Linda Goodman's Sun Signs

by Linda Goodman

  Your fish may not be quite so neurotic about it, but there will probably be times when he’ll tell you he was at the cleaner’s when he was really buying a cigar. Why? I really don’t know. Nor does he. It’s a sort of mild deception the Piscean (also the Geminian) seems to enjoy. As long as he’s wearing green suspenders and people think he’s wearing orange suspenders—or no suspenders—he feels secure, somehow. Since it makes him happy, let him have his little mysteries. Why make a big deal of it? Even if you know he wasn’t at the cleaner because you saw him in the cigar store yourself, ask him if his slacks were ready. When he tells you the man said they won’t be ready until Monday, remark that the cleaner is as slow as molasses and let it go at that. He could have far worse habits than practicing a little harmless make-believe, just to keep his vivid imagination oiled up and in top working condition.

  There won’t be many tremendous surges of jealousy. Or if there are, he’s such an excellent natural actor (if you let him practice), that he’ll probably pretend them away. But he’s a man, for all his poetic, tender nature, so he’ll expect your technical loyalty when everything is said and done. You may have to control your own jealousy, however, because he’ll have warm friends of both sexes, and he’ll be sympathetic to them, sometimes at odd hours. It’s his nature to be gregarious. He can’t help it. There’s danger here if you’re the violently possessive type. An Aries or Leo female had better chase another moonbeam. He does admire beauty, and he may stare at pretty legs from time to time. But you can keep that in bounds and innocent with a little extra effort, and your reward will be a gentle husband, who’s both a romantic lover and a companion who can talk about everything under the sun.

  When those spells of loneliness and depression cause the gloom to gather, toss your apron in the corner behind the aquarium, throw on a yellow dress and a golden smile, buy some green tickets to a happy show, and trick him right out of it. Pisceans are particularly vulnerable to suggestion. You may hit a few snags trying to get him to be economical and cautious about money. Neptune people, frankly, aren’t noted for their triple A credit ratings (unless he has a Capricorn ascendant or strong planets in Taurus, Aquarius or Cancer, for example). He’ll learn, but don’t compound the situation by being extravagant yourself, if you can help it. One loose spender per family goes a long way—toward the poor house. He needs a good example. It’s surprising how that works with the Pisces character in a sort of follow-the-leader manner. That is, if the leader is close to him and someone he respects. The Piscean nature is vividly receptive to the vibrations around him, especially if they’re intensified by emotion.

  The children will find him one whale of a lot of fun. Chances are he’ll take them boating and swimming and snorkel diving. He’ll play the part of the Wicked Crocodile and Little Boy Blue until they think they’ve found a human nursery rhyme, in living color. He may sprinkle them with a little way-out philosophy, sing them some mildly salty ballads, or teach them to stand on their heads, yoga style. They’ll probably adore him, and they just may turn out to be well-balanced, well-adjusted adults, thanks to his rare ability to hold a tiny bird in his hand without crushing it or frightening it. You do the spanking and he’ll do the listening to their young problems—you keep their noses and their clothes clean and he’ll keep their minds active. It should work out fine.

  Never tread on this man’s dreams—he won’t forgive that, or forget it. Give him a chance to turn them into realities by helping him find a good, firm star to hitch his wagon to—one that will sparkle instead of fizzling out in an eclipse of common sense. In love, Pisces is a leaner emotionally, which means he needs boundless reassurance and faith, but it also means you mustn’t lean on him with imaginary complaints. His enthusiastic hopes need to be watered with understanding affection, and make sure you supply the rich soil of a happy home life. Keep the deadly insects of nagging and criticism away from the roots, and someday those wild and crazy hopes of his will change from useless weeds into tall money trees in the backyard, high enough to reach a few of your own private dreams. Hope springs eternal in the Piscean heart. Don’t knock it. It may shower you with some gigantic and surprising luck if you nurture it tenderly.

