Web Journal astrofish.net for Cancer, 2001:

7/22
There was a lone boat with a couple of fishermen, poking along the river's edge when I stuck my head outside the trailer's door, before sun up on Saturday morning. "What are they fishing for?" Bubba asked, as I crawled in the front seat of his truck, "bodies?" Great day fishing. Didn't get too hot until the sun came up. Venus, Mercury, maybe Jupiter were all up right before sun up. Should have a good picture of me and three pound bass soon. Naturally, according to my fishing buddy, if this had been on TV, that fish would've weighed six pounds, not three. It's the television cameras on those fishing shows — they add weight to the fish. Later, over some Cartright's BBQ in Bastrop, we were discussing women and marriage. "What's the perfect sign for you, you're the astrologer, right?" "I prefer female, upright and breathing. Not sure if a pulse is necessary though, why?" "I think the perfect mate for you is recently divorced or widowed, has a house and a Ranger Bass Boat." The guy might have a point — or a Champion 21 foot Bass boat. Buena Vista Social Club, a Cuban Band from the pre-Castro days? I think, off–hand, the music is Mambo, but I'm not sure. The sweet Pisces turned up a couple of tickets to a show in Houston, and I no sooner got in from fishing than I turned around, headed right back down the same highway, kept on going, and we caught the show last night. Pulling into the parking lot, I noticed a girl with a Capricorn symbol tattooed on her back, which lead to a conversation about the symbol, and the fact that she had red hair. Going into the venue itself, I ran into an old friend from way back when, "Kramer, dude, where's the love?" then the warm up band was the Flatlanders [Joe Ely, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Butch Hancock]. Although we missed most of their set, I did get to hear "Dallas (from a DC–9)" as the closing song. I paid $2.75 for a bottle of water while waiting for the main act, The Buena Vista Social Club. Exciting in a low key way — good tunes. I guess that sort of covers all the cultural diversity I can handle in one day, some fishing, some Latino classics, a little bit of Sonic food for the drive. What was great, besides the music itself, was the apparent age of the band. These guys have been jamming for a long, long time. Too cool.
7/21
Business model. It's a buzz word, and one I've never quite figured out because this site has no coherent plan. It's grown by accretion. [Or it's grown by secretion, or sedation, depends on whom you ask.] I got really good at reading raw log files, two servers ago, but I've gotten tired of trying to track where everyone goes on the web site. Too much effort. I do know there's been a 30% increase in the web traffic as the old publication source gradually drops my stuff. Increase in business hitting the page. But that doesn't pay the server's price tag. The scopes, and the archives, are going to stay freely available, that's for sure. I was walking around yesterday, between Threadgill's, Magnolia and Jo's, doing readings and nodding to folks I know. It's the little things that are supposed to bring a smile:
"The monster's dead. The movie's over." (Back of a T-shirt.)
"You bought it. I can't believe it." (Guy pulling up in a new, blue Lexus SUV.)
"I play a cop. Can you believe that?" (Gemini)
I was almost to Magnolia, and some girl was honking and waving at me from a big, red van, I couldn't see who it was. Told you it was a hot day. When I realized it was that Gemini, I dashed across the traffic to hop in her smoke–filled van. Even from ten meters, the van was belching out incense. We rode around, went to her boyfriend's house, made a few calls, and she dropped me back at the Mag, just in time. "I can't believe it's you," I told her, "I just called and left a message with your boyfriend — your e–mail said you'd be in town this afternoon." South Austin is getting smaller and smaller.
7/20 [Feast Day of St. Wylgeforte — invoked for protection against troublesome husbands]
I still find that Peet's Coffee [Italian Roast] is the finest coffee beans I've ever had the pleasure to grind up, pour boiling water over and force through a filter. Hot sun, sparse shade, but an earlier departure time made for a slightly longer hike in much less time. Got to get back in shape. I should be able to knock out about 7 miles in less than an hour and a half. In the heat. Maybe sneak into some apartment's swimming pool [a good reason to carry a pocket knife]. One of the Bubba's had his wife call me up, "He can go fishing with you, but you've got to promise to come by the house and help with the yardwork — you could do some manual labor." And here I was, thinking that fishing was manual labor.
> I bought some new ear rings you may like. Them's
> fishin lures to me, ear rings to you.
Thanks. What are friends for? Had dinner at Curra's last night, a little late night coffee and conversation at Bouldin Creek Coffee. Too bad they didn't have any more T-shirts, I'd a bought one. On the front, it says, "Caffeine Dealer." Almost as good as my "just married" shirt from Vegas.
