Fishing Guide to the Stars
by Kramer Wetzel
For the Week of: 2/6-12/2003
“What trust is in these times?”
Shakespeare’s Henry IV, part II [I.iii.100]
San Antonio: last weekend–Gonzales Convention Center.
Aquarius: I get so irritated at folks who insist on using the term, “Think outside the box.” It’s trite, overworked, and to be perfectly honest, every Aquarius I know has been “thinking outside the box” ever since they were born. This isn’t like, you know, a big deal or anything. Being able to perceive the outside world from a slightly different, somewhat askew perspective has always been a strength, not a weakness. The problem we’re facing as this Aquarian weekend rapidly approaches, is that there are still people populating your perfect Aquarian world who fail to understand your unique point of view. There are a couple of ways to deal with these folks. You can get upset. You can pitch a fit. You can throw a hellish temper tantrum. Regrettably, this sort of behavior just results in folks seeing you as a weirder and weirder [hard to imagine, folks thinking you more strange than you really are]. Those outward displays of emotion don’t really achieve their desired results, either. That’s part of the problem. Maybe just realizing that most folks aren’t quite as advanced, or, for that matter, most other signs can’t seem to keep up with you during this next few days, perhaps that would help.
Pisces: Some of the days are warm, some of the nights are bitterly cold. There’s a party atmosphere floating around, too, but that doesn’t amount to enough to overcome the general way you’re feeling. It’s not so much that there’s really a big deal as it’s just a little deal that seem to be working overtime. This little deal is eating away at you, maybe not in major, “I think I’ll develop an ulcer” way, but it’s one of those little problems you’ve been worrying over–perhaps, you’ve been worrying too much. Now, slow all of this worry, troublesome mind games, and the rest of the stuff that’s set you on edge, put all of aside for a spell. Buddy of mine called me up the other day. “Want to go fishing?” Course I do. We chased back and forth, worrying about it being too cold in the morning, and finally, I got the straight answer from my Pisces fishing buddy: he didn’t much care when, or where, he just wanted to get out of the house. I book out up to a week or three in advance, but I know you’ve got at least one fishing buddy you can call up. Go ahead, admit it: you just want to go fishing to get out of the house. This weekend is good for just such a pursuit.
Aries: There are lots of songs about waiting. Name a few. Hum a few bars. Sing one, quietly to yourself. It’s like “Waiting on the train,” or “Waiting for the rain,” or any combination thereof. There’s a local singer/songwriter who’s actually a Pisces, but for the sake of his annual birthday parties, we’ll call him an honorable mention Aries. Then there’s always that ultimate Country and Western song, by David Allan Coe. What’s with all the sappy country fried music, and why the copious allusions to “waiting”? Because you’re stuck. Aries is stuck waiting on something to happen. Aries and patience are like, well, insert your own cliché here. Oil and water? White and rye? Educated redneck? It’s like a question I got stuck on, one time, “What’s the difference between trailer trash and white trash?” It’s a subtle difference, I guess, you have to have a little of both to understand the nuance of the language. And I suppose that difference varies from location to location. It’s a convoluted example, but the point is clear, you’re waiting on something to happen, and it’s not happening fast enough. If I could turn back the hands of time, and make it happen yesterday, or even last week, it still wouldn’t be fast enough for your Aries taste. Slow down, we’re moving as fast as we can. Just like those “Desperados waiting for a train.” Or waiting on the rain. Or waiting for a horoscope that doesn’t have a gratuitous Country and Western allusion.
Taurus: It’s no secret that I occasionally buy a Texas State Lottery ticket. Unlike some astrologers, I don’t do this based on astrological timing. The one time I won something, I mean more than three dollars, it was a fluke because, astrologically, I shouldn’t have won a thing. But win I did. It was, in retrospect, at a time just like you’ve got going on. Sort of weird, a little lost, a little frantic, a little confused. Perhaps you’re a little unsure about what’s going on. Instead of trying to see some of this in a clear light, do like I do, go and buy a single lottery ticket. Or, if you want, you can just shoot me a dollar, and I’ll buy the ticket. I can’t promise either one of us will be particularly lucky, but it never hurts. However, I’ve got to stress that the maximum amount of money to bet is a single dollar bill. No more. In fact, if there’s an independent coffee shop populated by strange characters close at hand, maybe go over there, instead, and get a decent cup of coffee, and drop that dollar in the tip jar. None of this advice is costing more than one thin dime, that’s the good news. And you know you’re going to be a little confused about some directions, but ultimately, things are good. There’s a weird event or two, most likely after the weekend. Be patient; this stuff turns out for the best.
