Linda Goodman's Sun Signs (54 page)

Most Sagittarian employees won't blush when you pay them a compliment. They love applause. You may blush for them, however, when they start to boast about their talents and abilities. One of the minor Jupiter flaws is a happy willingness to promise to deliver anything—the sky is truly the limit—and then not quite following through, because the target was a little further off than he figured. Next time, he'll aim straighter and deliver. The quieter, more discreet archers will, in their own mild way, also tend to bite off a wee bit more than they can chew. Still, both types will come through on top often enough to keep you fascinated.

It's the Jupiter luck that seems to hang over these people. Already fortified at birth by reliable hunches and excellent perceptions, which progress toward logical conclusions, they're right more often than they're wrong. Add a little typical Sagittarius luck, and you can see why they're frequently at the head of the parade. A friend of mine recently pointed out what he thought was an exception—a Sagittarius actress who's been trying to get a break for years. Although it now looks as if it's just around the corner, she waited so long and had to work so hard to get recognized, he thought Jupiter had deserted her. But her delay in becoming a star had nothing to do with the consistent Jupiter-type good fortune. Everybody's timetable is a little jerky sometimes. Still, she gets the landlord to fix her door knobs while the water is flooding the bedroom in another apartment; she gets to the store just in time to buy the last honeydew melon in the rack; and she finds a new pair of stockings in the refrigerator when she's torn her only pair and doesn't have a dime left until next Tuesday. She got her first really good job because the producer thought she was Clare Danes, and then was glad he made the mistake after he saw her act. Those kinds of things are always happening to Sagittarius people. Before the situation gets too black, the sun pops out from some unexpected source and shines on them, as if the sun wanted to reward Jupiter's pure and naive optimism.

Sometimes the Sagittarian luck works in reverse for the archer you employ. He'll fumble the biggest deal your outfit ever had the chance to close, but the day before you fire him, you'll discover that the president of the company he insulted and called a phony was just indicted for selling watered stocks. That crazy Sagittarian's blunder probably saved you from sheer disaster. Your Jupiter assistant who forgot to mail those important letters hardly has time to dry her tears at your cruel abuse before you find out that one of them contained a check made out for more money than your firm could cover at the bank that week.

There are Sagittarians who scoff at their own good fortune and like to give the impression they're real born losers. If you employ one, don't be tricked by his shrewdness. He may be one of those suspicious types with a Scorpio ascendant, who thinks that, if he talks about it, his luck will change, but he wins at Poker as often as the rest of the archers. Last week, he walked into a shoe store to buy the cheapest pair of shoes they had, because he was broke. It turned out that he was the one millionth customer and he won a new pair of shoes every month for five years. He didn't tell you about that, did he? Scorpio ascendant. But Jupiter Sun sign.

Dishonesty is not one of his weaknesses. Neither is tact. You may have to patch up some office squabbles or have to make peace when your brutally frank Sagittarian sympathizes with the accountant about his baldness and suggests a cure—after you've spent years pretending the poor fellow had a full head of hair to keep him happy because he's a Leo. Your assistant will never forget the time she was on the telephone with the firm's most important customer, and the Sagittarius member of your staff rushed up to her excitedly and shouted within an inch of the mouthpiece that the pipes were broken and the ladies' room was flooded. It can be disconcerting, but you'll get over these little character deficiencies.

The Sagittarius employee may surprise you with an occasional outburst of temper, directed toward anyone from the elevator operator to yourself. (He's not prejudiced.) His fiery, righteous indignation is usually aroused when someone dares to question the honesty of his intentions. He's the soul of integrity, even if he takes some odd, winding back roads to reach the truth. He really is. Doubting him or accusing him of false pretenses can cause him to dip his verbal arrows in flame. They'll pierce your sensitive spots as if he had been trained by Robin Hood himself. In fact, Robin is a very good nickname for him. He probably deeply sympathizes with robbing the rich to help the poor. As for his anger, it never lasts long enough to really burn, and his arrows seldom leave scars. Just little nicks in your ego.

