Joe could get everyone stirred up too.   At one family reunion, he started a diving contest at the local pool, affectionately known as the “Hartington Aquatic Center”.   Joe’s specialty was the Jackknife dive.   My brother did a back gainer, stunning all of the younger people at the pool.  Who is that bald guy twisting effortlessly off of the high dive?  Indeed Joe could set the tone for getting loose.  I have never laughed so long and so hard as the time Joe combine Edward G. Robinson and Moses from the movie The Ten Commandments into one character.   “There was this burning bush sheeee….”

So now there was this family reunion sheeeee….. and  it was in 2006 sheeeeeee…… and Joe got the idea that we should do a little Beatles music.  I thought that was a great scheme and I informed him that I had a karaoke machine up at my cottage and we could have a little wine,  fire that thing up and we could get some Beatles music…. “Stop!”, Joe said. “We don’t need a karaoke machine.   We are going to have a CONCERT!”   A concert, eh?  Well okay! So Joe headed to northern Minnesota with his guitars and my brother Mark brought his axe and my husband, the only formerly trained musician in the bunch brought up his keyboard.  My other brother Matt, the diving specialist, brought his voice.

Don’t let me down!   Don’t let me down!  Don’t let me down!  Don’t let me down! ….I’m in love for the first time.  Don’t ya know it’s gonna last. It’s a love that lasts forever.  It’s a love that has no past! Dont’ let me down….

It was another incredible night with Joe and one we will never forget.  It’s a love that lasts forever, a love that has no past.  We will never forget you, Joe.  And because you gave my dear cousin some musical taste, you are in my Heaven’s Hall of Fame too!

Denny Hecker, the disgraced Twin Cities automobile dealership mogul is in the news again. This time, he slithered and manipulated his way into having the federal government pay his attorney’s fees, claiming he was broke, while he continued to spend money on items and experiences to feed his lavish and insatiable tastes. Raise your hand if you’re surprised.  Google “Denny Hecker” and over 44,000 entries appear.   Yet he continues to fascinate and appall us by his lack of remorse, his continued manipulation, and his seemingly unruffled attitude about being $767  million in debt.  We are holding our collective breath if we think that is ever going to change-that this guy will suddenly see the profound error in his ways.

Psychopaths make up 1% of the population according to most estimates.  Sociopaths, the cousin to psychopaths are similar and in some circles are considered almost the same.  However, the distinction appears to be the lack of organizational skills and perhaps a little more social awkwardness in the sociopath versus the psychopath. Sociopaths are a little more common too making up 3-5% of the population. Hecker, the former czar of an automobile empire, is more likely a psychopath.  He is hardly disorganized.

Moreover, we run into psychopaths more frequently than we think.  According to Scientific American Mind magazine (December 2007), it is a myth that all psychopaths are violent. Many of them are in the business and entertainment industry and have not committed any violent acts whatsoever.  Another misconception is that they are irrational when in fact they are quite rational.  They know exactly what they are doing but no emotional consequences or empathy is felt toward another at a genuine level.  They are quite skilled at mimicking emotions leading others to believe they are engaged when in fact they are not.

Indeed,  psychopaths are frequently charming and glib, possessing ultra-honed schmooze skills that can fool even the most stalwart among us.  There is a tendency to lie and cheat and dismiss it as being resourceful and necessary.  Denny Hecker has all of the classic characteristics of a psychopath including narcissism, grandiosity, and a penchant for marrying early and often.   I am certain I am not saying what hasn’t been said by many others.  This man is a psychopath.  He crossed the line from slick to sick.

Get thee to a brain scanning booth, Mr. Hecker!  Perhaps a fMRI will shed some light on your errant ways.  Your brain is a brain gone wrong.  There may be a reason (not an excuse) for your lying, cheating, and swindling ways.  Deep within the brain is the paralimbic system that registers feelings and emotional value experiences.  The brains of psychopaths tend to be underdeveloped, like a weak muscle.  Much of the brain science behind the behavior of a psychopath is emerging and new treatments are being developed, combining medications and therapy.  Maybe there is hope for you too.

The bottom line is that the court can ask Denny Hecker the same questions hoping that for once, he will come clean and tell the truth.  He will see the light and want to make amends.  He will feel remorse for his deceitful behavior.  Brain science suggests to us that he won’t.  We will continue to see this guy on the front page of the paper, same song, different verse.  I think it would be better to invest money in some sort of compulsory treatment for our brother, than to spend money on attorneys, court appearances and the like only to hear the same answers.  There is no point in trying to play fair with a psychopath.   They love the game.

At the Detroit Metro Airport, there is a trippy tunnel of lights that connect the “A” terminal to the “B/C” terminal.  There are several internet videos of this mesmerizing, psychedelic surprise that lurks below the hustle and bustle of this busy airport.   Here is one example of The Light Tunnel.   Many travelers never know it is there because it mostly serves the smaller regional airlines.  My first experience with the Tunnel was when I was picking up Julius, a fox terrier puppy, in Elmira, New York.  Slightly irritated that I had to change terminals, I proceeded with the mindset that I would drag my suitcase into a crowded tram and hold on for the ride.   I can barely describe my surprise when I descended the escalator and found the Light Tunnel.

I am from Detroit and I don’t mind saying it either.  The outsider may scoff at this old city citing the race riots, urban blight, and the fall of the auto industry among it’s many flaws. Detroit has had it’s share of crooked politicians too such as Coleman “Nacho Daddy” Young and everyone’s favorite,  Mayor Kwame Kirkpatrick, orchestrator of the famous Manoogian Mansion party complete with strippers and one angry wife.   All of these are truths about Detroit and the list of it’s problems extends well beyond what has already been mentioned.  It’s going to take time and a great deal of leadership to pull Detroit out of it’s latest funk.

