Linda Goodman's Sun Signs (49 page)

Just after Kay's warm, generous excursion with her assistant, she cheered up her boss, the publisher, who had been on doctor's orders not to drink for a year. One solid year. He had had infectious hepatitis. No liquor, Not one drop. After going for twelve long months without even wetting his lips, he was justifiably proud of his will power. Kay just freshly back from Europe, paid him a typical Sagittarian compliment. “About your drinking,” she began, and he smiled, waiting. “I hear you've been trying to stay on the wagon.”
Trying?
After twelve months without a single drop?
Trying?
As he recovered his composure, she went on. “Say, you know there's a party tomorrow night for Joe's book? I thought I ought to warn you, but I never get to see you alone.” Warn him? Warn him about what? The publisher forgot his chagrin under this new threat. She continued: “We were all hoping that, well, this is embarrassing—but we were all hoping that you wouldn't spoil the party.” By now, the publisher was speechless. Not Sagittarius.

“What I mean is, we hope you don't mess up the evening by being a wet blanket about not drinking—and all that. Joe likes his martinis, and after all, his book is a Literary Guild selection. If you slink around like some fugitive from prohibition and make everybody miserable, just because you have this terrible disease, it will throw a damper on the whole thing. Say, can people catch it from being in the same room with you?”

The publisher somehow managed to stammer that she was safe, then gathered his injured dignity together long enough to remind her that he had hosted parties himself for authors like Edna Ferber and Ernest Hemingway without mishap. “I have always been told,” he said evenly, between clenched teeth, “that my manners are impeccable.” The Sagittarian, blind to her boss's near apoplexy, heartily agreed with him. “That's for sure. You're a fabulous host. No one in the publishing business can figure it out.” The publisher had just barely enough breath left to ask, Figure what out? The archer's answer zinged home. “How is it that you can be such a great host and such a perfectly lousy guest? Your own parties are marvelous, but you always pull such big boo-boos every time you go to somebody else's whing-ding. It's really weird.”

Then she noticed something else weird. Her boss's face. It was turning purple. Suddenly contrite, the friendly Sagittarian immediately apologized. “Gee, I hope I didn't say the wrong thing. It won't matter how you behave anyway. Joe thinks you're really swell. He was just telling us all today that he's glad he decided to come to us even though his old agent had been against it. He can't understand why he's heard such awful things about you. I told him people were just jealous. Say, you don't look so hot. Are you sure your doctor knows what he's doing?” (There are rumors that Kay's boss went off the wagon that night, permanently.) The Sagittarian? Oh, she's happily helping new authors get over their nervousness at the same publishing company. Fired? He wouldn't dare fire her. As I said in the beginning, everybody loves her.

Few people can resent the archer for very long, because he's so transparently free of harmful intent. You'll see this lovable, likable, intelligent idealist almost anywhere or any time. You may catch him shooting out his careless arrows from your television screen some Sunday night, leaving his guest stars numb and speechless with astonishment at his frankness. He may be your cab driver some Monday morning, the one who cheerfully explains to you why he hates stingy tippers—or you could find him serving you in a restaurant some Friday evening, earnestly advising you not to order the oysters because they're a little on the tired side.

Most archers sincerely try to cheer you up. At least, that's what they start out to do, but sometimes it falls a little short of the good intention. I once had a Sagittarius manager who tried to boost my morale by telling me how much better my hair looked than it usually did when I hadn't washed it or rolled it up for more than a week. But he's still a good friend, so you can see it's useless to get exasperated. Besides, now and then Sagittarians can come up with a dilly of a statement that sends your spirits really soaring, and makes up for all the rest. They can offer profoundly wise counsel, when you've had time to analyze their viewpoints. This is a fire sign, so most archers are extroverts, talkative and forward. There are a few who are painfully shy and timid, but even these are full of original ideas—and they're just as blunt. In fact, the quiet, fey Sagittarians with the reclusive, meek ways, can dream the biggest dreams and aim for the highest goals. Introvert or extrovert, the archer is a promoter at heart. The rare one who doesn't say much could be planning something really spectacular to spring on an unsuspecting world. His mind is busy even when his tongue is still, so you have to remember his Sun sign is always there at the bottom of his nature, lest he lull you into not being prepared for his next startling move.

Most of the time the typical Sagittarian is happy and gregarious, but his temper can flare like a sky rocket if he's pushed around by people who abuse his natural friendliness or who get too familiar. Rebellion against authority and stuffy society is also common. Sagittarius will never run away from a fight or call for help. The women can lose their normally pleasant dispositions and let go with a barrage of unexpected plain talk that puts troublemakers right where they belong. The men will use their fists and scorn weapons. A rude, insulting person who has challenged Jupiter's good nature often finds himself sprawled on the sidewalk wondering where that truck came from.

High-spirited Jupiter people can't stand to be accused of dishonesty. An unjust accusation or a slur against their integrity will make righteous indignation flame high, but after an especially fiery display of temper, the typical Sagittarian will feel remorse and try to make amends. He'll black your eye and put you in the hospital, but he'll probably shower you with flowers and sympathy the next day. The archer usually speaks and acts first, and considers the consequences later.

Many Sagittarians seek the stage, and no one is happier giving encore after encore for an excited audience. He'll sing himself hoarse or dance his shoes off for the sheer exhilaration of performing. Show business is full of archers.

There's a strong religious streak in Jupiter men and women, especially in their youth. They're intensely interested in church affairs, but as they grow older they can become skeptical of dogma, inclined to question former faiths and search for a perfection of values. It's a rare Sagittarian who doesn't have a matched set of luggage. They love to travel, and there's usually at least one suitcase, well worn from hundreds of trips, that's kept packed and ready for instant use.

