For the week of: 6/18-24/2001
“That’s somewhat madly spoken.”
in Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure [V.i.92]
Eclipse at Zero Cancer. I like living in Texas. The enthusiasm can be quite infectious. And cowboy hats are commonplace. A person doesn’t feel odd wearing manly headgear. A good hat provides shade. That’s what happens during an eclipse, the Moon and the Sun are positioned in such a cosmic way as to provide shade for one another, so to speak. The significance of this being at Zero Cancer? It’s like that Texas attitude which will include a whoop and a holler. Texans may not always be biggest (although we would like to think so) or best (although we would like to think so) but we can be the loudest. Lots of folks are going to be loud right now, just like us. Like to see this web site stay alive? Order up a report. Buy a T-shirt. Or hit the PayPal donate button [it’s like dropping a dollar in the tip jar, a time-honored Austin tradition. Like the sign says at the coffee shop, “Good tippers are more highly evolved.”]
Aries: If folks would just pay attention to your sage advice, then this wouldn’t be such a bad time. Problem being, what with Mercury sliding backwards in the sky (you can see him right before sun up if you really want to), problem being, no one seems to think your scintillating words of wisdom amount to much more than a hill of beans right now. Which is not the case because your words are actually full of wisdom and useful information. But never mind that — no one seems interested in hearing what you have to say. Keep your counsel to yourself. In other words, shut up. Stop the motor mouth which is churning out good stuff because no one is, in fact, listening. Instead of trying to convince us about how smart you are (yes, you really are that smart), instead of trying to impress us with your precise use of language, metaphor, hyperbole and poetry, and instead of demonstrating your wonderful wit, just keep quiet. It’s like some of my jokes, they fail miserably. Which doesn’t mean the jokes aren’t funny, just means the audience fails to see the trenchant wit at work. And like my jokes falling on deaf ears, your wisdom is wasted this week on people who just don’t get it. A normal Aries reaction is to keep trying. Forget that, this is not a normal time, and don’t try to make someone understand. Laugh to yourself, but don’t worry about it. You’ll win them over — eventually.
Taurus: At the risk of alienating a large portion of the decent Taurus readers, there’s a particular quote from a certain best selling book, something about “walking in the valley in the shadow of [something or other]” and I don’t have reference manual right here, so I can’t get the correct poetry spin on this one passage. But you’re supposed to be not afraid. Fear nothing. Great idea. Nice words. Doesn’t work. See: it looks like it’s a bad time for a lot of things. Between the Mars and Mercury face off right now, and the rest of the planets just generally screwing things up, it’s time to do something. And while you don’t personally feel that bad, you keep seeing shadows flicker in the summer light, especially in the long, twilight evenings. Those shadows have you worried. I’ll agree with you about being worried, but I’m not paranoid, and neither are you. It’s just that there’s a foreboding sense that something bad is about to happen, and no amount of faith is going to save the day. Pretty glum so far? Good news: the sun changes its position, the light flickers, and suddenly that shadow is not really a bad thing. No, that’s now shade, and you get a little bit of shade which provides you respite from the summer heat (it is summer in Texas, and hot as the blazes during most days). So don’t freak out at the shadows, matter of fact, a little shade is good thing, when seen in the correct light.
Gemini: Righteous indignation is a useful kind of energy, if properly focused. The problem being, Mr. Mercury is really screwing up your focus, and you’re rather inclined to get irritable with something (thanks to the Mars situation), with something you can’t control. But you can control your temper. I’ll give you a hint: it really does suck to have to go back and say you’re sorry for something you said, or something that you did, or, worse yet, try and remove that knife you stuck in someone’s back. None of this is pleasant. Now, use this righteous indignation to give you energy to do something useful, like working out. Nothing’s better than a good marathon style run to help burn off some of this energy. I don’t know that I would suggest you start a full work out routine, not now, but getting out and burning up some of indignant energy will help. Beats having to go back and apologize later. Besides, this can escalate into one of those arguments wherein the fight itself seems more important than any of the underlying reasons, in the first place. Take it easy with being irritable — we’re all feeling it — you’re just getting the worst of it, but only for right now.
