“Toads, beetles, bats light on you!”
Shakespeare’s The Tempest (I.ii.342)
(Sound a lot like me cussing fish in the river that runs through Austin.)
January 22: the Birthday of Lord Byron (1788-1824) — the guy credited with inventing the term “Byronic.”
Aries: Ever feel like your attempts at communication just aren’t getting through? It’s like you keep trying to explain a point, and it just seems like no one is listening. Or, the other party, it’s not like, that they’re not listening, it’s just that they don’t seem to be paying attention to the details. Details that are important to yourself. Concise, terse, strident, action-oriented wording helps. Fewer word. Less punctuation. Trim down the excess. A shorter message gets your very valid Aries point across with stronger emphasis. It’s a function of having Mercury and Venus up in Capricorn and those guys make a 90-degree angle to Jupiter, opposite you in Libra. Plus there’s that ongoing Saturn thing. All adds up to you wanting to be verbose, and my suggesting is more editing. Fewer words get your point across in a far more effective manner.
Taurus: I was thinking about this one Taurus girl I know, and I have a unique ability to really irritate her. Doesn’t happen often, but every once in a long while — thanks be to Taurus-type patience — I’ll make a typical Sagittarius off-the-cuff comment and I’ll watch as my apparently innocent expression turns her face red. Then redder. I imagine I can steam coming out from under her collar. My comment wasn’t intended to irritate. I wasn’t looking for a fight. A comment about her pet dog, maybe a notation about the plants she’s got growing in front of her trailer, the color of the sky and her hazel eyes, who knows? I’m a guy — we make such comments from time to time. Just the way it goes. Now, I’m tuned into this sort of event, and the cause of the ire, so I’m going to be extra careful around my Taurus neighbor. I know that I have “the touch” for now. I’m going to be careful. However, not all Sagittarius-flavored folks are going to tread as delicately as I do. There’s always a healthy expression of anger, and then there’s the screaming hissy fit. Which one works best for Taurus? Maybe just avoid all Sagittarius types for the time being? Or whomever is the source of the ire?
Gemini: Worn out fishing analogy time. Yes, my fine little Gemini friends, it is time for another true tale from fishing area lakes. It’s about patience, diligence, and getting from where you are to where you want to be. We were in a boat, in a cove, the other week. Sort of windy out, so the cove was a nice change. There was a big mess of water weeds floating in the middle of cove. Hydrilla, if I recall correctly. It’s a known fact that the fish I like to catch love to hang out in the water weeds. So it was a matter of tossing the right bait into the middle of the weeds, then slowly dragging that bait back across the surface. I tried a couple of tricky baits, and I got no response. Undaunted, I mean, I could feel the fish in the weeds, so I tried a worm. Pink, a color that just doesn’t occur in nature, with a wiggly tail flap that resonates in the most enticing manner — apparently. I was pretty unsure of what I was doing, but I was getting a tad desperate. My fancy stuff wasn’t working. The pink worm? It didn’t work either. Then I switched to a floating day-glo worm, and I didn’t rig it in a fancy thread-the-hook-through-the-eye-and-loop-it-back-around way. I just stuck that hook in the middle. Gave it a toss. Bam! Big fish, first try. Look at what I had to do to catch that guy (girl fish, actually, let her go back so she could spawn): I sorted through a half-dozen variations until I hit the right combination. You never know what bait will work. You don’t know what Gemini trick will work. Keep trying. Keep sight of the goal, not how hard you’re working.
Cancer: I’m so tired of the “excellence in customer service” slogans that get bantered about when I call a help desk for some technical hand-holding. I got one person on the phone, and she wanted to know how I liked to be addressed. To which I replied, “Kramer, the Magnificent.” Without missing a beat, “Okay, Mr. Magnificent, what can I do to help you with a your problem?” I didn’t bother explaining that it wasn’t my problem, that the problem was with her company’s service, and she needed to correct something right away. But I was so tickled at being called “Mr. Magnificent,” I couldn’t keep a straight face. Luckily, it was on the phone. I sounded serious. I hope I sounded serious. Look: there’s a great deal of unwarranted tension, a little free-floating anxiety in the Cancer world. A little bit of humor, preferably dry humor, will help deal with this. The customer service rep? She was Cancer, of course. And I am Mr. Magnificent.
