Mayday, in three part harmony

Mayday, in three part harmony

Part Uno: There was a quip at the tail end of this week’s Capricorn scope, and an alert (male) reader finally explained it to me, thusly:

>> I still don’t know what those cylindrical paper and cotton items were,
>> either, I found them under the seat of her car.
>
> Dude, was there a string attached to them?
> You’re supposed to dip them in water, twirl ’em real fast and release –
> they’ll stick to ANYTHING they hit. Great fun!

Don’t think I’ll be tryting this activity anytime too soon, though.

Part Dos: Planets in trouble.
One of my favotire texts, one book that I still keep on my desk, even though I rarely use it any more, is Hand’s Planets in Transit.

I was in a meditative state, wondering about the course of the world, and whether I could hit the creek for a swim this afternoon, when that book crossed my mind. Then a new title came along, Planets in Trouble, or When Planets Go Bad and tie it all to retrograde woes.

Or tie it to planets who hang out in seedy joints, smoking too many cigarettes and looking rough, breaking hearts. Probably, all though not definitively, guitar slingers.

Part the Three-0: New Moon in Taurus. Excellent espresso on the way home. Just really, really good. Perfect? Maybe, done by a Virgo. No bitterness.

And while we’re on the subject of Taurus, one stopped by, “Man, I wish you’d never showed me astrofish.net, you know, I’m hooked on the kitty cam.”

Same birthday as Shakespeare, which I don’t touch, because, after all, the records from the fifteenth century in England are, at best a little sketchy.

Wayne Hancock
Saw Wayne “the train” Hancock on Saturday night. The crowd was a mix, but under the clear Austin sky, out on the lawn at Threadgill’s South, it was just about perfect. Stand up bass, two guitars, just about as good as it gets.

I’ve missed his show several times, but this one is worth catching. Funny guy. Excellent, clear and explicit lyrics – the way it’s supposed to be.

According to his banter, maybe a little too explicit. Still good.

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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