  You may have heard or read that Pisces is the sign of “self-undoing,” and that could make you all nervous and negative, but don’t let it frighten you. True, there’s always a bit of self-undoing in all Neptune men, but just “do him back up again,” like you would a package that comes untied. If you make the knots tight enough, it won’t happen often. Serve him a dream for breakfast, a clever joke for lunch, and Chopin for dinner, with a Browning poem for a chaser. After that, you’re on your own. Don’t be afraid to jump in. The water’s fine.

  The PISCES Woman

  “Well, What are you?” said the Pigeon.

  “I can see you’re trying to invent something!”

  “I—I’m a little girl,” said Alice, rather doubtfully.

  She found herself at last in a beautiful garden,

  among the bright flower-beds and the cool fountains.

  The line forms to the right. And please don’t crowd. There may not be enough Pisces women for every man, but that’s no reason to be unruly. You’ll have to take your turn, and hope for the best.

  Even without astrology, rumors have spread about the charms of a Pisces female. She has her negative points, to be sure, but at first glance, she’s every man’s grade school valentine, with maybe just a touch of a Playboy bunny to add some pepper. We might as well admit that the modern, emancipated woman, with her cast-iron image, has made the Pisces woman’s value shoot even higher. With all that freedom from the feminine mystique clouding the air over lover’s lane, the demure, pretty, helpless Neptune creature has to beat off the men with big sticks.

  It’s hardly surprising that she’s at a premium. The Neptune female seldom tries to overshadow her man, married or single. She hasn’t the slightest hidden, neurotic desire to dominate him in any way. He can pull out her chair, put on her coat, whistle for the taxi, light her cigarette and talk about how wonderful he is to his heart’s content. All she wants is that he should protect her and care for her. She’s happily content to lean on his big broad shoulder and let him know, with wide-eyed wonder, how strong he is, and how much she needs him in this scary world. Just think of all those wolves out there, waiting to devour Red Riding Hoods. It’s enough to make a woman get out her smelling salts. Even if she isn’t quite as Victorian as all that (though plenty of female fish are), she’ll be a charming listener to all his troubles, and what is referred to as a good egg through every crisis.

  A Pisces woman thinks her mate, lover, boy friend, brother, father—in fact, any man—can lick the whole world with one hand tied behind his back, and it takes a surprisingly small amount of her touching faith to convince them of the same thing, men being the way they are. And you wonder why she’s so popular? The Pisces woman is a cozy, calm haven of tranquility for her proud male, far from the noise of the traffic and the ticker tape machines. The lights in her fish pond are soft and dim. They soothe tired eyes which have been blasted by neon and all those silly little figures at the stock market she couldn’t understand to save her life. (Though if it would really save her life, she would sharpen her pencil.)

  In the winter she wears fluffy angora mittens. In the spring she wears floral dresses. Summers will find her in a brief bikini. In the fall she’ll look adorable sitting beside you at football games, with her hands in your pockets to keep them warm, and asking you the score. She is eternally feminine in all seasons. At the risk of making an understatement, men are drawn to her like bumblebees to a honey pot.

  A short conversation with her, and a man instantly relaxes. He pictures a glowing, crackling fire on a chilly night, or he sees himself in a hammock on a balmy spring day, with no one to nag him. She makes it clear that she’ll never blame him for any problems in his career or any accidental mistakes. It’s always someone else’s fault. Not her man’s. She’ll never press
him to get ahead faster. His own pace is perfect with her. Need I explain why the female fish makes the most dangerous other woman of all the Sun signs? Flash! Maritime warning: After marriage she may nudge a little. To be truthful, she may nudge a lot. In a way, it serves you right for letting yourself be so blinded by her charms. Lots of times she’ll even be bitterly sarcastic, but every woman has to have some flaws, and the Pisces woman will be gentle far more often than she’s quarrelsome. She has to be goaded by extreme cruelty or laziness in a mate to be a shrew—and who’s to say a cruel or lazy husband doesn’t deserve it? Not me. I’m with her.

