For the Week of: 1.27-2.2.2005

“She is mine own
And I as rich in having such a jewel
As twenty seas, if all their sands were pearl,
The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.”
Shakespeare’s The Two Gentlemen of Verona (Act II, scene iv)
Jupiter goes retrograde in the middle of Libra.

Aries: Squelch and gain are the two little buttons on the Aries that seem so important. Especially now. I don’t remember which button does what, but one of the buttons cuts down on the amount static coming through, and the other button helps send out a more clear message. Or something like that. So it’s back the squelch and gain buttons for your ability to communicate. You need to fiddle with the controls to make your message more clear. Lower the volume, raise the volume, fiddle with the knobs or sliders on the Aries control board. Crank up the bass channel a little, lower some of the screeching highs, and certainly, watch out for that feedback. I watched as one performer stepped up to a microphone, and he was immediately shocked. Plus there was some feedback and that wasn’t warmly welcomed. Not like it was intended that way. The audio portion of the Aries worlds is suffering from a basically stationary Jupiter in opposition to your sign. What to do about that? Fiddle with the controls. Play with the soundboard. Do another sound check. “Test. Testing, one two, this thing on? Can you hear me?”

Taurus: I got stuck with an image in my mind, and it’s one of my special Taurus friends, stuck at the office, her desk just covered with stacks and stacks of papers. The phone doesn’t stop ringing, and every call is a “high priority emergency” call. Sure, 43 calls in row, they can’t all be that bad. In fact, it’s not that bad, but after having a Thursday or Friday feel like Monday, your mighty fine Taurus starts to worry about what the weekend will bring, or what’s Monday going to be like…. More of the same, I’m sure. There’s a lot frantic, frenetic activity just kicking your Taurus backside. Ain’t nothing I can do about that. What I can do is warn you, and offer a few tips for dealing with this kind of overload. Well, one tip anyway. Just as a suggestion, when the workload seems to be at its peak, when you feel like there’s just nothing left to give, and no way out of the problem disastrous litter scattered everywhere, think about a fishing trip. Take some of that stuff with you on that mental fishing trip. Dump it in the lake. Makes for good catfish food, or something. Biodegrades with easy, as it’s all mostly paper. Now, when you come back the mental excursion, all that material is still piled high and deep, but you’ll feel a little better about attacking the problems.

Gemini: I was at a party the other evening, a late Capricorn birthday or something, and a very attractive young lady comes up to me and starts talking to me like I knew her. “Yeah, when what you said about my birthday, you were so right, and are you going Vegas again? Any time soon? You’d be fun to go to Vegas with, I’m sure,” she said, then gave me a little leer. Her attire hinted at ample cleavage without actually revealing it, and she was a fresh-faced youth, in her prime, trying to get my attention. As I discovered a little later in the conversation, I’d done a reading for her one working weekend. I usually remember pretty Gemini girls, but I must’ve been terribly busy that weekend. I don’t have any excuses. Too young? Yeah, that’ll work. This memory popped up when I was looking at the Gemini chart for the coming days. Like as not, you’re going to find yourself in a very similar predicament. Some adorable, flatteringly adorable person comes up to you and starts talking, and for the life of yourself, you can’t remember where — or how — you supposedly know this person. It’s a function of the mental processes that are al going on. You can’t remember from where, or how, but there’s almost too much going on in your head. Just wing it, but I suppose, that’s a redundant phrase for a Gemini.

Cancer: We all have different methods for “taking the edge off,” as the expression goes. Personally, I find that even a few minutes with a fishing pole in hand usually does a good job of getting my mind off of what is troubling it. Just a quick trip the river’s edge, pole in hand, and little time spent practicing the art of fishing, and I’m like a new person. I know one Cancer female, and she doesn’t like to fish. However, a nice libation of tequila and fresh squeezed limes works for her. I don’t understand that, but whatever works, works. It’s matter of finding something to take the edge off. The deal is, a few, quiet, reflective moments when you actively try to forget the problems? That presents you with a whole new set of problems, but, at the same time, while you’re actively not thinking about the old problems, new solutions to old problems pop up. Two planets are moving backwards and they’re going to bring up old and new troubles. However, as Jupiter turns himself backwards, there will be a new solution to an old problem, if you don’t think about it for while.