7/19 [Commencement of the Dog Days of Summer]
Mars supposedly is turning himself around today. I spent a little too much time yesterday morning, before I had the requisite fourteen cups of coffee — that's just to get me to wake up — compiling a small portion of the e–mail from the last couple of weeks. "History shows again and again how nature points up the folly of men. Godzilla!" [Gratuitous BOC allusion.] Got my heart broke yesterday. Wanted to go fishing, and Bubba cut out last night. "No man, can't go tonight." Like I'm going to drop a line in the river here in front of Shady Acres? I think not — as the Neighbor pointed out, "One of them ducks over yonder has three legs." I hiked the long way around the lake, the eastern loop, hot sun, sparse shade, and then, passing a new taco stand, I opted to try their fare. Comfort food: Barbacoa and Al Pastor — a litmus test for the restaurant. The Al Pastor was excellent, but the Barbacoa wasn't prepared quite right. A little over–cooked in some places, a little too grisly in others. Must've been a hot afternoon, though, as the waitress came back by to check on me, "Aldo mas?" she asked. "Non, c'est bien," I replied. With the various indications poking around at 100, it's a hot summer — looks like I was right in that prediction again. A little bit of Taco Cabana food last night, late night run with a Pisces. Still, that's not the same as fishing, not to me.
7/18
Bush or Chimp? Free stuff: link from the Register, about The Times charging for content. I would, too, except for the administrative headache. Mobile Pants: pants with pockets for everything — electronic. Just need some shorts like this, and I'm good to go. I was talking to my fashion consultant, Bubba, and he asked about the wedding. I explained that if I were to ever tie that knot again, there would be only one place to do it, just like Mr. & Mrs. fredlet: Graceland Chapel in Las Vegas. I mean, it's the only way to get hitched. Makes such am untimely event seem like so much fun. "Yeah, I laughed a lot — it was a happy time," I told him.
> sign: Aries
> TalkToKramer: No ranting here! When I wanted to wring your neck was last New
> Year when you told us what a nasty beginning to the year we Aries would face.
> Or maybe it was Pisces--I read both because I think my rising sign is Pisces.
> Though I dreaded believing you, I did 'cause I generally like your style.
> Since the "cloud" has lifted, I've been remembering how you tried to warn us!
> Brave man! Thanks for your courage!
7/17
Leaving Las Vegas. Sort of sums up the gambling portion of the trip: I was sitting in the lounge, in the Las Vegas Airport, I had my last ten bucks, and I carefully decided which machine to drop it into. One of two. I chose carefully, and that machine ran up a ways, then I lost it all. But next to me, a lady hit the other machine I was thinking about for a quick twenty bucks — in quarters. I didn't want to lug that much metal around with me, anyway. "Yeah, right." Of course, a prolonged losing streak means no casino by the time I get to El Paso. Maybe that's not such a bad thing. The year–long run of luck is gone, or so it would seem. Jupiter has just moved into Cancer, so I guess my luck will run to other avenues. I sure hope so. All day at airports, the flying version of touring the west, near as I can tell. "Out of the left side of the plane, you can see the Grand Canyon." I ran into Neal Kassanoff of Neal Kassanoff fame, on the last plane into Austin. He looked at me, "Aren't you Troy's brother?" "No, just a friend." We wound up chatting about the artistic process, and how Austin has priced itself out of the musicians' market, and the things we've learned on the way. As we passed twin glimmering spots of light on the desert's floor, I pointed out what I thought was Midland and Odessa. "You knew I grew up in Midland?" Neal asked, "Jewish in West Texas...." It's a scary thought. I suspect more will be heard from him before this year is up. But I hit the ground running in Austin. Piles of work and details to attend to.... Still, it was a great wedding. I can hardly wait for the Klingon pictures.
7/16
One of the things I so love about Las Vegas is the raw, untamed energy that flows through everything. It's the noise of the hundreds of slot machines, the cheers from a craps table, or a watching a group of folks win at Wheel of Fortune. There's the downside, the three quarters [the last three quarters of gambling money] that turns into a hundred bucks. Then it all disappears. Weddings — I got the first picture up right here — was a joy–filled affair. I met the wedding couple in the tunnel to the parking garage. I was talking on the phone, and hushed couple walked past me, "Did you see that!" [obviously referring to tablecloth wrapped around my waist to look like a skirt] "It's okay, honey, that's normal around here." Then it was the chapel, Elvis impersonator as the official, stay tuned for live video soon, and then it was off to the Star Trek Experience for the reception. Sounds a lot like last year. While most of the party went on the ride, I lingered over food and slot machines with the newly remarried fredlet, and watched as I did it twice, ran a couple of quarters up into some big bucks, only to lose it all again. The ride, whatever that was, must've been fun as the rest of the wedding party spent hours coming and going, telling us about all sorts of fun things that happened. Oh yes, I did try to scam a Klingon mistress. She wouldn't break character, so I never found out what her real birthday was. Pretty ugly makeup. Would've been a new low for me. One of the Neighbor's affectations for me is "Worf." Says I look like the character he's seen on TV. In light of that, I figured I was natural for the Klingon babe. Didn't work. Might have been my dress I was wearing.