  Besides, her delectable femininity covers any minor deficiencies, and most of the time, the typical Neptune female is soft, dreamy and womanly. Since the fish swims in both directions at once, she adapts beautifully and quietly to conflicting situations that would turn other women into nervous Nellies. Of course, now and then, some cranky words and irritable chatter may bubble up from her normally placid stream of thought. Occasionally a sensitive Neptune female who has suffered harsh treatment at an early age, will allow bitterness to break the two symbolic fish of her sign apart—and this can be very sad. She becomes a lonely, miserable Piscean, always swimming furiously, and meeting herself everywhere she dives down to escape—never realizing that the turning inward of her endless love and sympathy toward herself is the real poison. Drugs and drink and false illusions hide the truth from her, and blind her to the rocks in the river that might destroy her. But the average Neptune female keeps both symbolic fish joined firmly together in smooth action, gliding softly first back, then a little forward, so you’re never quite sure exactly which way she’s headed. Pisces is said to be a deep, mysterious sea, into which all rivers flow. You’ll have a better chance of catching her if you know some of her elusive secrets. What makes her swim?

  First of all, she’s subtle. Ask David Shaw, Cheryl Howard, David Gest and Shakira Baksh—each of whom have been married to Pisceans Glenn Close, Ron Howard, Liza Minnelli and Michael Caine respectively. She is not only subtle, she’s sometimes a bit deceptive when she practices her art of wrapping you around her emerald earrings.

  Now, you may know a Neptune lady who wears a gingham apron and a shy smile, and who is the epitome of the devoted wife, homemaker and tender mother. You’re thinking that she’s neither subtle nor deceptive. Forgive my directness, but you are wrong. As for that Pisces lady you think is different, I know her, too, or one just like her. She’s a widow, who lives in the Bronx, and her name is Pauline. She also wears a gingham apron and a shy smile—the whole setup. How can such a Fannie Farmer image be subtle or deceptive? I’ll tell you. First of all, she wraps everyone around her apron strings. (She doesn’t have any emerald earrings. Next year, maybe.) She’s a short woman, who has managed to stand up to the loss of a dear child, heartbreak, boredom, tragedy, fear, poverty, and even the confusion of sudden, very brief riches. She’s coped with little boys’ bruised knees, braces, lost galoshes; a husband’s sloppy Sunday cookins in her neat kitchen—and the biggest mixture of in-laws—all speaking eight languages at once—you ever saw outside the United Nations. She has faced all this mishmash of fate like Rocky Graziano. That’s gentle? That’s delicate? To this very moment, her two sons think of her as a charming, girlish, helpless, fluttery and soft little creature, who needs to be protected, and who can’t quite understand how the lock works on the front door.

  She’s delightfully vague and dreamy. She doesn’t know a thing about economics, but she manages to dress as though she was turned out by Sophie of Saks, cook frequent seven-course dinners for assorted grandchildren, pay the rent on time, and send exquisite gifts on holidays and birthdays—all on a monthly income about the size of one of the late Jack Benny’s tips. She has the open love and affection of two daughters-in-law, and an incongruous group made up of the librarian, the super, the owner of the corner deli, the fruit man, half a dozen stray cats and children, the butcher, the newsboy, and would you believe it, even the landlord. She may have one enemy. The man she turned down before she married her husband. He probably joined the Foreign Legion in disappointment, and now I doubt if she even remembers his name. Heartless females, these Pisces women. Subtle and deceptive. (But don’t try to tell their neighbors that.)

  Like the March winds, your Pisces woman will have many a mood. She’s terribly sentimental, and when her feelings are wounded, she can cry buckets. She’ll look at you so reproachfully you’ll feel as if you’d just shot a small rabbit. Pisces females sometimes get the idea they’re hopelessly unequipped for the fierce battles and driving ambition required to survive. Then deep depression sets in. At these times, you’ll have to tell her she’s admired for her deep, mysterious wisdom and her blessed understanding by every single human she has ever graced with her friendship. It’s usually the gospel truth. The hardest lesson she has to learn is to overcome her timidity and her doubts. If the fears go deep, she’ll shut herself off from others, then wonder why she’s lonely. She’s often afraid of imposing, pushing too hard, taking advantage, when such thoughts are in no one’s head but hers.