Leo: With the relative movement of Jupiter — or really, in my terms, relative lack of movement — my fine Leo friends are finding themselves with a bit of communication trouble. It’s not a big problem, it’s just that you’re more loquacious than ever, and the target audience seems to be not listening. That’s a problem, especially for the Leo who is always right. The deal is, sometimes it takes more than try to get your message across. Sometimes, it takes two three times for the right Leo vocal message (or written note) to find its way into the right ear (or in box). Don’t be afraid to try packaging your message up in a variety of formats, and don’t be upset if the first try doesn’t seem t get through. You might be pleasantly surprised to find out, a little later, that all your messages were received.

Virgo: Most area lakes have a “slot limit” on them. That means, either a fish has to be under 14 inches, or over 24 inches in order to be considered a keeper. That slot in between? Got to let those guys go back so they can grow up into bigger fish. There’s something very much like a “slot limit” working in your Virgo-esque life at this point. I can imagine that you’re throwing down a project, and that project falls in between the markers for the slot limit. Either you’ve done too much work, or you haven’t done enough work. My bet is that you’ve done too much work. And my wager goes further, too, in that you’ve done a little over achieving. As such, your project is approaching that upper limit on the slot. But we’re not all there yet. One of the most important things to remember? Trying to keep a fish who doesn’t quite measure up? Like a fish that’s 23 inches long? The one time you try and keep that non-keeper, along comes Mr. Park Ranger, and you get ticket. Remember what the slot limit is, and don’t be afraid to release the ones that don’t quite measure up.

Libra: There are three of four fishing poles, rigged with an assortment of tackle, leaning up against the wall, just inside my front door. Fishing Guide to the Stars, what did you expect? There’s also a telescope parked out back, but never mind that now. Those fishing poles see a variety of uses, from boats and bank fishing to an occasional pond or creek. But they are hazard here, at home. It’s possible for the poles and their lines to become a tangled mess. One falls over, and the rest usually go with it. It’s not a pretty sight. Lures become enmeshed with the line from different poles and reels, and the whole thing looks like a comic scene of slapstick. Just as one pole starts to fall, I’m busy trying to catch the pole and prevent the usual problem. As Jupiter starts to slide backwards? You’re just like me, trying to catch one pole to prevent everything from winding up as a (comic) heap of snarled lines and sharp hooks, on the floor. Success? Only if you move slow — not fast.

Scorpio: I was listening to a client call, one of my Scorpio friends, and she was complaining because she’d lost a very important piece of paper. It was a gift certificate for a restaurant, and she was bemoaning the fate of that paper. Rather expensive paper, too. But she’d torn her truck apart, looking for it, and she just couldn’t find it. I’ve ridden with her from time to time, and it’s not like she keep the inside of her vehicle too clean or anything. Like most commuters, her truck has that “lived in” feeling about it. Food, CDs, wrappers, junk mail, phone cords, it’s all there. No wonder she couldn’t find the lost certificate. But on the upside, as every Scorpio tale should have a positive spin to it, she did get her vehicle cleaned out, well, the cab, anyway. Now, a day and a half later, she called me from work, and she told me that I was no help whatsoever, but she had found the missing gift certificate, at home, where she’d left it. Last place she looked, too — imagine that. I don’t recall her ever asking me to find the missing paper, I just listened to the complaints. But if she’d asked, I would’ve told her it was probably not in her truck. The Scorpio chart for this next couple of days? It’s probably not where you’re looking for it. In fact, whatever it is that you’re looking for? Probably at home, on the dresser. Someplace obvious — that’s why you can’t find it.