7/15
Coherence is not part of the game plan in Vegas. I guess I forgot to consider that. Forget to bring my extra good luck and my extra cash. Good thing I've got a deck of Tarot cards, might be doing readings in the airport for coffee and cab fare. I did succeed in turn 75 cents into 20 dollars — that the allure. But the rest of the story isn't as hopeful.
7/14
2.5 miles, swing by the bank, and head to the airport. Wedding ring, had to slide that on before I left for Vegas, don't want any mistakes. I'm rather enjoying the caricatures that Capricorn is doing of me. There's a Dr. Suess quality to some of the details, and everyone would agree that's very appropriate for me. I forgot how much fun Las Vegas is, or how early the sun comes up, or how all the slot machines are rigged to make me lose money eventually. Now, according to Ma Wetzel, pigs are supposed to be lucky animal, but the Piggy Bank machine kept sucking me in, and I'd make a pile of quaters only to see them all disappear again. Jupiter changed its sign — went into Cancer — but that didn't change up my luck enough last night. I need fredlet to bless the lucky quaters again.
7/13
First it's a "7–11" date then a "Friday the Thirteenth." Then that Virgo dude called me to give me the news: "Travelers' advisory for Las Vegas — 106 degrees yesterday." [And no, I'm not getting married in Las Vegas!] What a day to be traveling. But, persistence, hard work, and lots of early morning phone calls paid off. "No, it's NOT an Airstream trailer, but it looks like one, got that?" I got my package, no thanks to the local delivery guy. Less than 24 hours to go from California to Indiana, then to Austin's airport. More than 72 hours to go from the "management's office" to my trailer. More than 3,000 miles in less than 24 hours, more than 72 hours to go less than 300 meters. Ain't technology grand? I'm thinking that a real Pony Express might be more marketable and more reliable. I had lunch at Threadgill's, dinner at Magnolia, and a long, meandering wander home from the Mag. I detoured on a jaunt which took me through some woods, and along a dry creek bed. I've been meaning to note the song of the cicadas at night, in the twilight, but no time was it more pronounced than at dusk.
7/12
The cat likes this idea. Is your E–mail monitored at work? Design questions, again, as the site is seeing more and more traffic now that my scopes are being dropped from my old carrier. Breaking design rules is amusing and visually appealing to me, but given my taste in attire alone, my ideas might not be the best choices for overall usability. I did this once before when I was sorting out the current layout. What a most folks seem to miss is that this site doesn't have the horoscopes broken down by sign — that's one less click. And no splash page. One less click. From an advertising point of view, that's three less page views. All the advertising I used is "result oriented," consider it like a commission. As it stands now, I'm only advertising products I actually use, or stuff for Amazon. All that's going to do is support my book habit [reading ink addiction]. But none of that solves the design questions at hand. The missed Leo showed up today, had us some late lunch at Curra's, with a Gemini server under the tail end of a Pisces Moon. Found some Spock Ears for the wedding — I can't wait to get to Las Vegas and do nothing for a weekend. Earlier this week, I had to chase down the UPS truck, now it's Airborne that can't seem to find my trailer — this is getting seriously annoying.
7/11
Lucky day, I hope. I looked at a few charts yesterday, then I heard from a local Leo, and I decided that the chance to see her at the Springs was worth the trip. I found neither her, nor any familiar faces among the crowds. I listened briefly to transplanted person complaining about how cold the water was, how hot the days were, and how it wasn't like back home. I resisted the urge to say, "Then leave." On my way back, making a long loop along the hike and bike trail, I came across a baby bat, trying to find cover in the searing daylight. It was about to get picked apart by a big, bad crow. I scared the crow away long enough to give the bat a chance to fly into the nearest tree. Nature teaches us lessons, and I pondered that scene on the way back to my trailer. I think I'm about to do away with the free chart option I've had up for a long time. Charts take time to compute, and e–mail is not free. I pay for a server and variety of services to connect to the net. The free stuff is no longer amusing for me — that's the clue. I once weighed my free stuff against some of the other, more quotidian web offerings, and what I found was my report covered all the planets, ran about 2,500 words, and the other weighed in at only 500 words using just the Sun, Moon, and Ascendant.
