For the Week of: 5/15-21/2003
” The inaudible and noisless foot of Time.”
Shakespeare’s All’s Well That Ends Well [V.iii.41]
Mercury GRADUALLY corrects its errant path during the next couple of days. However, as Bubba notes, “We ain’t out of the woods yet, white boy.”
Taurus: My Taurus friend here? She planned a party, last week. Invited everyone to join her for an evening of entertainment at a local club on 6th Street [that street is supposedly like other famous entertainment districts, in case you miss the allusion, you know, the French Quarter, Deep Ellum, Boys Town, et al.]
The problem with the local “entertainment business” is that nightclubs have a typically short shelf-life, going in and out of business faster than most folks change shoes. Unbeknownst to my delicate Taurus flower of a friend, the club she opted to have everyone meet at, closed. Like about three days before hand. Worse, it wasn’t announced. So folks start showing up, and there’s a crowd gathering, and there’s no place to go. Of course, there is someplace to go, like the spot next door, but still, it upsets that delicate Taurus nature to have to rearrange the party, and at the last minute.
I don’t think this is an adequate solution, and it’s not something that I can openly condone, but let me just suggest, those of us who did finally make the party into a party? We made sure that the Taurus was in no condition to drive herself home, and we all helped by pitching in together to pay for her cab ride. It was a good party, even if it didn’t go according to the Taurus plan.
Gemini: Gratuitous cat story. Several years back, I received a bird feeder. Hung it up outside the back door of the trailer. Called it “cat TV” as that seemed to be what it was. My cat is a mighty hunter, at least in her dreams and what she reveals to me. Her actions are like your Gemini actions these days. She will position herself on the couch, in place where she can see out the door, and she’ll be poised to strike at the birds. I don’t think she’s really going to leap 8 or 10 feet in the air, but I know not to ever underestimate a woman. Then, the cat, in her deadly attack position, will fall asleep.
The question is, is this a problem? Not in the least. I like the fact that the cat is a “cheap purr,” and that she listens to me read Shakespeare stuff aloud. Rodents and birds are not her strong point, and I didn’t hire her for that job. The fact that these days she falls asleep while hunting doesn’t perturb me in the least. Stick with the strong points, that ability to listen, the way I can just look at her, and she’ll purr, yes, go with what works. If a nap on the job is required, then go for it. Mercury is leaving your Gemini self a little tired out. Works for the cat, should work for you, too.
Cancer: I depend on Texas wisdom as a source for answers to life’s questions. One of the notes I’ve got, came from a Cancer friend when he was dealing with particularly normal “Mercury Retrograde in Taurus” problem. His solution? “Tequila: the other white meat.”
Sort of sums up the way it’s going in Cancer land these days. There’s not a lot we can do about much of anything. One frustrating little event just leads to another frustrating little event, which, in turn, just leads to another set of problems. You no sooner get one problem licked, than two more crop up to demand your good Cancer attention.
What are you going to do? There’s a not a lot you can do, near as I can see. Not from my vantage point. Looking over your chart, all I could note was that it was a good thing this happened to someone else. The best I can offer? Like the man said, “Tequila: the other white meat.”
Leo: It’s been chronicled, by me, a number of times. I’ll leave with a friend of mine to run afternoon errands, or to take in a meal, and we stop off so she can do a little shopping. Being the nice guy that I am, I usually offer to carry whatever packages are acquired along the route. Sooner or later, we pass a store that sells “ladies’ supporting undergarments.”
The bra shop. The dreaded bra shop. Man, there is nothing in there that I’m interested in. I mean, no product I’m interested in. Prurient interests and tittering aside, I’ve resigned myself to waiting patiently by the front door. The better shops of this type usually provide seating for males just like myself. I think the funniest exchange, to date, happened overseas, “There’s just no way to look manly while waiting outside the dressing room, is there?” I asked the guy sitting next to me, surrounded by packages, like myself, “and what’s worse, she’s not even my girlfriend.” The guy, with a bemused grin, just looked at me, agreed to my first point, but then, as to the fact that the female I was waiting not being my girlfriend? “Oh, sure,” he said, with one of those tones that implied he didn’t believe me. [But it wasn’t my “girlfriend”–just a friend who is definitely female, and definitely a friend, but definitely NOT my girlfriend. Ask her, she’ll say I’m definitely not her boyfriend.]
