Paul A. TOTH

Sagittarius

You focus on serving others and making cash. Don't feel guilty. Wait. A tough assignment is coming next week. Stop. Don't accidentally throw diamonds. Hold it. You'll soon get something you like. One moment. Here's a promise. Some of that old junk is coming your way. Here's what you must do. Give away everything. Here's something else you should do. Give yourself a secret. Don't hesitate. You're not greedy. Know what else? You're cute as a button. Yes, you are. There's one more thing you must do: Complete a household project. Do as I say.

Before you die, you will pilot a B-52. Don't laugh, it's true. I see other things. I see wartime activity for you and something about a bomb. A bomb in a briefcase. The briefcase is under -- under -- no, it's fading. Beware of briefcases. Promise? It was brown, I can tell you that, the briefcase. It will happen after your first time at the controls of the B-52. So don't even worry about it until you've piloted the B-52. That's when it will happen.

Usually I have good news. Here's one thing. You'll marry a Korean woman. It won't last. You will be blown to smithereens in Korea -- North Korea, to be exact. You will be blown to pieces by a bomb in North Korea, after the liberation, but before the robotic soldiers.

Talk to me. I am lonely. Do you know what I used to do for a living? Editorialist. For example: "If we are wrong, we destroy. Inhuman carnage and suffering, history forgives. Babble, frenzy, frenzy, babble. The answer is obvious, the process cumbersome and psychologically painful. There is a better way. We're confused. It is beyond worrisome. Let's rumble."

You know what? Join the Navy, not the Air Force. That could save your life. Actually, forget it. The briefcase will find its way abroad the submarine. Would you rather die in an airport or a submarine?

If you choose the Air Force, the last thing you'll hear is a song by Gordon Lightfoot. You know the one. About the sinking ship. But if you join the Navy, the last thing you'll hear is a different song by Gordon Lightfoot. You know the one. The one about feeling better when you're feeling no pain.

Might I suggest you stop in the third tent on the right? Genie will put your mind at rest. Genie is spiritual. Because you haven't been listening. You'll pick up the briefcase. I just know it.

People will get drunk at your funeral and discuss the situation in Korea. They'll say it's a good thing about the robotic soldiers, that soon there won't be too many more of you--meaning dead soldiers. Well, we knew the day was coming, didn't we? But will we bury the robots with full honors and seven gun salutes? My friend, I cannot see that far. Just remember: Give away everything and don't throw diamonds. Some of that old junk is coming your way. If I were you, I'd enjoy it.