7/10
Good customer service. I was looking for a way to say this, but I've been beaten to the line: "I am a Southerner. Southerners like to tell stories. They like to tell you the truth, but that doesn't mean they're going to be factual about it." [From one of them nice Scorpio's.] One advantage to losing a contract is that I've got a lot more time to do what I like to do, and the fact that I'm doing one less weekly column now means that I can start using a little more care, and worry a little less about deadlines. 50+ e–mails, before noon. I logged on and the timer kept running, seems I spent more than six hours working on Monday morning. I was about to leave, and I saw the UPS truck parked behind a fence. I crawled around the edge of the fence, through the weeds and trash, to get to the truck as I knew, just as soon as I left the trailer, that UPS delivery would come through. I thoughts, "Here's the proof, they just sit, watch and wait until you leave before they attempt delivery." It wasn't our regular driver, so this one didn't know about delivering to Shady Acres. After that, I spent a portion of lunch pulling briars out of the shirt I had in hand when I went through that fence to get to the delivery. All that for a flat package: proof that folks will buy anything on the net. It's a piece of leather [damned expensive piece of leather, if you ask me] that fits over the keyboard on my notebook when it's closed. So far, though, it seems to work. I'll find out if this is really a "must have" accessory this weekend. Late last night, I thought I'd swing by the Alamo Drafthouse. Monday night is dollar night. I'd heard good things about "Blow" [the movie], so I was off to see what turned out to be a sold out show. It's always interesting being the one of the oldest people in the audience. The movie itself left me a little shell–shocked. I was busy, in the first half of the movie, mentally keeping track of the tunes and making sure the period pieces were done correctly. But the second half of the movie was creepy, eerie, and touched a nerve or two. There was an understated quality to the acting, and the wretched excess of the times was played just right.
7/9
This one is just too great to pass up. I was going to tweak it a little, and make it the introduction for the week, but that turned out to be too much work. The supportive e–mail continues to pile up, and that's great. I had the Dallas trio in this very trailer for about an hour yesterday afternoon. Be still my heart. I was the envy of the entire trailer park, I do believe [remember: appearance can be deceiving.] But what they don't know, won't hurt them, right? Right. And then there was the Austin Journal Writers' group meeting yesterday afternoon. I think the fact that we cleared out a portion of the coffee shop speaks highly for what we discussed. The deal is, my personal daily journal (this), is different from the regular column I do. Seems like most of the folks in the local journal list all have real jobs, too. I pondered that as I walked home, the afternoon sun baking my face. I managed to shed the shirt before I ever got to the river's edge. Summer in central Texas has arrived.
7/8
I stopped by the hotel this morning, to help my friend and her daughters get loaded up [and scam a free breakfast] — only, I wound up working a lot harder — "getting you guys loaded up is like herding cats," I confided in one of the girls. I don't remember which one, either. I was just glad that Bubba never got to meet any of the girls. One, or both, of the daughters he'd flip over. And nothing will dissuade him, once that hook is set. It wouldn't have been a pretty sight, either. I think he was sensing this the other night.
7/7
Some tourists like to do fun things, and some tourists are really good looking, and then, some tourists are really good to be seen with. Imagine a nice Dallas Mom, and her nice, Dallas Daughters. In other words, babes, each and every one. So there I am, casual like, sauntering in with my "Women want me, fish fear me" hat, and I'm herding along these three Dallas girls. Who is the man? [so the reality of the situation is a little different, and if you so much as look at either the daughters, that mom will kick your butt from here to Louisiana. But never mind that — I looked like a pimp daddy stud muffin — at least in my own mind.] Allow me my illusions of grandeur. Another note for today's date, besides the Sun is in Cancer, and the Moon is in Aquarius: it's the feast day for St. Thomas More, remarkable because he was both an attorney and a saint.
7/6
> TalkToKramer: You linked to Kevin Fowler. You rock.