Cancer: The sensitive sign of Cancer is most often associated with the Moon, and the lunar phase, just like what’s happening now, this little lunar perturbation, that can really upset your own, finely defined set of values. You can let this ruin a perfectly acceptable week, if you want. You can let this ruin what is otherwise not a bad time. You can let this one, little, insignificant problem become all blown way out of proportion, or you can ride it out. I usually get a lot of mail complaining about whatever I wrote, and this stuff hits on Monday and Tuesday. So if you’re still complaining about that one little problem, and if you’re going to complain to me, then I suggest you hold that thought, and hold the e-mail, until the end of this week. Please? Good, because despite the minor little Moon/Mars/Mercury thing, you’re still okay, but at the end of the week.
Leo: Leo is a dependable sign. You’re not flippant, at least, not usually. Ya’ll ain’t flaky, not usually. Not that temperamental, neither. Solid, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, you guys are dependable. But there is a lot of very upsetting stuff going on around you. If you look carefully, you will notice that it is not you. The problem is not in your own, personal backyard. If you live in a trailer like I do, then the term backyard has its own, special meaning. One of the neighbors here at Shady Acres has a pair of mean, vicious, nasty looking dogs. Pit Bull, Doberman, something like that — I’m not very good with dog breeds myself. And you know that dog people and cat people don’t get along too well. The cat considers a portion of the backyard to the trailer to be her personal space. And with the way this week is going, those two pesky mutts have adopted it as their own, personal dumping ground. This can easily escalate into a major war. But there’s a better solution than dragging out a firearm to handle this. And the idea is that you get on the phone and call up the neighbor, and diplomatically suggest that the he restrain his pets. Try that before a cat fight starts.
Virgo: There are two types of folks in this world, thems that live in Texas and thems that don’t. Pretty simple little line there, not much room for discussion, either ya’ll are one of us, or you ain’t. For the ones who don’t live here, you frequently find our mannerism and speech patterns belie a lack of education. One would think we’re all a bunch of uneducated, roadkill eating backwater types. And that’s merely based on the way we sound when we drawl. Fact is, we’re really not all that uneducated. Fact is, a lot of us completed a lot more than just high school. We just talk like this because it’s a regional accent, and better yet, it irritates the heck out of certain folks not from around here. Texas boasts a host of world class art museums, even the smallest towns like Dallas or Ft. Worth [Cowtown] offer Shakespeare in Park during some summer months, and there are any number of similar “high falutin'” nods towards what an liberal, degree totin’ educated person would have to call snob appeal stuff going on. It’s just the way we talk, and sometimes, that’s just to irritate the heck out non-Texas folks. Your Virgo self is going to feel like you’re on one side of this line, or the other, but it doesn’t much matter which side you fall on, the other side deserves a little more examination before you pass a cynical, hard judgment this week.
Libra: There may be many different ways to look at this week’s untimely alignments, but the easiest expression I have for you is that communications all seem to go in the toilet. I know you don’t find this particularly hopeful forecast. But if you’re wise, and I suspect you are, because you are turning here for a little suggestion or two, then realize that you’re seeing red, bright, brilliant red, much like a bull might see a red cape, and everyone else around you is not seeing the same thing. “Looks like they’re just waving a little kerchief at you, why are you pawing at the ground?” You and me, me because I’m an astrologer, you because you’re Libra, can both see that red flag which suggests you trample the target. Regrettably, not everyone around feels the same way. Now, just because your old buddy, the Fishing Guide to the Stars is on your side, that doesn’t suggest that you go ahead and charge. Got it? Give this one some time. The matador might be a little surprised if you run up on him, and this could cause some serious trouble for you later. So let’s try and not get all riled up under this undue influence.
Scorpio: My bet for your week is that you’re finding this little Mars/Mercury alignment vastly unamusing. And I’d like to give you some advice. But that’s the problem, I’m not sure that there is really a lot of advice I can give. It’s like the time I worked all day, come on, it’s Texas, it’s the summer time, I had on a nice Hawaiian print shirt and shorts. Sandals, too, so I could say I was formally attired by local standards. Or even by beach standards. But my friends and cohorts, they all wanted to go country and Western dancing that night. And rather than give me a chance to slip into something which would look a little less conspicuous, off we went to a place called the Broken Spoke. Great chicken fried steak, too. Even though I was less than two linear miles from my own trailer park, and even though I am native Texan, I looked, to say the least, a little out of place. I looked like tourist in my own hometown. I looked like I was from some other dimension, as far as the other patrons were concerned. My friends were amused. I was not. Make the best of your situation this week. And even if you do feel really out of place, relax, you can probably walk home, if need be. However, I can’t really recommend aquatic sport sandals as a first choice for two-stepping.
