“Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.”
Shakespeare’s Hamlet [I.iii.44]
Aries: Wasn’t it last weekend? I went fishing, and didn’t catch a thing. A few water weeds, maybe, but not much else. Upset? Why? I’d been out late the night before, and I was in no shape to be carrying on a conversation, much less trying to drag a lure through the water. It was a gorgeous morning, though. The sun burned its way up into the sky, high, clear day. Excellent time to be on the lake. Excellent companionship, too. I was a little tired, but I wasn’t too worried about the fish. See: I’m the lucky charm in this outfit. You’ve got a similar “lucky charm” effect going on with your Aries self. You might not be catching anything, in fact, you might not even be fully coherent, but that doesn’t stop you from wondering out loud about the current state of international affairs, the weather which has gotten unseasonably warm as of late, and the way the current president is–or is not–handling that situation correctly. It’s all chatter. Problem is, you’re not making a lot of sense. It’s either Mercury or it can be blamed on Mars/Venus, but whatever. Still didn’t stop my fishing buddy from reeling in a few good fish. Which makes it a good trip, even if your Aries self is not entirely coherent.
Taurus: So Mr. Mercury is up to his usual tricks — that’s for sure. Nothing can be done about that. Or maybe you can take some action. If you’ll pause long enough to consider just what your situation is, if you’ll stop and think about matters, then take a moment to reconsider, you will probably find that your first thought wasn’t the clearest, most concise manner in which to address the little Mercury problem. Sometimes, well, what I do, sit down on the patio and smoke a good cigar. Then have a little cup of coffee. Then I have a fresh, recharged idea about how to approach a problem. I’m not saying that cigars and coffee will work for everyone, particularly not a Taurus, but there’s some kind of inaction you can take. Give yourself a moment’s reprieve to “figure this out,” and before you jump on the first solution, stop. Is it really the best idea? With some situations that you’re facing, that first idea really isn’t so bad. But is there another solution? Might want to stop and analyze some of the possibilities before you jump on that first idea. Never hurts to keep your own council in matter like this. Or a situation.
Gemini: I used to buy really nice, expensive, name brand sunglasses. Made sense, to me. You know, it’s my eyes, always get the best protection, correct? I was on the road one weekend, and the sun unexpectedly popped out, so I stopped at the next gas station, filled up the truck, and bought a cheap pair of sunglasses. The advertising claimed that the model I purchased offered UV protection, and all that. Worked great. Did exactly what they were supposed to do. Maybe even looked stylish, but about that, I’m not sure. The glasses went fishing with me on the following weekend. When we left, before sunrise, sun glasses weren’t necessary. Once the fog burned off, though, they were quite handy for a spell. Something happened, I’m not sure what, but I had the cheap sunglasses off for a second. The lens from the left side popped out. I tinkered with it for a little while, and I toyed with the idea of wearing the shade with just one lens, but my fishing friends find me odd enough as it is, so I skipped that idea. Losing a lens is not that traumatic. It’s just a little inconvenient. Mercury isn’t traumatic, just a little inconvenient when you have to stop and pop that UV/Polarized protecting filter back into place.
Cancer: “Working for the man got you down, huh?” I ran into a friend on the street, and I must’ve looked unhappy. Not that I was unhappy, but I was chewing on a technical issue with a web server’s security, and I wasn’t too happy about the situation, although, it really wasn’t that big of deal, I was just mulling over some ideas and concepts. No big, hairy deal, just a problem, I was lost in thought. But I looked unhappy, apparently. I’m sure you’re familiar with this kind of a greeting, and I’m pretty sure, over the next few days, you’ll encounter it, possibly more than once. A ready smile is a nice asset, but that doesn’t fully address the problem, or the greeting, completely. But in a long wander, apparently looking dispiritedly at the ground beneath my footsteps, I did hit on a god idea, a way around the obstacle. The problem with my solution? It required some work on my part, and sometimes, I’m more lazy than not. Working for the man, indeed, I was just working through my own technical issue. Saturn’s like that, you know.