If he can't find an apartment, let your archer move into one of your large, roomy suitcases, and pay rent. He'll much prefer living out of a suitcase to living under a roof and between four walls, if they threaten in any way to rob him of his freedom. When he comes in with his brief case covered with travel stickers, he's giving you a subtle message that his toes are getting itchy. Take the hint and send him on a trip. He probably needs it. He'll come back with a full bag of orders and a lighter heart. He's a good salesman, but you may have to train him to curb his hasty enthusiasms. The Sagittarius can dash out after a challenge, and forget to wear his caution. But as impulsive as he is, when his thinking cap is securely fastened on, he can beat all the pros with his sound, logical, if a bit startling ideas. Money is important to him, because he has to support himself in the style to which he would like to become accustomed. He's seldom stingy and if you are, he'll move on to more congenial surroundings.

Your Archer can cause you to throw up your hands in despair, but it won't do any good. When he sees you with your arms in the air, he'll just toss you a ball and say, “Catch!” What are you going to do? Catch. The exercise will be good for you.

 

“Speak in French when you can't think

of the English for a thing—

Turn out your toes as you walk—and remember who you are!”

 

It's anything but a breeze to grasp the Capricorn character. You'll learn to recognize this Sun sign, but you'll need some preliminary practice. Study the quiet spider in the corner. He hasn't a chance against the fast-flying insects. But they get caught in his cleverly spun web—and the spider wins. Remember Aesop's slow tortoise, humorously crawling in that race. He hasn't a chance against the quick, bright hare. But the flighty hare goes in all directions, forgetting the goal—the tortoise wins. Observe the goat, as he scales the mountainside. He hasn't a chance against the strategy of the smarter humans who pursue him. But the hunters fall behind as the sturdy goat climbs determinedly from crag to crag on his uniquely designed hooves—and the goat wins.

Now study a Capricorn. Where will you find him? Just about anywhere he can advance or improve himself. Anywhere he can get ahead and further his secret ambitions. Try a social gathering. The Capricorn is not a carefree party type, but the goat we're studying is a social climber, as well as a mountain climber. Pick a mixed group, preferably in the upper income level. You can also try the middle income level, but the lower you go beneath that, the smaller your chances of finding a Capricorn. He probably won't be wearing a lamp shade on his head, tap dancing or calling attention to himself in any way; he'll be the admiring spectator in the background. You may not even notice him at first, as he quietly and calmly watches all the flashy, pushy, charming, aggressive and brilliant personalities around him. Everyone in the group will seem to have superior equipment for the race—any race. Lots of them are bluffing, some of them are afraid, but they're all highly polished, and the Capricorn doesn't seem to have a chance against them. Yet, he will win.

A couple of years ago, I visited the bookstore of a New York astrologer. As I carelessly scattered my gems of wisdom, gave him unsolicited advice about what books he should stock, and argued astrological theory with him, I learned he was a Capricorn and he learned I was an Aries. Smugly, I guessed his correct ascendant, talked faster, moved faster and seemed to dominate the scene. Before I left, he gave me a charming, gentle smile, and in a fascinating Hungarian accent, he said a funny thing. He said, “Capricorn will always triumph over Aries. The goat will win over the ram.” It was spoken lightly, but he was quite serious. Outside the bookstore, I laughed to myself. “Imagine such conceit,” I thought. “No one can top a double Aries.” Know what? When I can't find certain books I need that have been out of print since Noah built the ark, the Capricorn comes up with them. Gradually, I've been forced to pay respectful tribute to his superiority. Now here I am crediting his Sun sign with qualities I envy, but don't possess. You see? Capricorn won.

