Now Is My Time

Except it might not be. Thanks to - or rather, no thanks to - the J-Walk Blog, I've discovered that my zodiac sign has changed, and maybe yours too, because they correspond to the position of the sun relative to constellations as they appeared over 2200 years ago! And the earth wobbles.

I was informed nearly 40 years ago that this was the dawning of my age and having lived this long as an Aquarian, which has meant having an artistic temperament, great intuition and intelligence, a social conscience, and a tolerance of others until they piss me off, then watch out, oh boy, so why should I change now?

There's no way I can be a Capricorn, "a sure-footed Mountain Goat", because I have weak ankles, an Aquarian trait mark.

What's more, as a typical Aquarian, I don't believe in astrology, so screw the universe, I'm going to give it continue giving astrology a myth.

Later - please

And the later the better. However, there will come a time when I'm raised on high to be greeted by the 72 virgins who, knowing my luck, will the same Catholic nuns waiting for the three Bali bombers due to meet their maker next week.

I digress, although death and how we deal with it is this topic. When my time comes, depending on the place, I don't want a grave in an urban cemetery, but would wish to return to the soil - dust to dust, or, if it's considered that I've been a bad boy-man, then consign me to the crematorium fires of hell - ashes to ashes.

The passing of a friend, killed by a passing motorist when cycling home one night, is marked by a bench for hill walkers to rest on in the Lake District of northern England, a good place to wash one's brain and respect one's place in the greater scheme of things.

Compare that with Jakarta's latest family attraction, a 500ha park complete with basketball court, swimming pool, Italian restaurant and man-made lake with an unusual feature: it is actually a cemetery.

The developer of San Diego Hills park, an hour's drive from the city, claims this is the world's first graveyard with recreational facilities, the aim being to create a cemetery catering as much to the living as to the dead.

All in all, San Diego Hills seems to have hit on a winning formula, at least as far as Ms Hanna Angkasali, a career woman in her early 30s, is concerned.

"This is different: common cemeteries are dirty and full of beggars."

Beggars can't be choosers as they have bugger all.

Whereas there are buggers who beggar belief
 

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