  Now and then a Pisces will cover her shyness and vulnerability with wisecracks, a sophisticated veneer and a frigid independent personality, but it’s merely a cloak of protection, worn to hide her uncertainty from the prying eyes of rough people, who would bruise her gentle heart if she exposed it. I know one who pours out her real soul by writing lovely song lyrics, with a secret message woven in the shades of her soft, very private dreams. When she’s not writing, she’s the picture of the brittle, callous, career woman she wants people to see. Yet, even this type of Pisces is unable to fight her Sun sign. With all her make-believe independence she waits on the curb and lets the man whistle for the cab. There are some things one just doesn’t do, as far as Neptune women are concerned; not acting like a lady in public is one of them. She fools a lot of men who could quiet her inner fears and make her take back her frequent claim of, “Who needs a husband? They only mess up your life.” Imagine a statement like that from a Piscean, who needs to belong to someone more than she needs to sleep, eat or breathe.

  A Pisces woman will give all of her heart to her children, except for the large chunk she saves for you. She’ll love them all, but the ones who are uglier, weaker, smaller or sicker may have a slight edge with her. Only a Pisces movie star would pass up the little dimpled darlings and adopt a tiny, crippled tot with frightened eyes. Female fish are the greatest women in the world for understanding the shyness of small boys and the growing pains of awkward, adolescent girls. A Piscean mother spins a thousand wispy, cobweb dreams over each bassinet. She’ll sacrifice anything so her children can have what she was denied as a child. She may be too permissive. Administering discipline is difficult for her, and she must realize that a lack of firmness is often as bad as severe neglect. In a way, it is neglect, of building the small characters in her care, who need firm guidance to learn to swim alone. If she’s guilty of too much softness, explain it to her kindly. She’ll comprehend without bitterness, and begin to give the hairbrush a workout. Still many Neptune mothers manage a happy medium between discipline and kindness, and their offspring do them credit.

  A Pisces woman will gladly let you earn the bacon and eggplant. She’ll probably prefer not to enter the brutal competition of the commercial world, unless you desperately need her to. She had enough of that (if she’s a typical Neptune female) when she worked for that big, confusing company while she was waiting for you to rescue her. Some, not all, but some Pisces women are a wee, little bit extravagant. She may need some help figuring out why the bank’s balance doesn’t reconcile with her stubs, written in Sanskrit. Still, when an emergency forces her to adapt her champagne taste to a skim milk pocketbook, she’ll manage.

  She listens to the ocean, and it tells her things. In the midst of the city, she still hears the waves of Neptune, whispering to her Pisces heart more, perhaps, than she wants to know. Don’t forget her birthday or your anniversary or the day
you proposed. She won’t. I’ll always remember the Pisces friend I went to school with in West Virginia. She was tiny, with long, dark hair and those strange Neptune lights in her greenish brown eyes. She married (among several other men) a big football star; it was a totally unexpected elopement. I remember when she asked him why he proposed. She was curious. “Well,” he told her, “it was the funniest thing, Shorty. I didn’t have the slightest idea of proposing that day. We were in the park, near the pool. The chicks who were lying around getting a tan had wet, stringy hair from swimming, and they looked all hot and sweaty on the benches. You were sitting there under that tree in a white lace dress, and you looked so cool and different from the others. You looked like—well, I guess you sorta looked like a girl.” That’s the subtle secret of the Pisces woman. Whether she follows Neptune’s call as a dedicated nun in a convent or as a sultry songstress in a noisy nightclub—she’s feminine. Ultra feminine. One hundred percent.

  The PISCES Child

  Eager eye and willing ear,

  Lovingly shall nestle near.

  In a Wonderland they lie,

  Dreaming as the days go by,

  Dreaming as the summers die:

  Ever drifting down the stream

  Lingering in the golden gleam—

  Life, what is it but a dream?

  Most babies, as everyone knows, were found under a cabbage leaf. A few are carried in that long diaper, hanging from the stork’s bill or were brought to the hospital in the doctor’s black bag. Not your little Pisces bundle. He came straight from fairyland, clutching a moonbeam. If you look closely, you’ll still see the reflection of elves and magic wishing trees in his dreamy little eyes, maybe even a trace of Stardust smudged behind his left ear. His wings may have disappeared by the time he gets to the delivery room, but there’s probably a small bump where they were once fastened.