You’re going to get stuck, in all probability, outside the dressing room of life, and no matter what you say or do, it’s just plain impossible to be your glorious self. Worse: no one believes you, even though you’re telling the absolute truth.
Virgo: I got e-mail the other day, and its contents pointed out one of the problems we’re all having these days, especially in the Virgo world. The substance of that note? “No one here at the office has an internet connection this morning, so I was just checking, your server is up, right?”
Let’s look at this in detail. No one at the office has web access, therefore, the problem must be on my end? You’re like me, you fail to see the logic in that, don’t you? Logic, as it’s normally assumed to be, it just doesn’t seem to be working these days. The fault is in the stars. More specifically, it’s in Mercury. You can either send–or receive–messages like the one I got. What you do with it, that’s what’s important. Try to be polite and nice even though the person on the other end is obviously lacking enough common sense to see the error of his or her ways.
Libra: I quit doing “Mercury Chronicles” because I was getting inundated with stories of woe, missed communications, and plans gone awry, some of which, would tear at your heartstrings. Not always amusing stuff. However, in most, if not all the examples that got sent to me, the problem was a simple matter of communication.
The message that got sent, and the way that message was received varied. Instead of me spinning up yet another cautionary tale about missed opportunities, let me suggest that you carefully examine your Libra communication processes over the next couple of days. You’re going to be tempted to fire off a letter, note, fax, or even e-mail. Look at it before you commit that note to the airwaves, wires, or even carrier pigeon. Never hurts to take a second look before you toss it out there. Might save some trouble a little later.
Scorpio: There’s a [Scorpio, imagine that] cantankerous old man who lives in Shady Acres. He’s a few trailers down from my spot. I was listening to some music, and it was one of those thoroughly modern pieces of music. All sounds, synthesizers, nothing that came from a real instrument, just bells and whistles [or drum and bass, if you will, again, all synthetic.] The deal is, with that one particular recording, the music gradually increases in volume, throughout the duration of the CD. Means it gets progressively louder. I thought it was kind of cool, but then, Mr. Cantankerous Scorpio was a little upset in that my music’s volume violated his understanding of the noise rules.
Now, if it had been Country Music, or if there had at least been a real steel guitar, I’m sure it wouldn’t have mattered. For that matter, the way the music was mixed, it kept getting louder, so when I started out, it was at an acceptable volume. Circumstances beyond my control, I guess, would have to be my excuse. You’re either the irate older gentleman, incessantly complaining to the management about me, or you’re just like me, dealing with an innocent problem, not really of your own making. Okay, let’s tell the truth, my fine Scorpio friend, you knew that music was going to get louder and louder, didn’t you? Do like I do, get up and turn down the stereo. It’s lot easier than fighting with the neighbors over some silly issue like musical tastes.
Sagittarius: Other than the usual errant Mercury stuff, and even that’s not too bad, the last few days, the next few days, all of it should be relatively smooth. Relative is the key phrase, though. Make sure you’re willing to put the problems, even some of the big troubles, into a proper light. Some of the things that are getting stirred up, mostly at work, aren’t that big of a deal. I’ll get a frantic e-mail from somebody, about how his or her Sagittarius life is dangling by a thin, gossamer of a thread. I’m not sure than any astrological insight can really make that much difference.
Doesn’t stop folks from asking, though. So I get these irritating e-mail requests for help [for free, no less]. It’s not the end of the world. In fact, what’ve I’ve discovered, if I just park that request–or demand–for assistance for a few minutes, I can come up with a less flippant answer. Sometimes, too, the sending party has figured out a solution to the problem. In other words, don’t jump every time the machine says, “you’ve a got a new message.” Mercury is a still toying with our communication skills, and being a little more patient with the system might save us some troubles.