You'll always notice something child-like about the typical naive, brave, optimistic Sagittarian. He refuses to accept the seriousness of life, though some of them manage responsibility with admirable conscientiousness in later years. Still, they're never truly happy when they're burdened by it. Jupiter natures rebel against confinement, and too much of it can bring on serious illness. If the Sagittarian can survive that, and the wear and tear of scattering his energies, he'll live to be as old as Methuselah. Most archers retain their faculties, razor sharp and refined by age, to the end. Senility is almost never a problem.

His sensitive areas are the hips, lungs, liver, arms, hands, shoulders, intestines and feet. The Sagittarian love of sports and the outdoors may bring accidents through reckless over-activity. Hospitals can rarely keep him bedded down more than a few days. He gives in to sickness reluctantly, and usually recuperates with amazing swiftness. Life seldom defeats these people permanently. They believe that tomorrow will surely be better than yesterday, and today is pretty interesting. Moody spells are gone almost before the clouds have a chance to obscure the sunshine.

Every Sagittarian is something of a gambler, unless there's a cautious, conservative influence in the natal chart. Very few of them can resist throwing a couple of bills on the green felt. The sound of dice rattling in the dealer's hand attracts some Jupiter men and women like the siren song of Circe. With adverse aspects between the planets at birth, an archer can gamble away a fortune, or throw the rent money on the nose of a favorite horse. Las Vegas attracts Sagittarians like sugar attracts flies. So do the more staid gambles of the stock market and real estate. Fortunately, the majority of them keep the urge to speculate under control, but even these will risk a few dollars now and then on a fast poker game or a lottery ticket.

Both the timid and the forceful ones will take a chance on love anytime. Sagittarians plunge into romance with reckless abandon, but they often stop short suddenly when marriage is mentioned. They think it over, then go ahead and make a mistake after careful consideration. Although the archer is warm and wonderful in love relationships, he's a little tricky to catch. Symbolically he's half horse-half man, which obviously gives him a head start in any game of chase, if he doesn't stumble over his own feet.

Among the most unpleasant traits of some Sagittarians are a tendency to violent temper, a love of too much food and drink, which can lead to obesity or alcoholism, mental brilliance stained by burning sarcasm, or extreme eccentricity and the inability to keep a secret. But none of these need be permanent flaws. They can be easily rooted out with Sagittarian determination. The average Jupiter man will loan you money without ever making you ashamed to ask or even obligated to repay it (barring a stingy Moon sign). The Jupiter woman will adopt the homeless orphan or the lost animal, and always make room for one more at her table.

Sagittarians have a tendency to go off on tangents. The archer will take on a great cause with blind devotion and believe that the possibilities outweigh the shortcomings, an attitude that results from his brilliant imagination and progressive thinking. He never fails to present his case with cool, reasonable arguments, sometimes cutting the opposition to ribbons with sharp satire, and yet remaining aloof from the fray, somehow. The fire is always ready to leap forth, however, when anyone unfairly attacks his miracle or his cause of the moment. He's a formidable foe, because he aims straight when he takes the time to focus on the victim. His arrows then rarely miss their mark. They're dipped in clever wit and sharp enough to pierce the strongest armor.

Although a few December people are genuinely funny, it's a curious fact that when most of them tell a joke, the timing is slightly off and they fluff the punch line. The audience—at home or in the theater—will roar at the obvious awkwardness, and the jovial Jupiter soul will think everyone is laughing at his great sense of comedy timing. It can be hilarious.

Male or female, the archer can either behave in such a slapdash fashion, or pretend to have such unassuming manners when he chooses, that you may get the impression his mind isn't too sharp or that he's timid. True, there are a few December-born people who occasionally exhibit eccentric reclusive habits, but that just gives them more opportunity to sharpen their intelligence into genius.

Although Sagittarians have fantastic memories that tell them exactly what they said and where they were on April 14, 1939, and they remember every detail of books and movies, they can forget where they left their coats. Most of them are constantly losing gloves, car keys, wallets—and some people are unkind enough to say they would lose their heads if they weren't fastened on their necks.

A Sagittarian can never successfully tell a lie. No one believes him for a minute. Deceit is unnatural to the archer, and when he tries to dabble in it, the exposure is usually swift and sure. He's always better off to stick to the truth and let the chips fall where they may. Even his observant, highly aware mind won't rescue him from the results of an excursion into deception, unless he has Scorpio rising. I know a secretive archer who has such a Pluto ascendant, and therefore manages very well to play a good chess game. This kind of a Jupiter person is an exception, but be prepared to meet a few.

To the Sagittarian, life is secretly a circus, and he's the clown, rolling and tumbling through purple hoops in a sky-blue suit, His face is smeared with the bright, gay colors of greasepaint, and his eyes glitter with curiosity and fun. As the music of the calliope gets louder, he stumbles and falls, then executes a perfect somersault on the back of a prancing pony. On his fingers he wears three turquoise rings; on his toes are bells that ring like the chimes in a distant church spire that disappears into the clouds. The archer happily blows a lustrous tin horn, made of the soft, malleable metal that's barely affected by moisture. Whether he's bold or backward, the true nature of this generous idealist is as merry as the Christmas holly berry. Bravely, he pins a large carnation over his big heart, and curves his bow toward the sky. When he aims straight, he shoots higher than man can see—past the stars—to the place where all dreams are really born.

Famous Sagittarian Personalities