Sagittarius: In the middle of the summer, in the middle of Texas, in the middle of Austin, there is sweet little pond where some of us can find relief. Barton Springs is a spring fed pool with a constant temperature of 68 degrees. The water is crystal clear, cold and ever so refreshing. On hot day, I just follow a little trail down there, and just as I get a good sweat worked up, I can dive into that water and freeze my cojones off. But like all good swimming pools, it has to be cleaned. And with Mr. Mars doing a backwards thing, and with Mr. Mars and Mr. Mercury doing this thing together, it’s not a happy time. I go down to Barton Springs and the pool is closed for an environmental audit of the number of endangered salamanders species living there. To compound this problem, there’s a small water fall at one end, where the pool dumps fresh water into the creek. And so I head over there. But the pool cleaning stuff is just now washing over the edge of the falls, along with a few endangered salamanders, and it’s not very attractive. I’m hot, sweaty, and now, not in a good mood because my only respite, that swimming hole, is closed for the day. It could be a government agent, it could be a city official, it could be a tree hugging environmentalist, but whoever it is, they are destined to prevent any kind of relief this summer. Personally, I think it’s Monsieur Mars and Mercury, conspiring to make it a bad week. You’ve heard of always having a Plan B? Careful, you might have to run through the alphabet before you get to one that works.
Capricorn: So last week’s turn with dark fantasy wasn’t the biggest success. It just didn’t quite get the message across. But the deal is this: Mr. Mars, the little planet with a big impact, is spinning backwards in a sign which comes before your sign. In other words, looking at the astrology wheel of a chart, he’s in your 12th House. And Mr. Mars, he doesn’t really like it too much there. He’s kicking and screaming around in the subconscious. And remember Mercury? He’s backwards, too, on the opposite side of that wheel. This creates an imbalance. It’s like that “tick tick tick” noise you hear when there’s a small pebble stuck in the tread of the truck’s tire. But wait, you get out and look, and it’s not small pebble, it’s a nail. The head has snapped off, and there’s probably a slow leak. What are you going to do? Dig around and pull it with a set of pliers? Or just limp on down the side of the road until you can find someone to sell you a new tire? Personally, I always figure it’s just better to just find one of them “good, lightly used” replacements, myself. Besides, Mr. Mercury is still backwards, so you might want to just put off any major repairs right now. Look, it isn’t really leaking too much, so just slow down.
Aquarius: Just last month, I hit the “send” button for the monthly horoscope which goes out to at least 43 different folks, for free. And included in that first run of scopes for the month was a little typographical mistake. It wasn’t a big mistake, but it was slightly problematic. The spell checker, the copy editor, and even the cat missed it. Instead of saying “as” the missive had the word “ass.” Cute, wasn’t it? Not really. I mean, I could laugh it off, but not everyone was equally amused. I got flamed by three different folks, almost immediately. Some people just fail to see humor in an innocent error. It’s not like it was an intentional thing, not like there was deep, psychological meaning, or anything like that. Look at the keyboard, the letter S is right next to the letter A. I’m sorry, okay? Let it alone. So you’re coming up with some folks who are more than willing to attribute one, little innocuous mistake of yours with a lot more importance than it really warrants. Laugh it off, blame the editor, or do like I do, and suggest it was the cat’s fault. But be warned, someone is not going to be amused by your little error.
Pisces: There comes a time in every person’s life, especially for the Pisces right about now, when you’re face to face with the long haul. It’s like making that drive from Houston to El Paso — vast expanses of nothing in particular. The cat liked the trip, she kept looking out the window and making noises about all the kitty litter she could see, especially westward from San Antonio. And the trip seems to last for days on end. Towards the end, there’s a little topography which provides interesting scenery, but at first, there’s not a lot to see. Like that 8 or 10 hour cruise in the old truck, though, you’re face to face with a long haul. You can listen to tired country music on the AM stations, but those radio stations usually sign off at 10 PM, and then you’re stuck again. Try talking. There is that one, slightly uncomfortable emotional thing you’ve been meaning to discuss, and no time is like the present to tackle the prospect of this discussion. Besides, the person you’re traveling with? What, are they going to stop the car and get out and walk? It’s a hundred miles to anything. And like that long stretch of highway, there is a little change for the better at the end of the trip.
(c) Kramer Wetzel, 2000, 2001
