For the Week of: 4/10-16/2003
“Slander, Whose tongue is sharper than the sword’s,.”
Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale [II.iii.84]
The term “maverick” is from derived from a San Antonio native. In 25 words or less, offer up [with proper citations for sources] the root of the word. Winner’s are eligible for a free [e-mail delivery only] “el-cheapo” chart report. Or similar prize. Graft, gratuities and similar inducements are encouraged. Address all essay answers to the cat. (Some restrictions apply; contest ends at midnight 4/15/2003.)
Aries: The pressure should be lessening by now. I mean, by the time you get around to reading this, you should be feeling a little bit better. Last week, and the start of this week, it’s kind of like one of those lingering hangovers. I wouldn’t know anything about that myself, not being what you call, “a drinking man,” I don’t know exactly what this is like. But I’ve read about it often enough, and I’ve seen my friends, the morning after, the day after, and in one case, poor guy, a week later.
He really did swear off drinking for forever, not sure how good that was. Instead of swearing off forever and ever, though, given where Mars is in your chart, maybe think about just using a little more moderation. This doesn’t have to apply to drinking, either, it could be any number of excesses that you’ve been engaging in. You should find that the pressure looks like it’s more of an Aries internal pressure, is starting to go a little easier on your own Aries psyche.
Taurus: “So did I tell you about the one….” Yes. “How about the time that….” Yes. “Or there was that situation where….” Heard that one, too. My fine Taurus friend, instead of repeating old stories, instead of sending out jokes that have long outlived their usefulness, how about using some of this recent influx of Mercury energy to do something useful? I know, it reminds you of a time when, and then you launch into another story.
That’s nice. My suggestion still stays: we’ve probably heard your stories a time or two. Nothing new. I’ll agree that usually you’re the most mellifluous of the signs. And I’ll tell you that I like listening to you talk, most of the time. But I’ll also warn you, over the course of the next couple of days, you’re going to be inclined to rattle on and on, and frankly, none of us [any of the other signs] are interested in hearing what you’ve got to say. Got a friend like this, no story is complete until he’s told it about three different times. I’ve always been amazed at his extemporaneous content, and the way he can change the story just enough to make it more amusing. Never let the facts interfere with the plot or the tale. Sure, nice idea.
The problem is, my most excellent Taurus friend, we’ve heard all your stories, jokes, jibes and diatribes a time or two. Sit on your hands for a little while, I’ll promise you a good, attentive audience in a little while, but not over the next couple of days.
Gemini: I wonder if that teacher ever realized what she was doing. She once told me I had a “golden tongue.” I acted dismayed. She clarified, “It’s more like a ‘golden shovel’ with you.” I’m drawing your precocious Gemini attention to the “golden tongue” and “golden shovel” analogy. Yes, here in Texas, when we pile it on, we pile it on really deep. Of course, we also have mannerism and affectations of speech that assist us in our endeavor to win our ways with words. It’s a matter of talking pretty. I know you can do. If you seem to be losing the battle with spare, sparse prose, try ratcheting the noise up a notch. Use that ability you’ve got to make the whole thing more palatable under a torrent of Gemini ad-lib, humorous, anecdotal, evidence.
There are a two ways to win folks over, and if the facts don’t seem to be working in your favor, then modify what you’re telling us in order to get your point across. “Facts,” in fact, can be quite malleable. Modify as you see fit to make the story line a little better. A little, pretty, wording can sure help matters.
Cancer: Look: not every Virgo person is an anal-retentive, obsessed with cleanliness, detail-oriented person. Not every Virgo is like that. To be sure, they all have there moments, and I’m sure you know at least on Virgo-type person. You get this picture? You know the one I’m talking about, the ones who worry about obsessively worrying about details, who can’t do anything if the entire area is not sterile and hygienic, the ones who are so worried that some minute detail might elude their grasp? Yes, that obsessive Virgo stuff will drive some sane people rather crazy.
Look: you’re not a Virgo. You’re not obsessive-compulsive about cleaning, hygiene, or being tidy. But there’s a hint, from Mars, the Sun and even a couple of other planets. Think about that obsessive trait, especially when it comes to cleaning your own home. I’m leading up to something here, a little extra time spent cleaning up the Cancer trailer, and you’ll find, as the next few weeks and months unfold, this is a good thing. The efforts you expend over the next couple of days, getting your own stuff in order, the better off you are, a little later. Consider a little “spring cleaning” is in order for your Cancer self. [It is springtime in the Northern Hemisphere, for that one reader in Australia, consider it “Fall” cleaning, I guess.]
