I’ve always had a bit of contempt for the pseudo-science of “astrology.” The idea that the timing of one’s birth could have any shape on one’s personality, or that it would have a unifying effect on fate, is absurd.
That being said, I’ve noticed that the month of my birth has been a bit of a unifying factor in my life.
When I was growing up, my best friend was born two days after me. My current best friend is exactly one year and ten days older than I am. And yesterday, I found out that Laurence Simon is exactly two years and two weeks younger than I am.
October was also the date of the two great US stock market crashes, and the anniversary of the founding of the United Nations. (Ironically, my birthday commemorates the crash of 1929 and the UN founding date, much to my chagrin).
October very well could rival April’s reputation as “the cruelest month…”