Even so, there is a spirit in Detroit that  is quirky, brilliant, and colorful but it lies below the surface waiting to be discovered, much like the Tunnel of  Lights. There is an eclectic mix of people and experiences that is very uniquely Detroit.  I recall taking my daughter Chrissy, to Lafayette Coney Island, open 24 hours and located near the police station,  at 1am (in our pajamas)  prior to Game 1 of  the World Series in 2006.   Greek immigrants have run this restaurant for the last 70 years and they still use old fashioned cash registers.  There is nothing fancy at this place, just a slice of uniqueness that you may not find in more polished, trendy cities.  Detroit has many of these oddball places and they all tend be operated by some one of a kind proprietor who can make the simple act of selling a hot dog, a memorable experience.  Moreover, there is nothing like a Red Wing hockey game at the ramshackle Joe Louis arena or night at Comerica Park where we are expected to pay in “dollas” and not dollars. In the old days, we used to joke with the Canadian Immigration as we passed through the Windsor Tunnel or the Ambassador Bridge to Windsor, Canada.   Since 9-11….not so much.  It’s still amazing that you can drive in an 80-year old tiled, tunnel and end up in another country!

Perhaps I am delusional and Detroit really is an old, run down city that is merely a pass through to other wonderful destinations.  And maybe the Light Tunnel is just a way to get from Terminal “A” to Terminal “B/C”.  However, there are always unexpected surprises in life and upon closer inspection, grow richer and more interesting if one is willing to slow down and have a look.   The Light Tunnel in Detroit is one such experience and within the city itself, lie many more.

Why glorify the mouse? First let me set the context that compelled me to write about this today. This afternoon, my internet repair person told me that I had had unreliable service for the past several weeks because mice had chewed through my cable (on the outside of my house and not the inside, thank goodness). As a result,  my internet service was at the mercy of the outdoor elements.  Cry me a river, right?

Well, I am so dependent and addicted to having a fast and reliable computer that having it fritz out on me was almost too much to stand.  Indeed there  was wailing and gnashing of teeth throughout the household.  Homework was interrupted.  No bills could be paid. No time wasting surfing the internet! And all along, I had one nagging image in my mind…  A mouse. A mouse is involved. I just know it. Earlier this year, a mouse chewed on the air conditioning wires. This sneaky, destructive,creature that can squeeze through a hole the size of a pencil  had to be behind this malfunction too.  Something deep inside told me that when something inexplicably stops working, all the dials point to Public Enemy #1, the mouse.

Ah…. the mouse. Why do we glorify this nasty little rodent in cartoons, children’s literature, and movies?  As I sat with some friends this weekend,  speculating that a mouse was once again up to no good,  we all agreed that mice are owl food and nothing more and yet they enjoy rock star status in film and literature.  Within seconds we named : Stewart Little, Despereaux, Mighty Mouse, Minnie and Mickey Mouse, Ratatouilee (a CHEF mouse??), Jerry (from Tom and Jerry), Speedy Gonzalez, and Mighty Mouse.  In another few seconds, we named books and poems featuring mice: Hickory Dickory Dock, Three Blind Mice, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, The 3 Mouseketeers, and multiple Grimms Fairy Tales, Surely, no mouse list is complete without mentioning one of the first mouse stories ever told: The Country and City Mouse which was originally an Aesop fable written circa 600 B.C. ! This madness has been going on for a very long time!

Here’s the deal: I don’t know about you but when I know I have a mouse in the house, I absolutely fall apart. Setting traps are scary enough (What if it snaps back and smacks my fingers?). Emptying a trap requires pure courage.  Add those factors to the damage mice cause by nibbling through wires and cables or getting into food supplies and you wonder what writers are thinking when they continue a nearly 3000 year history of glorifying the mouse!!

…. OK.  I am done ranting.  Now I ask you.  Do you agree or am I just crazy??

I am sitting by the lake on a bench that my parents gave me, now rusted and covered with lichen. Everyone around the lake path knows this bench and it is a landmark. The sky is clear and the moon is barely a sliver so the planets and stars are shining above me with great brilliance. The air is warm and there is a slight breeze ruffling the leaves in the trees and on the ground. I used to call Natalie from this bench when she lived in Arizona and tonight I called Crim and made her listen to the owl that was in the distance.  She said she heard it. I wish someone was down here with me, not to talk, but just to feel the peace. I even started thinking that if I knew I was going to die tonight, I would plant myself on this bench and make room for my family then wait for my dad and grandma to come and get me. I have no plans for that to happen but that’s just how perfect it is. I am having one of those cleansing cries that must be the release of tension and probably some old lady hormone changes too.  Maybe since Andrew visited the University of Michigan, I started to think I am almost done as a mom and I hope, for the most part, I was helpful. How lucky I have been to live in a place where I don’t have to lock my doors all of the time and I can be here right now, safe and all by myself. Mark can make me furious but he has been good and he has given us a great house, travel, debt-free college education, and at times, even some  laughs because he is sooo dad. He has mellowed with age and I know he will be a wonderful grandfather someday. Anyway, I just did realize that they haven’t caught the black bear that has been wandering around in the neighborhood and maybe he will come down for a drink in the lake. That would make for an interesting end to this perfect night.