The Bogart moon, and dad's nose.

Last week, while my back was turned, my progressed Moon flipped into Capricorn. Guess that explains my sudden insatiable urge to watch Humphrey Bogart movies over the New Year's weekend: Bogie was a Cap.

And so was my dad, who would have turned 79 years old today. Like Bogie, Dad was a man's man, a hard-ass, no bullshit, hard-drinkin', hard-workin' tough guy who turned to goo when it came to the women in his life. I guess I'm a lot more like him as I get older; the other day, at the end of one of my epic rants about some thing or other - the ones that are more and more frequent and vicious - I paused and observed, "Gee, I'm a lot more intolerant than I thought. I hate everybody!" "Who'd you get that from?" Jonny asked. And I realized that I seem to have inherited a bit of dad's hard streak, along with his nose.

Guess I've got 2.5 pr. Moon in Capricorn years to come to terms with that, maybe find a way to funnel it into strength instead of flintiness.

I think I'll hang on to some of dad's cynicism, though. For instance: Nice to see the administration got off its Scroogey collective ass and increased its aid to the Tsunami survivors. How long do you reckon it'll take until Halliburton gets handed a nice, juicy contract to rebuild Thailand?