For the week of: 6/4-10/2001
“Such short liv’d wits do wither as they grow.”
Shakespeare’s “Love’s Labour’s Lost” [II.i.54]
In honor of Sister’s b-day this week, Venus will move herself from Aries to Taurus. Mars is still backwards, though, so this is less fun than it could be. Or it might be more fun, if Mars wasn’t making trouble. And Mr. Mercury is about to make things go a little weird: Mercury Retrograde is approaching. Or starts. Or already started. I never can get that straight, not at times like this. There’s a trivia question Sagittarius, too. Austin, coming up this weekend, stop by if you want a real look at your chart. Better yet, beat the cover charge and tell the guy at the door, you’re on the Kramer Guest List. Usually works for me. If ya’ll ain’t going to be in Austin, and you’d still like to support this web site, then there are variety of options. 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: This is beginning to feel like a low point. I used to quote Winston Churchill at times like this, but I’ve overused that expression. It’s a lot like one of my favorite places to fish, a nice place, a nice quote, but both items have seen better days. So rather than resurrect that quote, one more time, I’ll just suggest that this week doesn’t mark the end of anything. For that matter, it really doesn’t mark the beginning of anything, either. Given where the planets are, though, I would recommend a little time in the shade of nice tree. In fact, like my over-fished favorite spot, it might be a time to head on down to just such a bend in the river of life, find that shade tree, and hang out a pole. Might want to skip wasting any bait on the hook, though, doesn’t look like you’ll catch much of anything new. Which doesn’t mean it isn’t a nice time to sit back and watch the river as she slowly rolls by.
Taurus: It ain’t like you are not exactly all fired up, but you remind me of a certain friend’s puppy under the present astrological influences. That darn puppy dog keeps making laps, it’s little puppy, you know, and it keeps hopping up on the couch, then in a mighty leap, bolts across the living room floor, up on the easy chair, then it springs to the ottoman, then it ricochets through to the kitchen, and sniffs something on the floor. Looks like an imaginary spot to me, but I don’t have a dog’s sense of smell. [Ed. note: Kramer does smell like a dog, on occasion.] Then the pup spring back into my lap, licks my face, then it’s off again, making another tour of the living room, to see if something has escaped its attention. You’re just like that, right now, just this very minute, bouncing around, sniffing what there is to sniff, wagging your Taurus tail, and then happily licking the face of any willing soul, just about any friendly face will do fine. Once Venus gets firmly in your sign, as this week progresses, the number of folks who find you as cute as that puppy increases.
Gemini: My long standing appreciation for all things Gemini should pay off. Of course, it hasn’t done so yet, but there’s always hope. And maybe attempting to hold onto one shred of hope is the best way to look at times like this. Yes, Mercury will start moving backwards — in Gemini — and this means, well, at this point, I’m pretty sure you’re already feeling it. And I’m sure you know what it’s like, the usual stuff about Mercury being backwards in your sign does apply. However, there’s an added element to this astrological stew, and that would be both Saturn and Jupiter, also in your sign, and also acting like heavy-handed players. As hard as it may seem, the hint for success would be hard work. No, I don’t mean it would be hard work to find a hint for success, what I’m suggesting is that hard, concentrated effort — focus on thing at a time — yields your best results. In other words, work hard and then work harder. Don’t try to trick the trickster, either, none of this “work smarter, not harder” stuff. Mercury makes you want to do three things at once, not usually a problem, but due to his errant influence, concentrate on one task at hand.
Cancer: There are some days when staying in bed is a viable option. There are some days when the pain to change anything is far too great to overcome the existing ennui. There are times when it just feels like getting out of bed is too much trouble, and the downy soft pillows, the comforter, the whine of the trailer’s AC unit, and everything is far more inviting than anything offered out there. “Out there,” refers to anything beyond the scope of your immediate surroundings. According to my sources, the average house cat can sleep for at least 18 hours in every day. Not a bad average, and good work, too, if you can get it. Given where everything is, astrologically speaking, I think the best action might be sleeping. Or, at the very least, staying in bed. I run a web camera and I do my best to keep it trained on the cat. Apparently, though, pictures of a sleeping cat don’t make for exciting web content. Likewise, sleeping through this week doesn’t make for invigorating content, but it does offer some solutions on how to best avoid the problems associated with Mercury [as well as Saturn and Jupiter]. 18 hours a day, all week long, I think it’s a good goal to have. I’m planning on adopting it as well.
