“Her only fault, and that is fault enough,
Is that she is intolerable curst.”
Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew (I.ii.87-8)
I don’t understand why Cupid was chosen to represent Valentine’s Day. When I think about romance, the last thing on my mind is a short, chubby toddler coming at me with a weapon.
Aries: “Out on the road today I saw Black Flag sticker on a Cadillac. A little voice inside my head said don’t look back you can never look back.” I’d burned that song, after actually buying the CD itself, onto my portable music player. I didn’t like much of the album, but that one lyric just tickled my funny bone, and it seemed to have deep, poetic meaning. It builds on older music, which then builds on even earlier music, which can cover, almost 50 years, if not more, at this point. It’s all about your roots and how your Aries self chooses to access the roots. Plus there’s a reminder in that one song, too. “Don’t look back, you can never look back.” It’s okay to look back, but you’ve got to keep that momentary reverie to just that, momentary. It never hurts to know where you’ve been in the life of Aries, but you’ve got some strange stuff coming up, and you’re supposed to be building towards a new future. Take any of the artists who sing that song, and follow the advice, though, especially now, “Don’t look back, you can never look back.” (Jupiter does this to us.) Looking back for too long turns into a trap. Why I suggested those lyrics in the first place.
Taurus: After being so single for so many years, I’m just not up to speed on what to do with this whole Valentine’s Day event. Or non-event, as the case usually is in my world. The two big questions in the Taurus world revolve around those time-worn topics of finance and romance. Let’s skip the romance. Not going to do me any good, skipping romance at this time of the season, but let’s just move ahead with that one, little troubling “work” issue. One of my buddies got in trouble for spending an exorbitant amount of personal time on the computer at work — taking care of personal business. What was he doing? Sending out those tacky online Valentine’s cards. Click on it and it plays a short tune, maybe some quick flash animation, or even a little old-style html coding. Not really a big deal, but it sure had him hooked. For a good six hours. If I spent six hours doing anything, I’d bore rather quickly. The only person who wasn’t bored was his system administrator who discovered the time-waster. It’s a function the Moon (and a few planets), but more time working, less time fooling around. Makes so you can afford a decent Valentine’s Trip — belated — and that’s a lot more fun. Last longer, too.
Gemini: “Watch it, bubba, or I’ll broker a transfer.” Bubba looked at me like I was crazy. Which I might be but that’s not part of this scene. “‘Broker a transfer’ you know, bust a move?” Bubba was tying a lure onto a piece of leader line, then he was going to attach that to a heavier bait. Old (Gemini) trick, two baits, one line. I had some fairly contemporary music playing, and I was threatening to dance. Some actions are just rather frightening by their very nature. Me. Middle-aged white-guy. Trying to act like a young person with far more rhythm, style and grace than I ever had. Besides, I know this one lad, and the mere threat of me attempting to sway my hips scares the heck out of him. It’s not something either one of use wants to see. But, there’s always the threat. The part that caused the most consternation and confusion? “Broker a transfer.” I was trying to translate a term into what I thought was more fashionable and correct language. Didn’t work. The threat of physical action did work. The Gemini look said it all: “Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.” So one of your non-Gemini friends is coming up with another great idea? Stick to what you were working on, namely typing that leader and baits together. Two baits, one fishing line. Works just fine. Our ideas? Non-Gemini ideas? Those are probably scary, like me “brokering a transfer.”
Cancer: “Well, he’s a friend of them long-haired, hippy-type, pinko fags,/I betcha he’s even got a Commie flag,/Tacked up on the wall inside o’ his garage./He’s a snake in the grass, I tell ya guys,/He may look dumb, but that’s just a disguise,/He’s a mastermind in the ways of espionage.” The line came up on a mixed CD I was toying with while Bubba (see Gemini above) was hanging out the other evening. He remarked as how he had to remember that line, especially the first refrain as he was threatening to use that set of lyrics whenever he had a chance, particularly in my presence. What’s amusing to me, is that the song is actually older than that young bubba. I’m not sure he gets the “historicity” about the situation, or, for that matter, the lyrics he was trying to imitate. My buddy, young bubba, liked the first line in the refrain. I liked the last part. For Cancer? For this week? I’m not sure, but either the opening lick or the closing lick, one of those two, one of them is going to be quoted by your Cancer self. Set your tongue firmly in cheek, “He may look dumb, but that’s just a disguise….” Careful with underestimating some folks. Never can tell.
Leo: I was toying with mixing music. I was looking at the Leo chart. I was playing with a digital studio and I started to mess around with good loops for the Leo. Bass line. Strong bass line. Snappy rhythm. Then I added some drum kit. I clipped out the snare and the top hat, so it was just thud music. Thump-thump. Perfect for Leo for the week. It’s not of much a loop, and I don’t have a career as a DJ or sound technician. But the little loops I created? It’s perfect for getting Leo motivated, and keeping you on track. Tracks. Just bass and drum, nothing else. Eschew that high-pitched whine, the high-end notes. That’s not what you’re looking for. That type of sound is annoying to your Royal Leo self. Stick a basic rhythm, just bass and drums. You’ll get a lot more accomplished that way. Happy Valentine’s Day, too. Thump. Thump-thump. No high notes. Don’t need the aural irritation.