I suppose that's a nice one. I was very upset with the review posted on Amazon — obviously a person with no sense of style, taste, and lacking a sense of humor. It's just plain, old–fashioned western music, and with a title like "Beer, Bait and Ammo," you know it's got to be a little twisted. And, while I'm on the subject of humor, on Indpendence Day, I fished out a letter from the iVillage/Astronet corporate entity, canceling my contract. Which is funny because alert readers alerted me to this long before anyone in the office let me know. So I'm an indpendent again — works for me. The radio show was smooth as could be, although, beforehand, the Neighbor showed up as I was halfway through a stack of gingerbread pancakes at Magnolia, and he stuck his index finger in my glass of water as he walked by. On a return trip, he stuck two fingers in the water — he was just playing, and I was amused. I try not to drink any water that early in the morning, hate to dilute the coffee. Looks like it's going to be an extra long weekend with more tourists to show around.
7/5
One of the reasons I love what I do is that each chart, each piece of mail, each encounter is a potential learning experience. A couple of years ago, I was at a party, and one of the guests attempted to blindside me with a question about what I do. But the truth of the matter is, I truly enjoy writing my scopes. I do it because I like it; earning a living off what I love to do is just a bonus. Sort of a sedate Fourth, if you ask me. I think it's better that way, too, as I'm up before the dawn for breakfast with Elaine [Leo], then off to the radio station for another phone in show for a few hours. I did take a stroll, and I did stretch my legs on the trail yesterday afternoon. Some point, right around 98 degrees, it gets hot. Up to 90, though, that's still rather coolish — means I barely break a sweat. I hopped by Bubba's office [he was filling in for Tech Support], and we had some Italian food, then hung around the trailer park for a spell. After the sun set, we found our way down to Sonic, for the purpose of watching fireworks go off, watch the traffic go by, and of course, a chili cheese dog with tater tots — it's the holiday — it's what you're supposed to do. The strains of music were wafting on the air, but I couldn't quite place it — I miss the conjunto and stuff that should be required on a day like today. For that matter, Independence Day, I always thought that was in March... it's a Texas thang, I reckon.
7/4
Happy Fourth of July. I ran into the sweet Pisces at Magnolia, having a late lunch. I asked her what was good, she suggested a veggie burger. I had the same, but I asked for a couple of strips of bacon on top — makes all the difference, sort accentuates the flavor of the sprouts and all. Then it was iced coffee at Jo's with the Cancer poet, somewhat bemoaning her economic state. With the recent round of Austin layoffs, service jobs are more dear these days, "Hey, I'm poet, I have a right to that waitress job!" [It sounded much better in person, on a hot afternoon.] Just when I had switched into proper lounging attire, Bubba rings me up. "What are you doing for dinner? Come on, I'm buying...." Since this is a rare occurrence, I couldn't turn it down. Threadgill's for dinner. Bubba was on a roll, last night, "No man, it's like I've been kind of lonely lately...." His cell phone goes off. "It's either the cable, the modem or the printer, what's the 2nd light on the front show? Green? Okay then that means, can you hold a second, 'Hello?' yeah, can you hold a second?" I watched master at work. He charmed the Libra server and a girl on the phone at the same time. That's smooth. Amy's for dessert. I saw him walk that night with a girl's phone number, and plans for an upcoming concert. He fixed 14 problems at two venues, hugged the prettiest of the 'security people,' and seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. I did lose him in Waterloo at some point, but he showed up soon enough. Luck's a funny thing like that, all he had to do was buy my dinner. Musical selection: beer, bait and ammo.
7/3
There's an apartment complex between Threadgill's and Shady Acres. They have a pool, with a fence around it. Now, if I slip a pen knife's blade in through the little locking bolt, it's easy to slide the gate open. Consider that I wear a lot of surfer attire, so my normal shorts double as swimming trunks (mesh internal pockets, for example). I suppose it's a little weird to show up for a reading — a business appointment — my hair still damp, me reeking of pool chlorine, but on summer day in Texas, I need to stay cool — I've got an image to maintain.
> We pay for AOL and your input. Now what?
> You need indoor plumbing. We need you!
> You are connected to the universe in a more intimate way
> than what they're forcing us to accept.
> "Do not let artificial lamps make strange shadows out of you,"
> wrote Pedro Pietri.
The question has come up often enough, what do I think about the astrology.com horoscopes? I've heard a handful of stories from self–proclaimed "insiders," and what the stories suggest is that the scopes are not actually written by the person who signs her name to them. I don't know this for a fact. As of yesterday, direct links like this were still working. I think I'm still working through some "airport karma," first it was Saturday morning's dash to drop of a red head, then drop off another red head yesterday afternoon, then last night, go back one more time — I like the Austin airport, but I prefer to go some place rather than just hang around it. [Unrelated, but interesting point about free stuff.]
