Fishing Guide to the Stars
By Kramer Wetzel
(c) 2008-2009 Kramer Wetzel for astrofish.net
For the week starting: 2.5.2009
"Thou lily-livered boy."
Shakespeare’s Scottish Play (MacBeth) [V.iii.15]
MacBeth to the help — MacBeth himself not afraid of the onslaught of invaders since MacBeth trusted the ghosts. Didn’t end happily for him.
Aquarius: Carrot juice and espresso. Must be the airport. Any airport will do. I suppose, that airports are no more than train station of this century, and for that matter, train stations were no more than carriage stations of the previous, and I’m not sure how much further back I can carry the analogy. Airports and Stage Coach Stations?
While I doubt that most folks purchase carrot juice and espresso at the airport, after long years on short flights, I’ve found that it seems to be the best solutions to whatever it is that ails the situation. Then, too, I was thinking about that carrot juice as I read the label, "100% PURE Carrot Juice, impeller pressed," then it said something about the environment, which, to be honest, I had to question.
It was in an airport, and the juice was in a disposable, non-returnable plastic bottle. The espresso was in styrofoam cup, again, about as far from the eco-friendly stuff as I like, but there are times when it’s just easier to not argue. Or think. Pretty much the case in Aquarius. with everything that’s hitting, all at once?
Stop. Don’t think about it. I’d get your version of carrot juice and espresso, and I’d settle down in the Aquarius version of the airport seating, and I’d resign myself to the fates for the afternoon. Not all bad, just a little different. Whatever beverage, or combination, works for you. Carrot juice and espresso, though, it’s a good one.
Pisces: I was talking fishing and a female client overheard some of the discussion. Me and a buddy were talking about how to set-up a certain fishing pole/fishing reel combination, especially for skinny water. My buddy looked up, saw the girl listening, and explained, "’Set your drag,’ doesn’t mean cross-dressing." Perfunctory roll of the eyes. Clearly a case where crossing-dressing and fishing share some words, but the meaning is entirely different, hence the problem, or the raised eyebrows, or, at the very least, it leaves folks wondering a little.
While the woman who overheard our conversation wasn’t a Pisces, she could’ve been. It’s the sort of problem that occurs, when everything is lined up in Aquarius, and it’s almost — but not quite — Pisces time. I’m just suggesting that you can raise an eyebrow, roll your eyes, or do some other silent notion or motion, but I’d keep quiet. There are times when you can make a fuss, and there are times when you can’t. This is one of the times to be quiet. Unlike the drag on the fish reel, which was screaming as the line played out.
Aries: Happened a few years ago, when I lived in a real trailer park. One of the neighbors knocked on the door and entered. I was typing way — or gazing at the star chart — trying to figure out how to express the Aries energy this week. Would’ve been a warm winter day in late January.
"Hey, look at these, which one works better?" It was a question about shoes and outfits. A question I was ill-prepared for at that time. For that matter, it’s still a question I’m ill-prepared to answer. "Don’t you think matching the shoes would look better?" I think that was my answer. "I don’t know why I bother to ask you fashion questions!" She stormed out of there.
I am fashion-challenged. Not that it’s an issue, straight-up statement. Never hid that tidbit of data. So the question is, why are you asking me about a fashion choice? Might not be fashion, might be another type of question, but when you clearly ask the wrong person for an opinion, where does it go? Who are you asking and why ask them, that’s the real question. Like, why ask me about fashion?
Taurus: The fashion question came up again, and I was asked about a pair of shoes, like, which pair of shoes went better with the outfit. Job interview or something like that. I think it was a Taurus, this time, the shoe question. I couldn’t resist an answer, "Just put on the red shoes, and tap your heels together, three times." My suggestion wasn’t met with universal acclaim. "I’m interviewing for a new position. Now. I need help, and you’re all I’ve got. What do your precious stars say?"
The stars don’t say one damn thing. I say a lot. Like, I’m not the one to ask for tips about shoes. I know very little about footwear. Sandals? I can help with that. Cowboy boots? Handmade? Sure, I can point in a good direction there. But colors and so forth? Perhaps I’m not the best judge. There’s two parts to the message, just blindly putting faith in "the stars" doesn’t work. Requires some effort on the part of the Taurus, too. Then again, I never did understand why so much effort was spent on footwear. I tend towards practical or historical, without a lot of room in between. The second point I was trying to make, maybe it works in the movies, but ruby red pumps? Clicking your heels together three times? Will that solve a problem?