Sagittarius: For about three days, right around the Full Moon, according to fishing lore, the chances of getting a bite are heightened because, according to theory, the fish are more active. I’d include the term “angry,” too, as it’s been my experience that the littler fellers put up more of a fight at this time. They don’t just peacefully let themselves get reeled in for a requisite photo-op, and then splash back into the lake. Oh no, it’s got to be struggle with the gaping maw of a bass, a lure stuck in his lip, my bait trailing alongside, trying to shake that thing out of its mouth. More fun, perhaps for both of us. So we’ve got three days, coming up, right around this full moon, when life is more interesting. The only exhortation I’ve got, and it’s kind of a big deal, see, make sure you’re the fisher=person at this time. No need to be the guy, the fish, on the other end of the line, struggling. Mars and Pluto line up in a way that’s very much like that Full Moon Fish, a lot more fight per ounce than usual.

Capricorn: I like listening to the old men sit around and swap fishing stories. One of my favorite tales, because something like this has happened to me, is the story about a guy who was just trying to shake the water weeds (mostly hydrilla) off his lure, right next to the boat. The action of that particular kind of lure, a Rat-L-Trap (some brand designation goes here), it has little ball-bearings inside so it rattles when it moves, that action obviously attracted a decent looking target fish. Nice fish, according to the story. The way the old boy was telling it, he was just shaking the water weeds off the lure, sort of dancing the lure in the water right by the boat when a big bass took the bait. Quick hook set, and it was net time, just like that. Hardly any distance to fight, I mean, it was right there by the edge of the boat. I can’t tell you if the story is true, but I’ve had a remarkably similar experience, right at the edge of the pond. I’m not even sure if you’re using a Rat-L-Trap, fishing in water weeds, or if it’s something else. But when you least expect it, some of that special noise will attract what you want. Be ready with a net this next week — you’ll probably need it.

Aquarius: For the uninitiated, we need to review a little bit of local fishing language. A “dink” is small bass, usually about two-three pounds and maybe a foot in length. I’ve had larger ones, but then, during the struggle to get the fish up for the requisite photo-op, I’m sure they’ve shed a lot of weight. The other term? Lunker. Also: Hawg. Either phrase works. In a local bass fishing tournament, one guy had one big fish. Weighed in at just a tad over 9 pounds. That’s a nice fish. Respectable. Hold your head (and the fish) up with pride. Hawg. However, in that tournament, the way it works, the winner (gets all the money) was a guy with five dinks. Five fish at three pounds is lot more than one fish at nine pounds. It’s your birthday time, and good things are all destined to get to you. Personally, (depends on the day, the lake and many other factors), I usually prefer to land a bunch of dinks instead of one big hawg. Follow me on this one, I’m picking Aquarius as a winner. This week. Last week, I told you to be patient. This week, you’re the winner. I don’t know that you’ll catch one, big lunker, but I’ll bet you can keep all the money by catching a bunch of medium-sized fish.

Pisces: Gambling stories, oh sure, I’ve got plenty of them. I tend to avoid the trips to the casino wherein I drop more money than I make. But I do have examples of walking out of a casino with more money than I walked in with. Several stories. After working in El Paso for weekend, we’d hop across the line to New Mexico and play at one of the Indian Casinos, conveniently located right across the state’s political demarcation and yet, virtually still in the city’s limits. It wasn’t a busy night for the casino, but it wasn’t too slow. I kept going back this one machine, and every time I tried to slide a $20 bill into that machine, it would spit the money back out at me. Wouldn’t take any of my singles, fives, tens, or even that one twenty. At the other end of the slots parlor, there was a quarter machine that loved me. It swallowed up all my money, and I played one $20 for almost an hour, eventually walking away with over $100 (in quarters, no less). The deal is signs. That machine that wouldn’t take my money? It’s a sure sign I didn’t need to play it. And the other machine that loved me so? Sure sign that I needed to be playing it. In fact, on that one machine, I hit a limit, and they had to fill the coin hopper — twice. Not a bad haul. Deal was, that kind of machine? Rumor has it, that it will jackpot three times, then it’s done for the night. After that third jackpot, when I did so well? I played for a few more minutes, but that was it for the night. (The moon moved into another sign, too.) So when you hit the third jackpot this week? Time to cash out. Simple as that.

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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