7/2
The really important thing to address this morning seems to be the ongoing demise of astronet. I wrote my first astrology column when I was in college, back in 1987. My horoscopes have been on the web since 1994. Chronologically, Genie [Libra] solicited me for a weekly column in the summer of 1995, something I was already doing on a web site of my own making. I'm proud of this, some remnants of the original ASCII code are still intact — it was so long ago, I had to bang two rocks together to make binary code. I wish I still had the e–mail note, but back in 1995, I was told I could take my own web site down after Astronet/AOL picked me up. Since my site was already generating money, I opted not to go that route. A year or two into the astronet experience, they finally got around to paying me for my work. A recent discussion with some better paid writers has lead me to believe that I was not being "paid to scale" for my work. But from my point of view, I was doing okay — rent on trailer in South Austin still isn't very much. In the following years, I got checks from two or three different corporate entities as astronet changed ownership. Late last year, or maybe it was this year, iVillage merged with women.com, and iVillage has Kelli Fox's astrology.com while women.com had Genie's astronet.com. Last February, I was alerted that astronet might go away. Or something might happen. Then, as I've noted before, the target date was sometime in June. So it's no surprise to me. Still hurts the old cash flow. My handler at astronet has been busy assuring me that everything will work out. I've turned in requested — and contracted — copy through August; the contracts run until the end of September. Can't say the handler [Gemini] was at fault, either, as she's done a good job of keeping me up–to–date on what might happen. The kicker is, some of the astronet writers will probably be offered positions with astrology.com. Of course, I've heard nothing about this; therefore, I can only assume that it's not me. Such is the way the Fates spin the web of life. With apologies to Hunter Thompson, "When the going gets tough, the tough go fishing."
7/1
Tourist things to do: Waterloo. [Buy Texas music] Amy's. [Mexican Vanilla ice cream] Shopping on South Congress Avenue. [Boots] Watching that girl from California try on cowboy hats, the sales clerk had to keep politely reminding her that, "The bow goes in the back." It's how you tell the front from the back — for the non–Cowboy hat wearing types. I just sort of assumed everyone always knew how to wear such hats. Last night, the ultimate in tourist things, and pretty normal event for me: The Broken Spoke. Chicken fried steak and Dale Watson were the star attractions. The crowd was its usual, and it stretched from young to old — always makes interesting people watching. My California tourist didn't get the musical humor when Dale Watson swung into a tune that was clearly not one of his own. It was the theme song from the "Dukes of Hazard." I should give extra points for the trivia question, who sang that, and who was the show's narrator. But around here, it's pretty much common knowledge. Of course, Dale played it like it was his own, and it did fill up the dance floor. The e–mail flood continues with notes about the demise of Astronet.com. Funny thing is, my horoscopes have been on the web since 1994. Astronet didn't launch until late 1995. This running on three and four hours of sleep, though, is starting to wear me a little thin. Tourists are so hard on the old body.
6/30
Yesterday morning, up before the dawn. I was standing in the drive for the trailer park, and another resident was just returning in from an evening of work. His date [girlfriend?] says, "Hello Kramer," kissed me on the back of my hand, and I was ready to go fishing. There's an old saying that suggests, "A bad day of fishing is better than a good day at work." I didn't catch a thing. My Virgo buddy, he caught, well, he got one. The fish weren't biting, but the early dawn, the sparse clouds drifting over the sun, the dappled surface of the lake, and a lone osprey, making off with catch of the day. It was better than work. We stopped in Bastrop for some late lunch, on the way home. BBQ at Cartwirght's. Then, last night, I've got what I call a "visiting dignitary" [Leo, from California] — in town for some real Texas music, some country music, and the flavor of Austin. Tourists are a good thing. I get to go to places I never usual go to. Like the Continental Club — that legendary home of South Austin music. Saw/listened to an interesting singer/songwriter, Jim Lauderdale. Got home in time dispense with some "airport karma" with yet another red head — had to take a Capricorn to the airport this morning. Saturday morning, before noon, no fishing poles involved, now that's a true act of giving. So that's two mornings in a row now, I've been up before the dawn. I'm not sure I like this. [But I do like showing off the neighborhood to tourists — yes, it really is like I describe — "Your neighbors are quite the characters!"]
6/29
When the brown stuff hits the fan, it is not evenly distributed. Sure felt that way — all day yesterday. When I was clicking around the astronet.com web site, all the links dumped my browser to an astrology.com splash page. I took it as a bad sign, and got on about the morning's business of being an actual, practicing astrologer. I recently — right on their requested deadline — turned in copy for August's set of columns. Odds on getting paid? My current contract runs through September. Then the e-mails started piling up, "What happened to Astronet?"
> I really enjoyed reading your web?