Leo: Make a wish list. Make it this weekend. Set aside a little time to daydream, a little time to make imponderable, improbable and seemingly unreachable goals. Fetch yourself a little ink, some parchment, and list out what it is that you really want. It’s called a “wish list” for a reason — these are dreams. Items, events, circumstances that seem impossible to ever attain.
Me? I keep hoping I’ll make it to a Fishing TV program, one where folks listen to every word, and a place where every cast catches something big [besides underwater vegetation]. You’re goal might not be a your own fishing program on TV, but it could be something like that. A little bit of good stuff. There’s this really cute little card and knick-knack shop, not far from an Amy’s Ice Cream, on Sixth, next to Waterloo Records. With ice cream dripping down the side of the cup, me and whomever, would usually wonder into the shop. They used to carry hats, among other items. That one time, I found a hat, with a fishing lure, and the date of the lure’s design. Which, coincidently, matched my year of birth. I took it as a sign. That hat’s pretty beat up now, the bill is bent in an irregular fashion, some of the color has started to fade, and it doesn’t retain any of its original shape [or glory]. But it was the perfect hat for the time. And it continues to bring me good luck in certain situations. Look at that wish list, you could wind up with a lucky hat like I did. Not as good as a TV show, but you know, it’s lasted a lot longer.
Virgo: Talk about your natural fit. We had a cold night, last week, and as I was shivering, I realized that there was an easy solution to being so cold [it was getting well below an acceptable 75 degrees], I could put some clothes on. By the time February rolls into a town, I’m ready to be barefoot and in shorts until my birthday comes up again.
Local events and the weather don’t always agree with me, but that recent cold snap made me think about the way my particular, hand-made in Texas, cowboy boots fit. They fit just like slippers. What’s even better, I couldn’t go out and work a shovel, ankle deep in “compost” like I’ve done before. Slippers don’t provide ankle coverage. Don’t roll your Virgo eyes at me–this is important. “Ankle-deep might be right, but I think Kramer’s shoveling something this way,” your Virgo self thinks. Nope, this isn’t an ad for particular brand of boots.
This is about comfort. What fits, what works, and what is efficient for your Virgo self. Not everyone can wear boots, and not everyone thinks that we should all be barefoot and half-naked in April. But these are my comfort zones. You’ve got comfort zones, as well-defined as mine, and you can really benefit from sticking to those comfort zones for the next couple of days. It’s like slipping into a pair of comfortable boots.
Libra: Stop. Listen. Look. Three, very short, commands. I was just getting through security at the little Dallas airport [Dallas Love Field], and after being cleared, turning on my computer, and so forth, I winced as the metal detector went off when a cop came through. I stopped in my headlong rush to make a nice comment to the officer, and I asked if this wasn’t just about the cushiest gig possible.
“Man, this better than retirement. Hardest part is sitting at the desk, we have a two hour limit on that.” I had to allow as that would be a big problem, trying to sit at a booth and look authoritarian without getting bored. Or without getting a seriously sore backside. Maybe I don’t look really suspicious. Maybe I’m not much of a threat. I carry as little metal as possible when I travel, just to make this sort of thing easy–all the hardware goes in the checked baggage.
I’ve got this down to a fine art, this traveling thing. And I like being friendly with the guys who’ve got the sidearms. Just sort of a nice gesture, I figure. You might want to try this sort of line, as well, especially since you’re in a position where being friendly with certain authority figures can help pave your way through this mess of the next couple of days. Before you take action, stop, look and listen to what the authority figures have to say.
Scorpio: Ma Wetzel went to Paris [that would be Paris France as opposed to Paris Texas, which would’ve been a lot closer, but not nearly as effective for a horoscope]. [And no French jokes! It was a business trip for her.] I had to ask, see, in every thing I’ve seen on TV, it’s possible to see the Eiffel Tower from any window. Doesn’t matter where you are, there’s the lovely Eiffel Tower, in every scene. I suppose it’s a lot like pickup trucks in Texas, or cattle, or horses. When I was overseas, everyone assumed, I guess it was the cowboy hat, that I drove a truck [which I do], that I had a ranch [which I don’t] and that I rode horses every day [again, another thing, which I don’t do]. I’m also sure, like that picture of the Eiffel Tower in every window, my six-shooter [nope], some of this is just made up from odd bits of lore, popular culture, and some of it is strictly mythology.