Leo: Next week, I mean, after this weekend, life in Leo land is going to be fun. One of the greatest pleasures I have is a schedule that allows me to fish almost every day. I wake up, deal with business issues, and then, after a period of “work-related-activity,” I pop out the door, usually barefoot, and amble towards the river’s edge. I take a pole, and I’ll try a just a couple of casts with some new bait. It’s wintertime. The fish just aren’t feeding. However, there’s a restful, meditative state invoked by the action of tossing a lure in the water for a few minutes. So until next week arrives, and I don’t care where it is that you find pleasure, take a little time to drop a line in the water. Or do whatever it is that you do, in order to feel a little bit better. Sometimes, just a few minutes fishing, or pursuing a similar activity, is just what you need.
Virgo: I looked at Mars, in Sagittarius, coming up hard and fast on Pluto, and I looked at Saturn, plus Venus and some other stuff, and I was about to pat the token Virgo girl on the head. “Temper, temper,” I was about to admonish. But as I followed that train of thought on through to its logical conclusion, I realized that I was withdrawing a stump of hand. Makes it hard to type horoscopes, with only a bloody stump left from what was supposed to be a gentle pat on the head. Like many pets, the Virgo can be irascible at times. Like right now. So I’m not the one who is going to patting any Virgo’s on their wee, pointy little heads these days. I understand the apparent frustration, but I’d like to suggest, from way over here, across the room, that you watch it with that Virgo bite. Can be quite deleterious at times, and I really do need both hands for typing — despite what the Virgo editor says.
Libra: A Libra friend (client, actually) moved into a new apartment, not far from where I live. First order of business? She painted the place. I got a call, around one in the morning, and she went on at length about how much trouble she was going through to make the new place totally acceptable and aesthetically pleasing. A couple of days later, I wandered on by, just for a little look at the place. The walls were painted a terrible dark shade of ocher. You know kind of yellow with a hint of orange, and the color really evokes nothing more than vile bile mixed with some day-old, half-digested TexMex meal, regurgitated and splattered on the wall. Of course, it could be me. Not like I’m known for any kind of valid aesthetics myself. The trim was done in a color that started as blood red, and there was some extra sienna (I think that’s the name) mixed into the base color. “Isn’t it cheery! I just love it like this!” She was going on and on about the wonderful, healing, calming effect of that new color scheme. I was getting depressed. Could be me. Could be the color scheme didn’t sit well with my (lack of) tastes. Could be that the place really needed it for her personal Chi — or whatever. I don’t live there, nor do I really visit very often. But this points to the problem you’re experiencing over the next few days. Might be a good time not to make decisions about redecorating, color schemes, fabrics, or new art for the walls. I’m not saying that your tastes are bad, I’m just suggesting that it might not be a good time to expend lot of energy in this area — not now. You might have to repaint next week.
Scorpio: There are certain issues that I, as a male, have to face in life. There’s a “hot sauce” store up, on the other side of the river. Walls are covered with tasty, delicate variations on theme, it’s all hot piquant and delicious versions of hot sauces. “Bubba’s bad-ass hot sauce,” “Ernie’s ass-kickin’ hot sauce,” “Ragin’ Cajun burn juice,” and so on. The names are fairly evocative of what one can expect from such a brew. There’s a scale, one to ten, of how hot a sauce is. This is where my manhood is questioned, and this where I have to draw a thin line in the sand. Or a thin line in what’s hot and what’s too hot. I came across some “Scorned Woman” branded hot sauce. On a scale of ten? It had an 11. That’s when I knew I’d met a sauce that was just too hot for my tastes. The very name implies that it would be too painful for a mere male too endure. To be completely honest, I was tempted to buy that stuff, just to try it out. But to be honest, I’m secure enough in my virility to know that I don’t need to damage myself in order to prove that I’m a man. Male. Over grown child. One of those. The point has nothing to do with hot sauce, or names of hot sauces. The point is knowing limits and knowing when to say “no.” There are some items on the shelf, and some of those culinary delicacies need to be left to braver — or more stupid — souls. Like “Scorned Woman Hot Sauce (11).”