Gemini: There’s a Capricorn songwriter and performer that I’m rather fond of. However, for all the diversity of his canon, he’s still only known for about three songs. One, in particular, a local anthem to the point it’s been spoofed by other singers and song writers. Kind of a sore point, maybe, with the original artist. In other cases, though, I’d have to wonder.
As a Capricorn, he must appreciate the fact that the songs are continuing to earn him income. As an artist, you have to wonder why those three songs were selected out of a diverse and amazing catalog. What was it that clicked? Lyrical? Musical? As Gemini heads towards the Full Moon, there’s a question that no one bothered to ask, or even think of, and I’m here to remind you. Okay, that one artist, he’s doing okay, but did he think that those songs would be the "big three" of his career?
How about, every time he plays, he’s got to play all three of those hits? Be a little bothersome, to say the least? As the Moon approaches Full, in Leo, opposite all that Aquarius stuff, consider how a seemingly casual item might become a staple for the next 20 years. Could span all your adult Gemini career. Is that a song you really want to perform for that long? You do know, a Gemini bores easily.
Cancer: There’s a point where the sense get assailed by almost too much input. First time I walked across the ancient brick pavement in front of a certain "mercado," on the way to the famous Tex-Mex restaurant. I recall that first time, parking a couple of blocks away, the long trudge, the way the scent of fried dough, corn meal, really, and skirt steak, stringy and greasy, on a griddle. The smell, a feint hint of garbage in the background, various animal parts deliciously cooking. The way the colors were so vibrant. It was like stepping into another world, and it was merely a quick trip in a tourist end of town.
Not that big of deal, not now, but that first time, it was sensory overload. I can recall the first time, the sights, the site, the smells, the palpable excitement. Hot grease, lard, tortillas, and even a sweet bakery hint layered over the top, the strong vanilla and cinnamon. There’s a sharp, pointed, maybe even poignant experience you’re supposed to recall. For me? It was simply walking up that place, the stroll towards — and through — the little open air marketplace. Subsequent trips are less memorable, but that first time? Remember it. Cherish it. Recall it. There’s a point, a place you want to visit soon.
Leo: Your neighborhood is being exported to the world. I’m sure you’re aware of this. With inter–web things and phones with cameras, it just had to happen. There’s a convergence, where one item is getting cheaper and the other line, where it crosses is that the use is expanding. More people want to know just where you live, and how you live, and what the color was of the shirt you had on last week. Or this week.
There comes a time when not all of this information is germane or even useful. Still, the sign on the parking lot next to the restaurant, that sign which is kind of funny? That’s on the web some place. Not that it matters, but so is the object of the sign, there’s an image of that, too. As The Leo, you love attention. As the Leo, though, you realize that what you had for breakfast isn’t that important. It is to you but maybe not to the rest of us. There’s an editing effort that’s required. What’s important. What’s not. Look around, you’ll find that you live in an increasingly glass-like enclosure. When do you want to pull the shutters down? Just a little?
Virgo: It wasn’t even a paid reading. I was just chatting up a Virgo waitress in a BBQ place. She asked about Virgo and Virgo for a relationship. Told her I thought it was good. "But he’s so anal sometimes, annoys me." I think that the same comment, in a general way, could be said about all Virgo (males). Some of the Virgo females, too. "Oh, no, not me. I’m a messy one," she claimed. The relationship, had a few rocky points as of late, but was basically a sound relationship.
They did belong together, and they can be Virgo-like in the privacy of their own domiciles. I’d suggest that life is good for most Virgo folks, if, and that’s the big "IF" there, you’re on the right track. That Virgo waitress and her Virgo boyfriend? They were a hot couple because their expectations were in line with each other. Similar goals, similar destinations, similar ways of arriving at the same goals and destinations. Worked well, even though, if she was messy and he wasn’t?
There must be some discord. But what’s life without a little strife? Takes all kinds. I suggested that her messy nature fulfilled a need that he perceived, and that’s what made it work. Takes all kinds, but there’s some give — and take. What makes the Virgo world go round.
Libra: No, it’s not a good time, not over-all, but yeah, I’ll give a little nod to the Libra side. There’s just this kind of infectious attitude. It’s like the giggles. Under the covers, on a cold winter’s night, under a big down quilt, there’s a hint that there’s merriment afoot. Less to do with big deals and lot more to do with little deals. Can be something as simple as the littlest of functions. I’m always amazed at how little items can mean so much.