The Paris tourist bureau might have something to do with it, too. Although, maybe in France, they have a rule about TV cameras, if you’re filming, you have to make sure that the Eiffel Tower is in the background. Who knows? As my typical Scorpio, Ma Wetzel was unwilling to confirm or deny that the Eiffel tower was present in every window. She didn’t care to comment about such things. Or she didn’t want to commit to a definite answer. While that’s not a typical Scorpio response, think about. As the questions start to pile up, you might wish to take a firm path, right down the middle. I’m not so sure that this is a good time to commit to anything definite. A well-placed “maybe” is equally useful.
Sagittarius: Ostentatious displays of wealth vary. Where I’m from, a fancy European sports car or similar luxury vehicle doesn’t get much attention. “Benz? So?” To my friends, a really cool vehicle is something more like an F-350 Diesel. Now that’s a ride. It takes up two city blocks. If you can afford the fuel for one of those, you can also afford an extra 40 acres on which to park such a vehicle. That’s what’s impressive. That qualifies as a status symbol.
It’s also a rather overt display of wealth, bordering on the bounds of good tastes and excess. However, to at least one of my buddies, it’s not excessive. He needs that power to pull stumps from the back forty, and he’s got a 22-footer bass boat, that big truck pulls that boat and tandem trailer with ease. What good would a puny and expensive little sports car be, especially on of those Italian jobbies? Can you pull a boat or stump? Can you even carry hay in the back? So while our overt displays of conspicuous consumption might be deemed excessive by some standards, it works around here. Your mileage may vary, but your considering a similar “big-ticket” item. Make sure you can get your money’s worth out whatever it is you’re about to buy.
Capricorn: “I’m running and gunning, and a little bit hazy. Got a tattoo on the day they paid me, I don’t know why, I must be a little crazy….” The lyrics are from a bootleg Hank Williams III album. What does a Sagittarius Punk Country singer have to do with you? You’re just like him, or like the lyrics suggest, you’re running and gunning, and maybe just a little bit crazy. I’m less sure of the hazy part, but yes, that could be you, too.
As the song suggests, you might be a little unsure about what motivates you, but that doesn’t matter, not with Mars frying his way through your sign. Before you start gunning your Capricorn motor, though, think about what it looks like. I usually have a sardonic, wry comment to make when someone burns rubber, “Wish I could be that cool.” Dry delivery, a look in my eyes. Before you start running and gunning, maybe you should think about it a little. Mars motivates, but Mars doesn’t always provide a rational motivation. All I’m suggesting, before you peel out of the parking lot of life, stop and assess you situation.
Aquarius: I spent a portion of my misspent youth, running around the American Southwest. I was looking for roots, as it were. New Mexico, Arizona, Southern Colorado, even Southern California. What I discovered was I never need to look any further than my own backyard. I know I’ve heard than kind of wisdom elsewhere, too. Let my meanderings and travels help you, though.
It’s sort of tough time. Not too tough, mind you, but “over there”? The grass only appears to be greener. The real secret is that they use special fertilizer that makes their grass look greener. It’s a trick of the light, a little bit of subtle misdirection. Don’t automatically assume that over there is better than right where you’re at. Change is good, but change, just for the sake of change, isn’t always the best idea. Maybe a little exploration is order before you just pack up and move.
Pisces: A couple of months ago, when there was a rare winter’s day when it wasn’t too cold out, so maybe that’s not so rare in Central Texas, we went fishing. Great idea. The sun was out, the air was crisp, when the boat gets up on the plane, blasting across the lake, there’s a feeling of contentment and well-being that surrounds me.
Problem being, that was the best part of the day. Caught zero [0] fish. Crankbait, lures, plastic worms, little wiggly plastic jigs, even a modified Carolina-rig didn’t work. Old Faithful, a rattle trap, even that didn’t yield any interest from the fish. Water was too cold, I guess. The fish weren’t feeding. Whatever. The Game Warden was, though, but I guess that’s another story.
Was the day a total loss? Hardly. We go out, we went fishing, we got to observe nature, and like I alluded to before, there’s a special feeling when the boat gets up on the plane, around 50 knots, even the moderate chop from the lake smoothes out. And while it’s hard to use the metaphor of “blasting” across the lake, that sort of explosive energy cuts a good metaphor. Get out. Go fishing. Go do something. Your efforts might result in no fish, but that’s not the true measure of success, now is it?