Sagittarius: It rained the other evening, not one of those torrential downpours, but a gentle, light rain, more like a mist than really raining. The morning afterwards, I stepped out onto the shores of the river, and surveyed my Sagittarius domain. From the back porch of the trailer in shady Acres, the river was slightly murky, a little “stained” as the expression goes, and there was little extra layer of trash floating downstream. I tossed a lure out, not really hoping to catch anything but using the exercise of fishing as an excuse to stand by the edge of the river, look at the accumulated garbage wending its way elsewhere, and generally clear my mind. Inside the cozy (tiny) trailer, there was a hot pot of coffee, words to process, and so forth. But just for a moment, I was in a calm, serene place. Maybe floating garbage, paper cups, Styrofoam containers, the odd newspaper, sticks, branches, ducks, and so forth isn’t really that calming for everyone, but stop. If you’ll take a minute, some time in the next couple of days, you’re going to get a chance to stand by the side of the flowing river (real or imagined) and just watch while all sorts of garbage — other peoples’ garbage — goes drifting by. When it belongs to someone else, there’s something ultimately calming about the effect. You know it’s not yours, right?
Capricorn: I was listening to a buddy of mine, his name is most certainly not “Bubba” (although it should be), and he was holding forth about particular bit of etiquette. “You know that if everyone would just listen to me, and do what I say, this world would be a lot better shape.” Capricorn Sun in his chart — so I’d have to agree. Plus a couple of other planets in Capricorn, as well. Just like it is right now. Was like, anyway. Mr. Mercury and Miss Venus are still in Capricorn while Aquarius has just started. Which adds up to a chance for you to sound just like my buddy, “If folks would just do what I tell them to do, the world would be a better place.” I agree. I’m an astrologer, too. I know what planet is where, and I know what’s going on within your psyche. You’re going to run into some of the very same people my buddy was complaining about. If they’d only listen, you’d be a lot happier. Wouldn’t be in this mess. But those other signs? I’m just warning you, they have tendency not to listen to your sage, Capricorn wisdom when they should.
Aquarius: Your sign seems start a little late this year. Could just be me, too. Anyway, it’s the start of the best birthday wishes for Aquarius. Two small, almost insignificant, planets are lagging behind in getting up to speed with the whole “birthday” thing. Miss Venus and Mr. Mercury are still lagging behind. By no means does this indicate that it’s a bad time, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it does indicate that the one birthday card, birthday wish, birthday-something will be a little late in getting delivered. The scopes and the Sun itself both roll over at about the same time. Like I planned it that way. But I didn’t. The point is that there’s a small delay in some wish you have, and from where I sit, it looks like your wish will be delivered. Just late. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a good time, because, after all the waiting you’ve been through, it’s time for fun, engaging, entertaining events. Just for your fine Aquarius self.
Pisces: I was paying attention when she said that. I’m just glad I wasn’t picking up the tab, too. It was my dear little Pisces friend, and she was getting into her third or fourth Margarita, “Necessary for survival in an alien and inhospitable world.” Toast. Clink, the sound of ice cubes in the bottom of an empty glass. I can’t suggest that tequila and lime juice work for each and every Pisces, but you know, as an idea, as a concept, it works pretty well. The delightful concoction makes it possible to slide right on through another day. Then you can go on. I know I’ve heard that someplace else, and I can’t place it. Liquor doesn’t work for all Pisces, and I have personal aversion to Tequila, but from observations, I’ve found that there needs to be some kind of comfort sought out. A respite is desperately needed, and whatever form it takes, Margaritas at a place I know, just down the street comes to mind, it is a good way to get by. A little comfort in the company of friends is a good solution.
