For the Week of 3/28-4/3/2002

“Men’s judgments are
A parcel of their fortunes, and things outward
Do draw the inward quality after them
To suffer alike.”

Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra [II.xiii.31]

I’m not so sure about the suffering, but it’s judgment call, around here.

Aries: I like Aries birthday times because there’s a good sense of frivolous celebration, a little extra dose of that nice, “party on, dude” atmosphere. So maybe everything isn’t as wonderful as you would like it to be. It still doesn’t mean that you can’t have a good time, and especially this week. There are couple of nice things going on around the Aries trailer right now. A lot of folks are swinging by, just to say hello and drop of a birthday card. I know, I would like to open up a card like that and find a few dollars in it, or even better, a big check. I can’t promise that, but the wishes for many happy returns are there. Or they should be, because you guys are the nice ones right now.

Taurus: There’s a portion of the lake I live on, really more like a river than a lake, and there’s this place where they rent canoes. It’s a springtime treat, get a canoe, paddle around the tributary, glide with the swans, try to sneak up on the turtles, and all that sort of stuff. You know, your basic spring time activities along the lake front. River front. One of those fronts. Last week, though, I saw the rented canoe, not unusual, and the couple in the canoe, again, nothing strange, but the deal was, the guy in the back was paddling and doing all the work whereas the girl in the front was just riding along — not doing anything. To some, just looking pretty is work enough, and for some one like me, just looking pretty is going to be an impossible task. As long as we’re dealing with Mr. Mars in the Taurus ‘hood, figure you’re going to be like the second half of that canoe ride: the one doing all the work — even if you should be the pretty one.

Gemini: I was sitting at a traffic light the other day, and I couldn’t help but notice that my truck is idling a little rough. With worn out shock absorbers, and the old [extra heavy duty] springs for suspension, the rough idle is even more noticeable, sort of like a rocking motion. And that’s just when everything is supposed to be siting still. There’s a gentle, wave like motion. What was really freaky was the way it looked when the truck was sitting next to a lowrider with a loud musical system, that hearty bass line booming away. Sort of looked like the two were dancing or something. Now, that problem with the idle on the truck, it isn’t so noticeable when the truck is moving in one direction, it’s just apparent in the stopped position. Don’t stop. Do like I do to keep this from happening to the Gemini motor vehicle — plan your route so you don’t have to spend any time at traffic lights.

Cancer: I know this is going to sound weird from someone not from around here, but I’ve found that Houston drivers seem to be better at negotiating traffic and high volume traffic situations better than anyone else. New York drivers have nothing on them folks from Planet Houston. Given your stars right now, I’d prepare to drive like a good Houston driver: know all the backroads, all the side street short cuts, and the back roads. sometimes, the shortest distance is not a straight line, nut the route that avoids all the usual delays. Try that; imitate my Houston driver friends.

Leo: One od the real scholars I’ve studied under had this l;little routine about how “The inner landscape of a character is reflected in the outer landscape visible to all of us.” In plain language, dress yourself up now. A quick trip to see my favorite Capricorn hair color person, a quick trip to see that Scorpio girl and get your nails done, or, for us guys, maybe a new fishing vest — but something, almost anything, to make you feel a little better about what is going on will work wonders for your Leo self. In my travels aboard (outside of Texas), I’ve seen a number of places that fit the bill perfectly, “Venus House of Beauty” comes to mind. A quick trip to just such a place will help. It will work wonders. Sit in the he chair and let someone else fawn and administer all sorts of potions to make you feel better. Get the looks up to snuff and see if that doesn’t improve the landscape view.

Virgo: A few years ago, I ran a trivia contest that was aimed squarely at the Virgo mind, that uncanny insight and attention to detail — a question just for you guys: I was asking about what was just north the Stevie Ray Vaughn statue in Austin (SRV’s b-day makes him Virgo, too, you know — no one can play the blues like a good Virgo). The answer, depending on how Virgo you were, was either the bank of the river, the channel for Colorado River, Town Lake, or Shoal Creek. Notice how it’s all a gray areas, that correct answer. I liked it because it left room wide open for interpretation. In the same way, you’ve got a few areas open for interpretation right now, and it all sort of depends. But fire your answers off and see if you can’t fool someone this week. Someone other than me, though. Please.

