Medford mail tribune., February 03, 1963, Image 37

.
"You'd make a fine nurse,"
said the palmist (re-enacted in
this photo by a model) as she
moved her green-glowing
flashlight over the author's
palm. A tape recorder is hid
den nearby in the author's bag.
FHOTOGHAM IY IICMAID CHKANI
learn, she explained. This was only my eighth
reincarnation.
Next, I visited a reader of the Tarot. These
are ornate cards which scholars have traced
back to the Middle Ages. The reader spread them
dramatically on the table and announced, "You
are going on a trip."
"Oh," I answered, "I just came back from one."
"Then you'll probably go away for a weekend."
"That's strange. I rarely leave the city on
weekends because of the crowds."
"It could be a spiritual journey, you know,
dearie," she snapped indignantly.
Then I tried a total gypsy tea-ieaf reader, but
she hinted sullenly I might be with the police
and refused to talk to me. A friend told me after
ward that tea-leaf reading and other kinds of
prognostication are illegal in most states and
that our city's police recently had launched a
campaign to'ciean out the fortunetellers.
Perhaps all the "marvelous" fortunetellers have
been caught, I thought. Perhaps it just was not
in the stars for me to find a good one. But what
about the stars? They aren't illegal. Astrologers,
as well as graphologists, are listed in most phone
books. A lawyer explained to me that no high
court has disproved the astrologers' basic con
tention that human character and actions are
predetermined by the position of the stars and
planets at the exact minute of birth.
I chose a famous astrologer with a large cli
entele of theatrical celebrities, businessmen, and
government officials and had to wait five weeks
for an appointment. When I finally entered his
plush office, he had just finished my horoscope.
"Now, March 29," he began, addressing me by
my birthday, "you have charm of manner which,
with that Mars and Pluto behind you, could open
any door if you just use it and don't get im
patient. You're restless pnd you have great vi
tality, but you lose interest if things don't move
fast enough. You are also an executive who would
have to work where you'd be under direction.
And, March 29, you were raised an only child."
Why that's me, I thought in amazement. He
sounded as if he had known me for years.
He started quickly listing events of my past
"When you were a little girl, did your parents
move? You were five, six, seven? Let me go to
when you were 11 or 12. Did you feel the responsi
bility of school? Then you made your first break
at 18. You were in love in '67 or '58. No, it was
'56, '57. Then again in '69. You were only in love
with love in '61."
With hypnotic intensity, dates and events
poured from him in a flood of words. Once, I
stopped him in confusion. He grumbled, "These
are infallible rules of astrology, March 29. If it
doesn't come to you, you must not take time
to think back now. You'll remember later."
Another deluge of dates and suddenly he slowed
down. "Before we go any further," he said, "I
forgot to tell you. You should be connected with
publishing. And yet, you're not a writer like most
unless you have a tape recorder."
Had the Atrolger Quesscd?
I felt the hair on the back of mv neck tinirlp
and I gripped the purse containing my tiny
recorder. He might have guessed I was a writer
because an editor had referred me to him. But
how could he know about the recorder?
The astrologer blithely followed this statement
with another surprise. "Ever had any trouble
with your back or knees?"
I gasped. Years ago, I had been a ballet dancer
and had seriously injured both knees.
He then advised me to leave town immediately
and move to the Southwest. He predicted that I
would marry an advertising executive this year
and that he would have blue-gray eyes and
stomach trouble. He also predicted a second mar
(Continued on page 6)
Family Weekly. February 1, IM1 5