Gemini: One of my clever Gemini friends, Bubba, has this old Chevy he uses to commute to and from the farm to Austin. Seeing as how he got a day job and all that, he needed to cut down on the cost of getting from way out yonder to the “big city” [such as it is]. He was driving, talking to me on his mobile phone, and he was busy extolling the virtues of his new form of cruise control for that old car: duck tape. “Yeah, so I doubled over piece, and slid it under the gas pedal — that should work fine….” Right. No, wrong. Great idea, perhaps it would be efficient if he lived in Far West Texas, where highways stretch for miles and miles. Or if his commute didn’t wind up in a city with bad traffic and worse drivers. After a suitable expletive, I figured it was best if I didn’t stay on the phone to hear what happened next. It’s my guess that the cruise control didn’t work as well as it could. It’s also an example of a Gemini shortcut that might not be as expedient as you would like. The culprit is the relative position of Mars, and the answer is not duck tape under the accelerator pedal. Stay tuned, I’ll find out what happened next week.
Cancer: Pecan Pie. Peach cobbler. A homemade brownie. Imagine each of these specialty dessert items with a big, heaping scoop of genuine store-bought, homemade vanilla-bean ice cream on it. Each one of those desserts has a special place in my culinary memory. Regrettably, there’s also a problem associated with each of those tasty treats, and this next couple of days is a time when you want to consider indulging yourself. Let’s face the [astrological] facts: you’re going to indulge yourself at some point soon, if you haven’t already done it. The deal is, work out some kind of a self-limiting arrangement with yourself. While there are seven days in this horoscope, and I’ve only listed the top three options, there are certainly variations on these themes. However, if you think about it, maybe you don’t want to be including every possibility over the next few days. I’d suggest you pick one dessert option, try it once, and then use good, sound judgment and take a pass on the dessert indulgence over the next few days. Temptation is one thing, actually giving in to it another. Me? My Cancer self is going to try the Pecan Pie. Or the peach cobbler. But just once, not all week long.
Leo: I have a place in my mind where I live in a huge trailer, a doublewide, which can be towed behind a new truck. In my mind’s eye, I also have that new truck, and it’s painted to match the bass boat. Plus, in that imagination of mine, I have some pretty hefty sponsorship decals, which means I’m getting paid to run their ads. This is my fantasy world. This is not the real world. Here, in my version of reality, I live in a space that’s a lot smaller than that imagined one. [I think this place works out to a little over 300 square feet.] The truck’s old and broken down. The boat’s borrowed. Now, my imaginary world, and the real world, those two seldom match up. I’m self-aware enough to distinguish between what’s real and what’s not real. For my dear Leo friends, though, the line between what’s real and what’s not real gets to be a little difficult. It starts to get real blurry this weekend, and this just gets worse–or better–as next week unfolds. What are you going to do about it? How about nothing? Why not go ahead, since it’s such a strong influence, and be confused for the time being? Besides, sometimes that imaginary world is ever so much better than the real place. Reality can be such an ugly concept.
Virgo: When I travel, always for business, I keep it simple. I look at my schedule, log onto to the airlines’ web sites, scoop up a discount ticket, and then I’m booked. Log onto a hotel’s web site, book a room. Log onto a rent car site, book a rent car. I usually do this late at night, when the phone, the cat, and clients aren’t around to bother me. Makes it a lot easier. No travel agent, no way to change the cheap seats I buy. Makes life a lot easier. Folks at one end or the other get upset, and I realize I’m cutting some travel agent out of a commission, but I have to watch costs. The other advantage of traveling like this is that I can easily say, “It’s booked, those are the dates.” Makes it an open and shut case. Try it, especially over the next couple of days. Instead of worrying with something, changing it, changing it back, adding, subtracting, and making further emendations, leave it. “It’s booked. Those are the times.” Your Virgo self will find that the other parties involved will be a little more accommodating.
