There are no certificates of astrological achievement on my wall, just enough suffering to seek answers and enough fateful meandering to help find a few. And anyone can be starstruck anywhere at any time, without even looking up. So this is my story. Please forgive my nostalgic indulgence. It's a slippery slope. And you won't miss anything if you skip it.

So the stars struck in my 14th summer, on a cool, fateful day in Woolworths. My big sister Anne and I were wandering the aisles when a tall, shiny weight scale called to us and we approached, lean and unafraid.

It offered up a zodiac scroll, my first, and I anxiously unfurled this curled enigma....."Your perfect mate is Gemini" it began....."Johnny is a Gemini!" Annie blared and I knew we'd found the Holy Grail.

Six months later Johnny was long forgotten when Annie blew my tiny mind with the hot blue bestseller Linda Goodman's Sun Signs. So beautifully written and so brutally true it's laugh-out-loud funny. And it fully ignited the New Age.

Total gamechanger. I finally knew it's only natural to be me and not "more like your sweet, QUIET little sister.." who scripted our family chaos by assigning me the scapegoat role. I was no match for this whopper weaver and fell into every trap like an outraged lion. The loudest is baddest and she was a church mouse. It's only natural to be her, too.

So I clung to my star bible like a lifeline through the first years of high school. "What's your sign?" I asked the friendly faces and read to whoever indulged me, hundreds between school and the city buses alone. Good times.

The 70s were a heady time and Anne and I hit some of the hottest lekshiz in and around Hahvid Squeya. So we lucked into a lecture with Ms Isabel Hickey, who singled me out for a public dissection. At barely seventeen it was a mortifying intro to my inner mechanics and a deep EUREKA! Moment.

In a burst of serendipity in 1974, NYC radio astrologer Paul Guercio came to our scruffy city, settling in just down the road from Friendly's. And we were two Friendly girls looking for a little enlightenment.

So Paul showed up at our double doors like hardcore javaheads do, and we pumped him with free refills as he leaked his scheme in his booming vocals. He'd burn the Cosmic Muffin (no buttah) and show Boston how a real astrologer operates. And then we heard these fateful words: "Come to my classes, girls. I'm just down the road and I bet you two love floor pillows." Well duh.
Yes he was but no he didn't.

So we sauntered down to 83 Sycamore to expand our minds in cozy comfort. Life was good and I almost knew it.

Paul and I were roomies. I booked his consults and he mentored me for four instructive years. Annie went off to make babies and awhile later I did too. Paul said it's what Somerville townies do. I took it as a compliment.

And in our roomie days I'd seen his burnout after so many consults, when desperate seekers bled him dry, and I knew it wasn't for me. I struggled to steer my own life, let alone anyone else's. So I pondered a different path, where astrology was still my destination.

Teaching was my first dream and a how-to book could fit the bill. I'd simplify the basics and map out the landscape so no one would get lost in the weeds. And none of the usual eye rolls and head spins or just forget the whole thing.

Imagine you've walked your 1000 acres 1000 times with only your memory to guide you. Then you're handed a detailed map and discover that your little hill is actually a deep cavern with a singing waterfall, dancing emeralds and an endless pot of gold. So what are you going to do about it?

So it's '91 and my family is settled in Lexington, when a Good man blows into town to open a print shop called Copy Plus. Exactly what I need to duplicate my prototype and try my hand at computering. Three seasons later this Triple Aries Mac Wizard woos me into his arms and my feet stop touching the ground.

Fourth dimensional rendering

More time passed and the Wizard taught me vital computer skills. So I built my site and did a (very) little writing as we raised our beautiful blended family of six. And our beautiful boy made seven, emerging on the summer solstice like he was having second thoughts and inspiring my first astro tools. Life was Good man.

MEANWHILE back in '93...
Paul was forecasting politics when a government physicist made him an offer he should've refused: guide his programmer to develop a forecasting graph. So TimeTraks resulted and the two made the media rounds as the Merlin Project. That was Paul's reward; the physicist had what he came for.

In 2016 Paul hired me to deal with a flood of inquiries after their TimeTraks forecasted a Trump-Sanders face-off no one else saw coming. But old Bernie backed away and not even a ruthless will can trump a low energy TimeTrak.
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In 2019 Paul died after a devastating betrayal and the physicist departed with the TimeTraks. Paul left the world a little wiser and no one can take that from anyone. And he taught his students to keep it simple to make astrology more accessible and no less profound. His friendship and coattails are missed.

Thanks for slogging through.