Another confession. As an Aries, I hate to take direction. No Aries writer can stand to have anyone edit his work. Recently, it was suggested that a Capricorn woman go over some material I had written. I was infuriated. Outwardly I agreed, but secretly I decided that she wasn't going to change a single word of the product of my genius. I would only pretend to go along. She made her suggestions quietly, almost timidly, and against my will, I saw only too clearly how intelligent they were. Why hadn't I thought of cutting that phrase and changing that word myself? After I had grudgingly followed her instructions to the letter, the improvement in the material was painfully obvious. Capricorn won again.

I've finally made up my aggressive Aries mind that it's no use to fight them. You might as well do the same thing. Pity the high pressure salesman who sizes up his Capricorn pigeon and thinks, “This guy is a pushover. I can sell him the Brooklyn Bridge.” He has a lot to learn.

Since the goat merges into the group so gently, unconsciously camouflaging himself into the background, it's not always easy to recognize the physical characteristics of this Sun sign. Capricorns can be stocky and muscular, thin and wiry or plump and soft. But no matter how the body is shaped, the goat will give the impression of being rooted to the spot, until he decides to move to another spot. Generally, Saturn people have straight, lank, dark hair, dark, steady eyes, and swarthy olive or tan complexions. You'll see Capricorns with curly blonde hair and blue eyes, but watch them closely. Honestly now, don't they really look as if they should have been born with dark hair, eyes and skin? It's a delicate point, but valid. Take Dolly Parton, for example. Peaches and cream complexion, green eyes and corn silk hair. Look again. Observe her calm, deliberate actions. Listen to her soaring voice. Note her legendary tough business head and her earthy ambition. Aren't these more synonomous with the steady, reliable image of a brunette? Master this subtlety and you'll never be fooled by the appearance of a Capricorn.

There's always a faint aura of melancholy and seriousness surrounding the Saturn personality. None of them completely escape the Saturnine influence of stern discipline and self-denial. Many Capricorns have strong feet and wear sensible shoes. Their hands are capable, their voices usually even and soothing—and you'll probably notice a gentleness that flatters and persuades. Capricorns can look and act as harmless as a feather quilt, but they're as tough as a keg of nails. They hammer away persistently, relentlessly, managing to digest insults, pressures, disappointments and duty as calmly as the goat digests rusty cans, broken glass and cardboard. Like him, they have iron stomachs and dangerous horns. While the gay, laughing extroverts scatter their energies hither and yon, Capricorns never deviate an inch to the left or right. They steadily follow the upward path, with inbred faith in the security of the well-traveled road, and contempt for the enticing short cuts they know are full of pitfalls.

Capricorns have an enormous admiration for those who have preceded them to the top of the mountain, and who have laid down the laws for the journey. They court success; they respect authority and honor tradition. Lots of energetic, impulsive people label them snobbish and stuffy. The goat could conversely label his critics rash and foolish, but usually he's too wise to make unnecessary enemies by indulging in such self-defense. The Saturn-ruled submit. They agree. They adapt. Or do they just appear to do so? Capricorn allows others to walk in front of him, but he often gets there first, against all logic. He's careful to avoid the obstacles, the sharp rocks. No wonder he seldom stumbles. His eyes aren't fastened on the stars. He keeps his gaze fastened ahead, and his feet firmly planted on the ground. Jealousy, passion, impulse, anger, frivolity, waste, laziness, carelessness—are all obstacles. Let others trip and fall over them. Not Capricorn. He may glance briefly behind him with pity for the failures, or in grateful tribute for past advice and help, but he'll soon continue his steady upward climb until his goal is reached.

There are Capricorns who are deliciously romantic—who understand the strange light of the moon and the glorious colors of the butterfly's wing. But they won't let their emotions blind them to the facts. Not if they're typical Saturn people. If Capricorn writes a lovely poem, full of imagination and illusion, the theme will be solid and the punctuation will be correct. It will come to the point, and the sentiment will never be allowed to slosh over the edges. Don't defy the conventions if you want the respect of the goat. Even the more daring ones, and they are the exceptions, will observe at least the outer trappings of social acceptability. Public scenes and raw, naked, uncontrolled passions embarrass them.