> I linked off of astronet.com. Now it goes
> to village.com? How do I find you?
> I am a big fan and enjoy your humor!
> I appreciate you!
I got half dozen yesterday morning. A certain Gemini stopped by to see me; we got to talking, and I forgot the problem at hand. "Stay out of post offices today!" Then another Gemini came by, running a little late, and we all caught a "high tea" lunch at Curra's — perhaps the best chili cheese fries in the world. The Leo server didn't quite agree, "Sonic is pretty good." Placated with Curra's cuisine, I went back the trailer, and answered a couple of more "What happened to astronet's web site?" questions. One more e-mail, and the bad new got worse — maybe. Stay tuned. I suppose I can chalk this one up to Mars and Mercury being retrograde, although, at the moment, Mercury wasn't technically still backwards. So my horoscopes are looking for a new home. Horoscopes for hire, again. Last night, the phone kept ringing and ringing, more calls, mostly concerned with Mercury's mayhem. Then that Virgo fishing buddy called, "So you want to fish tomorrow? Pick you up at 6." Dealing with a crisis in my distribution, what do I do? Cheese fries. Fishing. What was it Dr. Hunter S. Thompson said? "When the going gets tough, the weird turn pro."
6/28
Tuesday night, along with the Pisces and the red headed Capricorn, we all ventured into Waterloo Records. I picked up a discount copy of Jimmy LaFave's Texoma. Heard it was good, it got a little local radio play, and as I listened to it over and over, I was intrigued by it. An album named for a large reservoir on the Red River, not really country, not really rock. It's a Texas thang. "Elvis loved his Mama. Ain't nothing wrong with that." [Gratuitous Cap reference.] Movie reference: Dancer, Texas, Pop. 81. "You'd better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone for the times, they are a'changin'." [The Times Are A'Changin', Bob Dylan, recorded 10/63, released 1/64.] The 'astrology murder mystery' book I've been reading is okay — but the pacing is off. There's too much texture, not enough substance. Suddenly, I find myself trying to skip pages. Which got me thinking about a criticism of my scopes. But there's a difference, my scopes run between 100 and 200 words, not 80,000 words. And scopes don't suffer from plot devices. Besides, it would be okay to cut some scopes in length, just not the important one, which would be, any one of the 12 signs. I'll be glad when Mercury gets turned around, and I go back to being coherent.
6/27
I try to listen to a Taurus for music recommendations. Usually works well. There's this one Taurus, here in Shady Acres (lovely lass), and she's a big fan of Vallejo. I didn't get it, I thought they were just some tawdry, local rock band. Now, the other night, I saw some DJ friends, they gave me a stack of CD's as partial payment, and one was that Vallejo CD. Good stuff. Post–Punk, cross–cultural, Tex–Mex Rock. The word came down from on high, I'll be out of job soon. Looks like one more web site is about to be canned. I guess that's what happens when a cash cow turns into rancid hamburger. In an effort to do a little "market research" [or avoiding work], I checked a few other astrology sites. Seems like my hourly rate is a little on the low side. I wonder if these guys are really getting $200+ an hour? Guess I should raise my rates. Had a visiting friend join me and that Pisces for some dinner. It wasn't until we were halfway through a plate of sushi that we discovered this particular red headed Capricorn didn't like fish. But being a Southern Lady, she'd kept this little fact to herself. So it goes. She did get treated to Amy's ice cream, late last night.
6/26
Interesting responses to the Scorpio scope for this week. It was an actual event, when I was a "ladies man," [allow me my illusions, okay?] Happened twelve or fifteen years ago, or maybe it was little further back than that. Time is a fuzzy thing. I don't live by astrology, I just report what I observe. I had this strange urge to clean the trailer, starting with the kitchen area, yesterday morning. I flipped the ice box's thermostat over to "defrost." Tossed out some pots and pans I'll never use. I undertook all this just after the moon went into Virgo. Weird connection. A fishing buddy sent me a picture of the lake at sun rise. That's a cruel trick. Makes me want to fish. Now. Very few things are better than being on the lake at sunrise. When I went hiking yesterday at noon, it was a lot more like a limp than a hike — I've had these two pairs of sandals for close to a year. One set rubs a new spot on my left heel, and Sunday's trek with that Cappy, the other pair rubbed spot on my toe. What confounds me the most, though, is the idea that I've been using these sandals long enough so this shouldn't be happening, not now, not in the middle of the walking months. My legs are up to it — the feet just don't seem as willing. Austin airport — according to a Dallas newspaper — is a great place to be stranded. I've already mentioned that before — shoot, it doesn't get more redneck than this: I've taken a date to the airport before. Two mistakes, one structural, one clearly a typographical [missed by the fact checking department] mistake in the astrology–murder–mystery book, and I'm only a third of the way through. I can easily forgive mixing 284 and 248, besides, only an anal retentive astrologer with a superior command of the facts would notice that one. The other problem, is an "astrologer mom" character who seems to be missing the obvious effects of Saturn oppose Saturn in her child's chart, while it's going on, and when it would be part of the story. Or maybe it's just me.