Leo: If this hadn’t happened to me, I couldn’t help you, but it has. I was stuck on a dance floor, at a place called the Broken Spoke (yes, it is a real country dance hall in South Austin — but there are many places with a similar name and ambiance), and even though I was in my home town, a scant few blocks from where my trailer was up on blocks, my attire that one night made me look like a tourist from off-world. It was summertime, and I was not wearing boots, jeans, yoke shirt with pearl snaps, or a cowboy hat. To suggest that I looked a little out place in sandals and shorts is an understatement. Naturally, I was better dressed for the ambient temperature, but that means nothing in place like the Broken Spoke where certain appearances are expected. You’ll feel like I did, only this is going to last for more than one dance. In fact, it’s going to last for the next few weeks, but it’s at its strongest right now. You’re liable to be feeling out of place, even in your own neighborhood. You can either try to hide and blend in, which isn’t really easy for a dashing Leo figure like yourself, or you can do what I did: get out on the dance floor, do a little two step to the band, and enjoy yourself. Sure, you look funny, but have a good time, anyway. Beats the alternatives.
Virgo: Chicken Fried Steak is a dietary staple in my part of the country. Even once day is not too often for this culinary treat. But there was this Virgo, one in particular, she took one bite of the double dipped egg batter fried concoction, and wondered what kind of meat was used as it seemed rather tough. See, that’s why Chicken Fried Steak is prepared in such a fashion: it’s done so to add flavor and soften the texture of a tough piece of meat. The better chicken fried steak is usually done with a poor excuse for boot leather. The better the cook, the better the dressing that makes the plate more palatable. Sometimes, this is a defining dish in my culture. Of course, there are times, the place just ain’t quite got it all right, and the meat does seem a little tough. So as you make your Virgo way through this week, consider it like plate of chicken fried steak, might be a little tough in spots, and you might have a question or two about the sanitary conditions of where you’re at, but do like I do, and wipe the water spots off the silverware, and dig in. Might take a little chewing, but you can hack your way through, and the meal is generally followed by some incredible fresh peach cobbler. There will be a dessert — I promise.
Libra: You get a choice this week, either it’s an annoying group of small problems with how you talk to a group of people, or it’s going to be a single problem of how a group of people talk to you. Perhaps it’s like my first encounter with a British person of peerage. Being a Texan, I’m loud and brash, anecdotal humor punctuates my mannerisms, and I refuse to take myself seriously. Know what I mean? So with my first encounter with the British Peerage, I felt like I came across as a some sort of an uneducated lout. Somebody not worthy of being scraped off a boot at the end of the day’s fox hunt. Dirt, even. My jovial sense of humor was sorely strained. I toned it all down. Learned to listen for the subtle nuance of the British dry humor, and I kept inbreeding jokes to a minimum — actually a reference to my kinfolk in East Texas. Okay, so you can either adapt rapidly to a changing inability to communicate, or you can clam up for a spell. Personally, I think being quiet and letting the other folks set the pace works best. And then, this doesn’t have to be either of those choices about problems with communication. Let them set the pace, and you just follow their lead.
Scorpio: My Scorpio Mother {hi Mom} will get a hold of me this week, and she will say, “If I’ve told once, I’ve told a thousand times….” and in true Scorpio form, she won’t be indulging in some Sagittarius hyperbole with that comment. I believe she can tell me that it’s been exactly 1,437 times she has admonished me with that particular sentiment. In a similar vein, most Scorpio’s will find themselves having to use that same line, “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times…” and then whatever logically follows comes out of the Scorpio mouth. There’s a caution with this idea, though, and going over old ground is not always welcome. In other words, folks don’t necessarily like what you have to say. Never mind that your right. Never mind that you are, technically speaking, absolutely correct. Never mind that you are only doing what you feel must be done. There’s still a problem with how we receive that information. Like Ma Wetzel when she reaches that Scorpio Lecture Mode, my brain becomes a diaphanous shroud, and stuff just floats right on through. If you’re going to reiterate certain points this week — remember that your audience might be a little like me, and we might not be hearing everything you’re saying. Doesn’t mean you’re not right, we just might/sort of/seem to miss the point.