Leo: I had a flywheel on one race bike I built, it was special, one-off flywheel. A machinist had taken that flywheel and bored so many holes that it looked like proverbial “swiss cheese.” It was about 60% lighter than a stock flywheel, and it had been accurately balanced out, so that it would spin up to the motor’s maximum RPM quickly. Much quicker than a stock piece of equipment. On that particular motor, the usual flywheel had a ring gear all the way around it, for a starter motor to engage. On that super-trick, extra-modified flywheel, the gear teeth had all been ground off. To save weight. It was the least amount of metal possible. Came off of the shelf of a motorcycle shop with a weird owner, up yonder in Ft. Worth. It was originally intended for one of his toys, but somehow I wound up with that chard-looking equipment on my racer. It worked really well for one weekend. But then, in the heat of the moment, that flywheel sheared off. The outer portion of the wheel was not attached to the engine anymore. No clutch. No go. Revved up nice enough, just didn’t move forward. I’m not saying that you’re taking too many shortcuts, or trying to shave a little time off your lap time by shaving a little bit off the weight of the racer, but you have to watch out for trying too hard. Some experiments, although the earlier results are good, sometimes, you just need to wait a spell instead of trying to cut a little too much away.
Virgo: The week gets off so full of promise then dribbles into nothing. Or the week gets off with a “bang” then sort of fizzles out. Like some firecrackers I bought at the discount firecracker stand, not so long ago. The first half of the string popped just like it was supposed to, but apparently, either in the manufacturing process or in the storage and shipping, moisture had seeped into the packaging. Okay, so after we’d had our fun with firecrackers, we’d all trooped on over to a bonfire. I surreptitiously slipped those duds into the fire. The moisture dried out, and there was some more fun–except for Bubba. He was sure that there was incoming fire, and he was prepared to return the fire. A couple of my friends thought this was funny. Some folks saw humor in the action and reaction. Not everyone was amused, though. Starts off with a bang, fizzles out, then returns with some good humor. Be careful with the humor, though, not everyone finds our Virgo jokes amusing.
Libra: I was fishing, watching as my Libra-inspired “Zara Spook” wiggled and walked its way back towards the boat. That lure just has the nicest of action. Done right, with the little weights set properly, it dives down, just below the surface of the water, and it looks like a wounded minnow. Perfect pickings for a lazy, hungry, ornery bass. It’s just the most inviting of lures. Plus, the smallest version usually makes a good earring, too. But that morning, even though I thought it was the most inviting of lure, my buddy was doing a whole lot better [three or four fish to my zero fishes], and he took pity on me. He tossed me a bag a full of bright pink plastic things that looked a little like crawdads, some sort of mutant dream that was neither crawdad nor water dog. But still, the bright orange, the bright pink, and the enticing shape seemed to work. So you’re someplace, doing something with your ways of doing it, and your ways of doing don’t seem to be working. A friend calmly suggests trying something else. While I’m enamored of rigs that work as both earrings and fishing lures, sometimes one of those mutant pieces of plastic bait works better. Well, it doesn’t work better as an earring, but it does work better as a way to catch fish, purportedly the goal of the morning.
Scorpio: Get the most out of this coming weekend because next week? The Sun slides on over on into Taurus. While that’s not particularly bad, it’s not great either because Taurus is directly opposite from your wonderful Scorpio self. Means that a few folks are going to try–starting next week–to get in your way. Is this bad? Not really. I’m just doing a little pre-emptive warning about that sort of ill-considered behavior. That expression, “ill-considered behavior” can go two ways, too. It can be your Scorpio self getting all whacked out of shape because of something someone else is doing, or it can be someone else doing something that feels destined to really irritate you. Simple solution: don’t take the bait. Except, of course, if your Scorpio self is aware that you are being baited, and you really don’t mind that the rather enticing piece of bait, even if it really is nothing more than a cheap piece of brightly colored plastic with a metal barb sticking out of its posterior. This weekend is good, next week? Look out for the bait. Unless, of course, it’s attached to my Fishing Guide to the Stars Scorpio pole, then, by all means, help yourself. You know I’ll release you as soon as I get the requisite trophy picture.