6/25
When I wandered into the bookstore on Saturday, the owner [Virgo] handed me a couple of books. "Thought you might like these — they have an astrologer as the main character." Is fiction better than reality? I hope so. I got up really early on Sunday morning and spent a lot of time feeling rather ineffectual in my morning duties so I called up a red headed Capricorn, to see if she was ready to hike. We blazed around the trail, up and over the new bridge, back to Shady Acres and hopped in her truck to go to Hula Hut. A huge plate of appetizers in the cool setting of the bar at the end of pier left us in a soporific haze. The rest of the day was a blur.
6/24
Why won't anyone listen to me when I tell them how cool Fort Worth is? I worked at the Pisces brunch, but my work didn't last very long. Fun group of folks. "Kramer, how do you like these odds?" [It was mostly female.] However, I talked a Virgo into giving me a ride to Adventures in Crime and Space bookstore, and I managed to catch up with a new favorite author, Rick Riordian [c.f., front page for the book list recommendations]. I kept trying to engage the author in conversation, but by the end of the afternoon, I wound up chatting with his wife as she watched over their two small boys. I am, primarily, an astrologer, so I had to gather his birthday, and since the couple had been married a long time — apparently they do work close together, I had to get both birthdays. This is weird: both Gemini. They actually have the same birthday. And it's their anniversary.
6/23
Lyrics. I mean, one of the reasons to buy a CD is for the copyright data — I've got a couple of editors, not to mention my own liberal arts sensitivity — which all suggests I need to be able to get the words right, and then get the author attributed. Looking for that "lost verse" on an REK song. It's a final verse that adds some extra texture to a feeling, a sense I've got about West Texas — and another project I'm working on. Mayflies for bait. I took off for a long hike yesterday morning, trying to clear cobwebs out of my head. Didn't work, not really, but I had the weirdest vision, something I actually saw, there was this pair of swans, almost beached on rock on the eastern loop of the trail, and there was fairly large yellow ear turtle up there with them, his head, tail, and legs all withdrawn. One of the swans was pecking at the moss on the turtle's back. And I no sooner arrived home from the hike than the phone rang. "Shopping? Dinner? Now?" "Sure," I replied. My Pisces hostess for Saturday's party. Damnedest thing: while shopping, she bought nothing, but I found a great shirt — machine washable silk Hawaiian print — total? $8.61. That's a deal — it's increasingly difficult to find clothing that clashes so well. We had an early dinner at Hill's Cafe [4700 S. Congress Ave.], a legendary place according to the placemat. Interesting history, too, as it claims to be tied to the Goodnight family, ranch and Texas lore. But the "Goodnight Steak" I had was just that. Almost put me to sleep. After that hike, a huge chunk of rare sirloin would've put anyone to sleep.
6/22
No loud neighbors squalling and "having words" at 4:00 AM. No big deals, other than a slightly less–than–compliant cat complaining about the usual "I can see the bottom of the food dish" syndrome. Halfway from the gutter to the stars [Fat Boy Slim]. Listening to KISS, wearing a cowboy hat, talking to SC [Gemini], and a new set of Tarot cards, courtesy of Ma Wetzel. I just sort of figured the "super new moon" in Cancer would be the best way to break these new cards in. Oh this is weird. "Death before tech support." I did get an easy afternoon, finally, poking around town with that Cancer girl and her digital camera. Stay tuned, "Pictures at 11." Neo–pagans. Holy Grail action figures [via slash dot.] There was this big rain last night, and this morning looks cool and calm, with a lot of debris on the surface of the river. I just hope no bodies have risen.
6/21
> But, see, you have ambition and they specifically said no ambition when
> they described it
> in the paper so as your self-appointed image consultant, I'd advise you
> to withdraw from the race immediately.
I guess it really doesn't matter, I never saw the movie. I did see the other one, saw the Texas premier — introduced by then–Governor Ann Richards [Virgo]. She pointed out how politics and movies were so similar — all smoke and mirrors, nothing real. Sage politician, if you ask me. So that's three Virgo notes, and nothing else.

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