Sagittarius: There’s a very funny, even poignantly so, novel by a Florida journalist and author, and the title of the book is play on words because it’s both a situation and a special Bass fishing lure. Name the author, the title of his book, and maybe a short plot summary, to see if you can earn a free FGS Planet profile, delivered via e-mail [graft, corruption, right answers, or snide comments? e-mailkramerw@astrofish.net]. Accuracy counts, but sufficiently entertaining answers are also possible winners. Problem being, that title, this week, and your Sagittarius life, between Mercury going backwards in the sign he rules, plus Mr. Mars already going backwards in Sagittarius adds up to a week, just like that book. I got started on that one author because I needed some airport reading, and that title implies something a little light on deep meaning. For the time being, you might try to concentrate on just entertaining yourself as the rest of the world is out to get you. Or if they’re not out to get you, then it’ll feel like they are. The less interaction you have with other folks, the better off you’ll be. Now, I know a good book, named after a fishing lure, which you right enjoy, a pleasant bit of escape from the tired week’s not so routine events.
Capricorn: As if this could happen at the worst possible time, just when you’re about to release some very important information, just when the big deal is about to get ready for print, just when it looks as if there will finally be the big break, just when you are about ready to sign that very important contract, there’s the persistent and predictable Mr. Mercury, doing his best to confuse the issue. So if you’re looking at a contract, a draft of a legal document, or some other work-related endeavor, then think twice before affixing your own name in a legally binding way, to the dotted line. Sure as the sun comes up in the east, sure as the stars spin in the night sky, and sure as the planets continue to move in a normal pattern, Mr. Mercury is making some rather unwelcome nuisances. I tend to regard this as a time for some much needed review and revision work. Turns out that whatever that important document you just had to sign right now, whatever that pressing issue was, it’s a lot like a friend of mine in the business of selling cars, he just hands over a stack of papers and gets you to start signing without letting you read the details. Check first. Do you really want an extended warranty that doesn’t cover the drivetrain? (My buddy sells these all the time).
Aquarius: It never hurts to dream big. It never hurts to think of stuff you would like to do, perhaps, like win the lottery. Or that big prize envelope which comes in the mail every week, promising me that I may already be a winner. I’m wondering if you’re already a winner, I mean, being a winner above and beyond just being a wonderful Aquarius. Now the bad news, you can’t win, if you don’t stick a stamp on the envelope, and mail it back to the prize claims committee. That’s what’s important. You have to answer this call, you have to tell them that you’re willing to humbly accept all that stuff they have to offer. Regrettably, you might wind up with enough mail to fill a small landfill. If that happens, I know a ravine real close to this trailer, which needs to be filled in, and we could use a little extra material, and all that junk mail makes for good filler. So even if you don’t win the big prize, what’s left over, even though Mercury is heading into backspin, the stuff that’s left laying about, you can use it to fill up a hole that desperately needs filling. Better yet, all of this gets delivered to your front door, so you don’t have far to go. So one way or another, you wind up being a winner — it just might not come in the conventional sense.
Pisces: A thoughtful Pisces reader once sent me an e-mail suggesting that I devise a shelter called a Mercury Bunker, and it’s times just like this when this sort of shelter from a storm is suggested. In as much as I would suggest you barricade yourself in your own trailer, lock the front door and quit answering the phone, there’s always this problem, you’ll get curious one moment, log onto the web, and check your e-mail. There’s good news, bad news, and some stuff you’d rather not read, and I’m not even addressing the problem of all the advertising that shoots down the wires to your computer’s screen, either. The biggest problem is the bad news sure feels like it outweighs the good news. That might not be the actual case, but the feeling is there. I do have a solution, though, just don’t look at the computer. Electronic things go haywire right now, thanks to Mercury. And rather than try and deal with the weird stuff, skip it all. At this point, I’d even be a little leery of the straight postal stuff, too. That might not be a good idea, either. Can you hide out for the first portion of this Mercury time? I hope so. I’m still running on last year’s Y2K supplies. I knew that stuff would prove useful, eventually.
(c) Kramer Wetzel, 2000, 2001