Libra: Authority figures are an odd sort. Around here, they usually wear a uniform os some sort. The best looking uniforms are worn by the Texas Rangers, who, if you really dig into your Texas history, were nothing more than a vigilante group, at their inception. Things change, and still think they have to coolest uniform, even when I don’t always agree with their politics. Now, I don’t understand exactly what it is that the Rangers do, other than “serve and protect” but they do seem to have some extraterritorial jurisdiction. And they have a really cool museum in Waco, Texas. Nice librarian there, too. What’s this mean to you? It’s a little suggestion that you act nice, contrite, and act as if you really care when you are face to face with a guy who might, or might not, have a star on his uniform — or even the side of his car. This weekend, and the next few days, you’re bound to run into similar authority figures, and the best course of action starts with the expression, “Yes sir.” Take it from there.

Scorpio: Just a little east of Shady Acres Mobile Home Park, there’s the Congress Avenue Bridge over the Colorado River. As some folks know, it’s the home to something like a 8 or 10 million Mexican Free Tail Bats in the summer months. Locally, this bat population has spawned a cult community and tourist opportunities as the creatures emerge at dusk and flutter off to do whatever bats do at night (educational note: bats eat lots of bugs at night). Drawing on some other inspiration, the bat we’re talking about is a mammal, and looks a lot like its cousin, the rat. Now, imagine that you’re like on of those rats, and you see the bats flying around, and you want to be like that, what do you do? Grab some hang glider wings. Do something to make yourself airborne. The only thing that will limit your scorpio (rat-like) self is how high do you really think you can fly?

Sagittarius: I find the world of work, as described by employment wherein I have to give my time in order to earn an income — I’m just not real good at working for other people. I could be out on the boat, or I could be cuddled up at home with the cat. I just much prefer either one of my scenarios. However, the world of work as defined by earning an income, making ends meet, the old ball and chain, all of those unsavory definitions come into play right now. What to do about the “work thang”? Pretend. Pretend like you enjoy it. Pretend like you want to be there. Pretend like this is the most interesting task you have ever been assigned. Pretend like it really matters. The work world and the world of make-believe have a lot in common right now. Act like it matters, and see if you can’t get some good stuff out of it.

Capricorn: “Weekends were made for [insert a Capricorn favorite here]!” Now, take a long, hard look at that favorite form of pleasure. This is the way it works: not right now. After this coming weekend, though, then a number of things conspire to make your life a lot better. But for right now, just the next few days, take it easy on the wretched excesses that you enjoy so much. Doesn’t much matter how you take your pleasure, just go a little easier than usual. Then, starting next week, look forward to a number of really good things going on. Before I even get around to setting up the next scope, you’re going to be feeling much, much better. It’s just this coming weekend, and once we’re through that, our Capricorn selves will feel much better.

Aquarius: The big stuff is over with, and the little stuff is all around, but no real big deal. While I was out, the other night, I saw the strangest thing. Downtown Austin (where I live), like many other cities, has horse drawn carriages for the tourists to ride around in. It’s romantic, I guess, or something. But the horse drawn carriage I was looking at (to be honest, I was more entranced by the driver, a comely lass with a nice hat), the buggy operator had a cell phone glued to her ear. That’s just plain weird. A surrey with a fringe on top, and the cowgirl talking on a phone, at the same time. But to borrow from my image, you can combine a couple of elements like this. Maybe you don’t have a horse drawn vehicle, or maybe you don’t talk on the phone wile riding around in such, but you’d better be prepared to combine a couple of elements that don’t seem to fit together.

Pisces: One of my Pisces buddies just got a puppy. I’ve seen the dog, and its a mongrel breed if there ever was one, rescued from the animal shelter, but I’m pretty sure my Pisces buddy is right in his assumption that his puppy will grow into a fine coon dog some time. Good bird hound. “That dog’ll hunt,” I’ve been assured. There’s a sort of sticking feeling going on, and this Pisces puppy demonstrates that: he likes to chew on paper. Books, magazines, newspapers, anything that is printed on some derivative of wood pulp. When we were discussing behavioral attributes and the puppy’s propensity for chew toys, I offered a quick explanation: that dog was beaten, in a former life, by newspapers. You can be the dog right now, and chew on everything, or you can be the paper, it’s your call.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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