I have a friend who is involved or rather associated with a man who finds women everywhere he goes. He finds surrogates, specifically, and it’s just amazing. He finds these women…or they find him and form a line, hoping to satisfy this man’s needs.
And there’s nothing you can do with something like this except watch it… and people do. Women don’t really compete. Instead they comment to each other… “Look how many mothers he has he…” The man is in his 40s and anyway, I told him this story…
When my daughter was a baby… about 3 years old, she liked to ride those mechanical ponies in grocery stores. Around here, they’re a pretty penny, which I think is great. One hundred and you can buy something worth having.
So one day, after paying for my purchases, we went to the pony according to our ritual and found it occupied. There was a little boy on the pony… dark haired, grinning and seriously overfed. Know. This was a much-loved boy, if you know what I mean. Lots of people do this with their first baby, right? They spoil them. And this particular boy was from a culture where boys are revered… girls not so much.
Anyway, this kid is on the pony and he’s happy. And his mom is cheering for him…she’s raving about her son, to say the least. So these two make a good pair, and the pony stops. Uh-oh!
Kid starts screaming like crazy. The mother looks at me and I keep my face blank. It’s none of my business, is it? She shrugs and puts another penny on the pony, focusing on this little boy…the little prince of hers, clapping and cooing and so on. It’s in his body language to see. He turns a bit so that my daughter and I are erased from the reality of him… some.
Look, it doesn’t matter, my daughter and I are waiting… maybe our ice cream is melting, we’re going to stand there and wait while these two have their… thing.
So the pony gallops and gallops and gallops and the mother coos and coos and the child smiles and smiles and then the pony stops.
No crying this time. She has her mother trained, or so it seems. Because all this kid has to do is look at her expectantly and the next thing you know she’s got another penny and she’s putting it on the pony and she couldn’t believe it.
“This is ridiculous,” I told my daughter. “Something’s wrong here. These people will never get off this pony. I’m sorry, honey, but let’s get out of here. You’ll have to ride next time…”
The mother acted like she was so involved with her son that she couldn’t hear me even though I was standing 3 feet from her. She didn’t even look over her shoulder. And my daughter is a sophisticated chick, don’t think she isn’t. And actually I think she could understand the situation. But anyway, here’s my point:
Little boys with mothers like that grow up to be like this man my friend knows. And they are so deeply crippled. Because the pennies keep coming. And this is what I mean, every blessing is a curse in exact proportion (and vice versa).
Because as far as I’m concerned, this man and that little boy on the pony are the same person. The forty-year-old boy does nothing but wait for various women to deliver what he needs… well, bells. And when one leaves, there are three more waiting. Actually, there are ten more waiting and this kind of tranquility is promised in a natal chart.
I guess that’s why they say Saturn/Capricorn/difficulty builds character. Because if every time you hold out your hand someone fills it up without a second’s delay, you end up looking like an amoeba. You just don’t form or become an adult.
Do you know of any adult whose development is completely arrested in this way? And how would you have handled the pony ride situation?