Libra: I had the worst time with a local astrologer. No, I mean she really hated me. Not in a polite, smile at your face way, I mean in a terrible, say bad things behind my back way. It’s part and parcel of the nasty world of business. The difference is, that one particular astrologer is no longer in the business of astrology. It didn’t work out for her, I guess. I kept getting referrals from her, too, not directly, but quite a few in indirect referrals. “Man, after what she said about you, I just had to come see you,” was what I usually heard. Same thing works for you. You’re finding a few of non-Libra, non-friendly types are running you down. You find that you seem to have a lot of combative types. You find that someone seems like they are trying to sully your good reputation. Fear not. Just like me, time and patience, plus a certain amount of perseverance, will help you through. Besides, you’ll find that you enjoy getting some of these referrals, even if the source seems a little oblique. It’s all part of the job of being a Libra.
Scorpio: When I fly business class on some airlines, they have this cute little kit the flight attendants hand out. It’s got a set of footy things, a toothbrush, and some other stuff. Earplugs, for one. I like the earplugs. I don’t need them for air travel. I don’t need them for hotel sleeping. But I do use those earplugs at rock concerts, or, even here in Austin, at certain venues, those “sound containment devices” are useful. This just bothers me a little, as I feel like I’m getting old. Think about it. Needing to stuff something in your ears because the music is deafening? At one point, though, self-preservation, and a little nod towards the day after the big event, such foresight is useful. That’s one reason you’re reading your horoscope. What I’m suggesting–it might not be earplugs but–is that there’s something you can do that goes a long way towards self-preservation. Yes, I’m perfectly aware of the bumper sticker saying, “If it’s too loud then you’re too old.” All I’m suggesting is that your taste and your sense of self-preservation need to get together. It could be something as simple as earplugs.
Sagittarius: Read the Gemini scope, the story about the duck tape and the accelerator pedal [true story]. It’s a cautionary tale, one about trying to take a shortcut in order to make your life a little easier, only, some shortcuts have disastrous consequences. You’re a Sagittarius, a wonderful sign, but we do have a tendency to try and take the easy way out, whenever possible. All I’m suggesting, what with Mars frying his way through our sign, is that this ain’t the best time to try the shortcuts. The old idea that, “if we just cheat a little, this would faster and easier” doesn’t apply. See, I’m looking further down the road than the average Sagittarius. I’m looking into the week after this week. This week, you get away with your timesaving shortcut. Next week, the week after, sometime like that, you get caught shaving a few seconds off your time, and you get in trouble for it. In other words, skipping a step right now might be beneficial, but if it’s something you can get caught for, then go ahead, save us both the trouble, do it the hard way. Do it the right way. Do it the way you’re supposed to. I’m just offering to save yourself from your Sagittarius self.
Capricorn: Sweet, gentle, delicate Capricorn friend. “What’s he really want? An introduction like that, he wants something, I know….” Seems to me that your Capricorn self is a little on edge about now. I was going to use this expression about “shooting yourself in the foot,” but that’s so cliché. Instead, I’ll use a different warning. One Capricorn buddy supposedly went duck hunting last fall. He was covering his tracks for a secret rendezvous. On his way home, after the weekend, he stopped by another buddy’s place to “borrow” some game, proof that he’d been hunting. During a time like this, you open up a package that’s supposed to be pheasant, or quail, and it turns out to be deer meat. Busted. You can cover your tracks, but with Venus in your sign, and Mr. Mars fast approaching your sign, maybe a little more truth, and a little less misinformation would be useful. Either that, or get your story and corroborating evidence synchronized better. Deer and duck are not the same thing.
(c) 2002, 2003 by Kramer Wetzel for astrofish.net