Sagittarius: I ran into one of my little Sagittarius friends the other day. She was, according to her, having a bad hair day. She was behind the counter, steaming up a cappuccino for someone else. I was ordering a little espresso, just a quick lift on a sunny spring afternoon in Texas. I tend to judge a decent espresso by the amount of foam on the surface, looks a lot like a pint of English beer, as a matter of fact. Well, in miniature, of course. To take a shortcut, this one Sagittarius barista–the one with the bad hair day–just popped the espresso cup under the spigot for the machine. This, in turn, made for the most delightful foam, or head, I guess, on the espresso itself. As far as her hair? It was swept back and tucked into a folded-over ponytail, and long strands of bangs plus stray strands of hair were falling down around her lovely Sagittarius face. Wasn’t bad looking at all, perhaps, a little a disheveled, but not unattractive. One of those cross looks, like a cross between a harried librarian, and maybe a super model or something. Or something akin to that. Wasn’t a bad look. Mars and Venus are opposite her Sagittarius Sun. She took a shortcut that worked out beautifully for me. Her Sagittarius appearance, a bit flustered, and she was sure that everything was out of place, looked like a studied attempt to look harried. Relax, even though we still have that Mars and Venus pressure, we can pull this off. Might not feel great, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have other folks looking.
Capricorn: You’ve been banging away at a problem, I’m not sure that this has to do with work, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was work. Or career-related kind of obstacle. You’ve been banging your pretty little Capricorn head into this “difficult situation” for a while, maybe a week or more. It’s just not getting the happy resolution that you want. Most of your friends have told you to “be patient,” and you’re about sick of hearing other folks tell you what to do. You’re more than willing to listen to helpful suggestions, but I’m pretty sure no one really quite “gets” what the problem is, nor, for that matter, do any of them really have a decent suggestion, which works right. Look: I don’t have a solution to your problem. But I do know that the sun will shift into Taurus next week, and when that happens, there will be a miraculous discovery on your Capricorn self’s part. That missing link, that missing part, that missing “thing,” whatever the solution to that problem? It shows up, appears, pops into your mind, something. Next week. Until then? Until then, I’m doomed to sound like a passel of your friends, “Just be patient.”
Aquarius: I watched as a new resident at Shady Acres returned home the other evening. He had a Styrofoam container full of burrito, beans and rice. Under one arms, he six-pack of Lone Star “tallboys,” ready to consume. That’s a guy who has his life all worked out right. He was going to sit in front of the TV, have some dinner, wash it down with some good, inexpensive beer, and be entertained. It’s the good life. Or maybe it’s the cheap life, but it is the life of Aquarius. Sort of an odd duck, that one guy, long, flaming read hair, glasses, usually dresses in requisite musician black, fairly pale complexion, but not adverse to being in the sun, in short, he’s an Aquarius. I’d take a tip from his endeavors, too. Instead of looking for that high-falutin’ answer, instead of seeking something that does not want to be found, look for a little joy in the simpler things in life. Like a six of cheap of beer and a big burrito from down the street. The food’s actually quite good, you know.
Pisces: Sleep deprivation is not a pretty thing. It makes the typical Pisces cranky. The sleep-deprived Pisces isn’t happy and tends to snarl at even the mildest of comments. It’s an odd combination of planets, and the problem is two-fold: the planet Uranus and the phase of the moon. You’ll be dog-tired, ready for a long nap, a sound night’s sleep, and instead, you wake up after about two hours of sleep, and you’ll spend the rest of the night all tangled up in the covers, not sleeping, but not wanting to get up, either. That’s a problem. There are various chemical, natural, homeopathic, allergenic, and who knows what else methods of attempting to get some much-needed scheduled rest. Over this coming weekend, most of those won’t work. When I’m faced with this kind of a problem, I read a book. I find a boring old textbook that I meant to read a while back, and just thumbing through and settling in sets my head to nodding off. It’s not a chemical reaction, either, just a trained response.