Capricorn: SWT [University] is located about 30 miles or 30 minutes, south of Austin, in a town called San Marcos. There’s a typical Texas town square, courthouse in the middle, various shops and retail establishments are arrayed in a ring around the square. It’s, in my mind, pretty much a college town. Every modern college town sports a good coffee shop, some place where the espresso machine is the center of attention. I was in San Marcos, couple of weeks ago, and we stopped at the coffee shop, to grab some fuel for the rest of the evening.
I noticed, in this throw-back cultural icon coffee shop, there, sitting on the coffee table, underneath flyers for “Vegans for Democracy” and notices for open mic poetry readings, as well as a call for entries to the Easter parade, there was a copy of a magazine journal, “Guns of 2003.” So what’s weird about that? It’s a small town in Texas, yes, guns are common. It’s just that the ambiance of the place suggested one of those more “Austin” styles, the tree hugging, sandal wearing, crystal crunching, private part piercing, patchouli sniffing crowd. You’re going to run into a similar incongruity. Don’t freak out. Don’t make a scene. A calm, rational comment like, “Oh, cool,” goes a lot further and ruffles fewer feathers.
Aquarius: It was around 11:00 PM, a couple nights ago. I ran into a neighbor in the laundry room, “What’s up?” I avoided the obvious answer, “doing laundry,” and let him make a comment, as he had all the machines full of dirty clothes. “Yeah, I knew it was time to do laundry when the girls at work started saying things about how nice I was dressed.” I paused. “You see, I was out of jeans and T-shirts, so I was wearing the ‘hang up’ clothes, nice slacks, pressed shirt….” He trailed on, giving me a tired shrug.
Mr. Mars, currently in full swing through your sign, is kind of like that. You’re out of casual attire, and you start wearing the nice clothes. This isn’t so bad, as you’ll find that some folks seem to think that you — like me — clean up real nice. This of course, begs the question, why was I doing laundry at the same time as a tired Aquarius? I keep weird hours, didn’t faze me a bit. I was hoping to get in when there wasn’t a crowd. It’s not like they really have enough coin-operated washer and dryers at this trailer park. Such is life. So as Mars presses you for time? Either consider doing laundry at midnight, or, like my neighbor, try wearing the “hang up” clothes.
Pisces: Gratuitous cat story. Yes, I know it’s almost like pandering to the masses, and I realize some people don’t have cats, or, for that matter, even like the little fur balls. Or, in the case of my cat, a large fur ball. She’s started shedding, and it’s a mess. However, late at night, most nights when I’m home, I stretch out on the couch to read. She eventually parks herself on my chest, her front paws stretched out, and the gentle purr motor going full steam.
At one point, I’m pretty sure she goes to sleep in that position. I know, buried on the web site someplace, there’s a picture of me and the cat in that position. It’s wonderfully calming. In fact, I feel like evenings like that pretty much justify the terror I endure when she discovers her food bowl is close to being empty. Maybe you don’t have a cat who thinks “first light” in the morning is the proper time to serenade an owner. But somehow, you do have either a cat or a dog, maybe a boyfriend or girlfriend, who thinks that stretching out with you on the couch is a perfectly acceptable activity. It’s sort of a strange time, planets being where they are, and I’d think about that image of the cat on my chest, lightly snoring, or purring, as I can never tell the difference.
Aries: I’ve got a garden variety of males friends, all of them go by the sobriquet of “Bubba.” So I’m not sure who this is attributed, other than scribbled by the note, it says, “bubba.” “If I wanted raw fish, I’d have some M-80s, and I’d go fishing with them.” I do believe that was a comment directed to my suggestion of sushi as a culinary option one night.
Sounds about right. Maybe it doesn’t quite work out-of-context, but it makes a lot of sense. Any of my friends named “Bubba” could easily say something just like that. “Sushi? Raw fish? Like bait? No way.” Sushi should be a perfect food for Aries, it involves long filet knives, and it involves food that’s served really fast. Soak enough of that green hot sauce stuff they serve with it, and it’s got a spice to match the Aries sentiment: hot. I can’t correct the problems with Mercury, Venus or any other planet, but I can warn you to go a little easy on the stuff you do with filet knives. Real–or imagined–filet knives.
