Are the stars out tonight?

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I had a birthday this week which means, I’m sure, that right now The Queen will be preparing my telegram and you’ll be picking flowers and buying presents, maybe even sending round a singing lap dancer or two. But, although my birthday’s special to me, it’s not really that unique is it?

Dividing the world’s population by fifty two means that I and one hundred and twenty eight million other people have been blowing out candles over the past seven days. That’s more wind than on a wind farm in a windy place, surrounded by fields of the world’s windiest cows drinking Guinness and fizzy water.

As a twin, I’ve always been used to sharing my birthday with someone else and I’ve also gained a brother in law with the same birthday and a work colleague born on exactly the same day, same year. So I have no problem sharing my special day with millions of others. What I find I don’t want to share is time with people who believe in astrology, expecting me and these others to share similar traits. Mind you, I might admit to having some things in common with other Geminis. I, of course, share my musical talent with Bob Dylan, my bum with Kylie Minogue, my charisma with John F Kennedy and sense of reality with Boy George.

The fact we were all born when Mars and the Moon were in their honeymoon phase and Pluto rose in Goofy’s house, should mean that I and five hundred and fifty eight million other people born in June all have the same characteristics. If it’s true then we’re all headed for a global chocolate shortage and a blog glut, but at least my wife will always find someone who fancies her wherever she travels.

The thing about star signs is that they give people the excuse for bad behaviour; they are a rule book for the unconfident. Perhaps I have offended you as you really do believe in all this horoscopes stuff and, if so, I apologise. But I can’t help it, it’s because I’m a Gemini. See what I mean?

On my birthday I made sure to check the personal, day specific, prediction on my newspaper horoscopes page and I read that I was going to waken up “refreshed, craving a new start and rushing to interact with people in a new way forward. Ring this number for more details at seventy five pence per minute.” I’m sure the accuracy of the horoscope would have had me rushing to the ‘phone immediately except that I woke up having caught a virus and was ill in bed feeling far from refreshed, craving new sheets rather than a new start, and the only person I interacted with all day was Thomas Crapper as I offered prayers of thanks to him for his porcelain invention.

The French football coach Raymond Domenech swears by astrology and makes his decisions based on the star alignments. Last week his team crashed embarrassingly out of the European Championships putting his job on the line and he then proposed live on TV to his girlfriend. Well, chalk up two big failures to astrology as the girlfriend was so embarrassed by the world wide attention she has refused to give him an answer. Perhaps she hadn’t read her boyfriend’s horoscope.

The biggest fan of the industry was Diana, Princess of Wales who had her own personal astrologers. They believe she was destined for sainthood as she had a cross shaped astrology pattern when she was born. It’s what she would have wanted.

When she married there was a solar eclipse and when she separated there was a lunar one, and going to the bible, to Joshua 9:20 – Judges 1:7 astrologer T Chase has found the words Diana, Death, Paris, Princess and Osama hidden in the text, leading to the possibility that Bin Laden was responsible for her demise. Perhaps Miss Chase will appreciate my own extensive research which has led me to the book of Harry Potter where you’ll find hidden the words Chase, Nonsense, Get, Real and Certifiable.

If all this astrology thing works then I should find lots in common with people born on my birthday, June 19th, so I checked to see who shares the great day with me. I wondered what a dinner party featuring some of this exclusive club, with only eighteen million, three hundred and forty five thousand living members, would be like. Obviously we’d all like the same foods and background music, but would we have anything to talk about or end up simply finishing off each others’sentences?

The invitation list makes for interesting speculation, but I can see problems. If I invite Paula Abdul then the booze bill might be a little high. If I go for Salman Rushdie then security would be an issue, we’d have to hide all the women folk, and the conversation would centre around Rushdie talking about Rushdie. Then there’s Boris Johnson, the new London mayor, but I don’t speak Latin.

So, I can’t see much in common with my fellow birthday owners and I’m very happy about that. Just think, if you did behave in a similar way to the fellow inmates of your astrology house, Taureans might be worried about sharing with Adolf Hitler, Pisceans with mad monk Rasputin, Sagittarians with Mass murderer Josef Stalin and ditto for Aquarians with Robert Mugabe.

If your birthday is coming soon then I wish the very best to you and the millions of others sharing your day. What will make it very special is that we are all individuals. Thank God, rather than horoscopes, for that.