Sometimes it’s not the big deals, it’s the little deals. I tend to be cheap. Not because I am cheap, well, I am, but that’s not the reason why I use this as an example. It’s not always the big deals, the big-ticket items that make the difference. That’s the point. This might seem silly, but there’s a new book out, and i picked up a copy for my Libra friend. Book was steeply discounted, so I wasn’t out anywhere near the retail price; although, in my defense, I did peel off the price tag.
No, it wasn’t the fact that I bought the little Libra a nice book, it was the idea that I remembered who the favorite author was. Made all the difference. It’s not big things, it’s little things, makes all the difference. That’s what will make a Libra smile in the coming week. Just a little gesture. And sometimes, what makes a Libra smile?? In turn, that’s a good action to take, as well.
Scorpio: Flight was somewhere, New Mexico, be my guess, but it could be anyplace in my world. There was cold winter wind with tendrils of smoke edging eastward like fog with feathered tips exploring, even caressing, the mountains and canyons. Tickling their ways westward. Eastward. I don’t recall.
The sight reminded me of Scorpio, inching along, precipitously, dangerously close and yet, trying to be as stealthy as Scorpio possible. Kind of a difficult task.
When I was at whatever altitude a commercial jet travels at, over the planet, looking down, I could easily see those long, smoky tendrils inching their ways along. Maybe pilots see this all the time. It was a rare sight for me. I enjoyed it. And that little tickle, that "no one is watching me" but everyone is? That’s the Scorpio thing.
Sagittarius: In keeping with the web-based theme of "national write a novel month," and "record an album month," this is the time when I’m opening up the scopes — especially my own, dear Sagittarius, and it’s an invitation to write your own scope.
Instead of writing a novel (50-100K words), instead of recording an album (10 or more songs, and/or 35-50 minutes of original music), all I’m asking from Sagittarius is a short, say, 200 words excerpt for the next month. For February. Four short weeks. That’s only about 800 words. Maybe a thousand, as Sagittarius, we’re a little long winded.
Couple of pitfalls to avoid: no mention of foreign travel, or even travel in general, no mention of long-lost loves, old flame, no mention of new flame, either. No mention of boss or work. Can’t promise love-money-happiness, unless, of course, it’s indicated. Easy as can be, right? So get after it. There’s a chance to write your own horoscope and email it to me. Two points that must be avoided: silly horoscope tropes and sad country/western songs. Both sound the same. So get after, you get to choose.
Just for the heck of it, I wrote something. Useful, in a way, since it really made me look at the two squares.
See attached. A lot harder than I thought it would be.
"First week of February
May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be always at your back.
Pluto and Neptune are driving along roads which will intersect at 90° around June 2009. One car is driven by Mr. Illusion; the other by Mr. Underworld. Sagittarius will find him (her) self under the influence of subconscious forces which seem to challenge all those ruts in the road (habits and relationships, i.e. the old order). The illusion is that the driver is in control; in reality, change will happen and you can either drive along with it or get a rough ride if you fight it. The hard part is the self-doubt that comes along with it, as square Mr. Saturn turns up all too soon in the passenger seat, telling you that you should be doing second gear instead of third and a smoother clutch, please. Don’t let him rattle you and make you anxious; you can deal with it just fine. The road will rise up to meet you; the winds of change will be at your back."
Capricorn: It’s the middle of a long winter month for me. Long winter for me. In a few weeks, the first shoots of spring will begin stirring, south of here. Wildflowers and spring growth starts soon enough, but for now, I’m still forced to wear long pants and customary boots. I was looking at another sad pair of cowboy boots that I must retire. Supple, delicate European Goatskin uppers, hand-crafted in Texas, handmade, and I’ve owned these custom made boots for over a decade. And they’ve worn out.
Worn out from wearing and walking, Like a good pair of shoes should wear out. Been resoled a dozen times, and I kept them oiled and polished. But I’m also notoriously hard on equipment, and the boots are done. There’s a tear in the leather, and while I’ve had the boots repaired a half-dozen times? It really is time to retire. Which is part of what this is all about. Time to retire, like my boots, time to unload, offload, or otherwise load-away a treasured object. I’d like to do something special with what’s left, but let’s face it, sentimental value doesn’t outweigh closet space these days.