Virgo: I was off to go meet a client. Maybe have some supper, I’m not too sure of what my destination was other than I was leaving Shady Acres in the evening’s twilight. I noticed something kind of strange. Maybe not that weird, but certainly different. In one Virgo’s trailer, there was a little Xmas tree, all lit up. It’s February. What is an Xmas tree doing still it up, and of all places, in a Virgo’s trailer? It wasn’t large tree, and I’m sure I missed it during the celebrations, but there it was, plain as day, shining brightly in the night. Looked nice, pristine, a tiny conifer decked out with a thin shard of tinsel and regular lights. It was in that tiny window over the kitchen sink, I’m guessing, and if I’m not wrong, then that Xmas tree and its lights would make a for a very romantic setting for the living room, such as it is. With trailer (minimalist) home décor, there are certain standards, and this being in a trailer park in South Austin, then there are certain standards that go beyond whatever else is considered normal. Maybe you don’t live here, and maybe you don’t have an Xmas tree still up, in all its pristine glory. Doesn’t much matter. There’s some item of home décor that clearly flies in the face of acceptable use policies, and yet, for the Virgo section of the heavens, this sort of weird stuff just works. Romantic lighting in a Virgo home, provided by Xmas lights. Whatever works? Works.
Libra: “Oops, my bad.” I made that comment, trying valiantly to imitate one of my more youthful acquaintances with my speech pattern. But I was talking to someone a little older, a little more mature, and she found that term, “My bad,” to be highly disconcerting. “It doesn’t make any sense.” It was a form of verbal shorthand, an innocent way to excuse a mistake. At this point, it’s also a cliché, but that doesn’t matter now. There are certain expressions that middle-aged white-guys just shouldn’t use. It’s an expression that’s just age/culture inappropriate. In your Libra mind, you’re going to pull in an expression that’s borrowed from the vernacular of a group that your Libra self wouldn’t normally be associated with. It has to do with silly Jupiter and all that fun stuff happening over yonder in Aquarius. So you’re reaching a little too far, a little high, or in my example, a little too “out there.” At some point, in the next couple of days, you’re going to borrow an expression from some other party’s vernacular, and it your word choice won’t fit. “Oops, my bad.”
Scorpio: I was meandering through the Shady Acres compound, and I had fishing pole under one arm and my mail in hand. The Scorpio trailer’s door was open, and that young Scorpio lass had some rather strident music playing. As I crunched along on the gravel, she poked her head out the door, “Hey Kramer. What’s up.” Notice that the statements, although looking like questions, really came across as statements rather than inquiry. I countered with socially acceptable questions about her current activity, and she was fine with that. She was cleaning out the place, and listening to some music, and chatting with her astrologer (me), and all the rest of that type of conversation. “You told me about the new moon in Aquarius, and I was trying to make the most of that,” she was saying, setting a broom aside to push a few loose strands of hair out of her face. Which then begat a long discussion about the way my fishing pole’s line was flapping in the breeze — I’d most recently left a lure on a stump in the river — which then lead to a discussion of the merits of certain classical artists — Sex Pistols and that era — which then lead to discussion about her boyfriend — and what seemed like hours later, she realized she had a shift at work to cover, so she was off towards that. Never did get the trailer cleaned out, not like the plan. Lots of distractions in Scorpio, and be careful about long-winded astrologers who find you rather fetching, that can lead you astray when you really had your Scorpio heart set on housecleaning.
Sagittarius: “I once took the high road, and it took me straight to hell” (Hank III lyrics, and yes, Hank III is a Sagittarius, song’s title is Cecil Brown on the Lovesick, Broke and Driftin’ album — Sagittarius to Sagittarius, it’s recommended.) Sure, invoking a sad song to start out what might be a good weekend, leading to a good week next week is a little weird, but follow my cue on this one, hum a few bars, we’ll get around to what’s going on. It’s just a stellar lunar phase, a launch time for some things. Launch and some things are terms that apply to new projects, but, unfortunately, Mr. Jupiter, our nominal ruler, is currently backwards, just starting a slow slide downhill. I’m sticking to the high road, but I’m lowering my expectations on an immediate rewards. That makes it lot easier on the Sagittarius psyche. It might be the high road this week, but remember what that one song suggests….
Capricorn: Panning for gold was, at one time, a great and illustrious way to get rich quick. At least, in theory, panning for gold was the ticket to fabulous wealth in a short period of time. But unless you’ve ever stood knee-deep in a freezing mountain stream, carefully sluicing through grains of sand, looking for the heavy particles that might — or might not — make you rich, then you can’t understand that those mountain streams are cold. It takes hours of work to produce a few paltry grains of worthwhile ore, and even then, to be honest, I don’t know how anyone, other than a tourist industry, ever made any kind of reasonable income this way. Panning for gold requires a deft hand, whirling the water around in the pan, letting the heavier material sink while the lighter silica and aggregates are washed away. Great idea, but unless you’re selling pans and ornaments made from faux-gold nuggets, I’m not sure that you’re going to get rich this way. The patient toil, the deft hand? Mr. Mars is firmly in your sign, and, while the idea of a cool mountain stream is inviting, I’m not sure you’re going to sit still long enough to make a dollar this way. With Mars? Forget the gentle sluicing, consider using a shovel to move the dirt around.
Aquarius: I always did love The Taming of the Shrew. I’ve seen a half-dozen different versions, but one of the best was a fairly strict Elizabethan version, period piece, all the extra-heavy duty costumes, language and so forth, except that it was performed by an all female acting crew. Pretty much fun. Fun and games with, at least some critics would say, a fairly sexist script. What was richly rewarding for me, as an uniformed spectator, was the way the lead male character hammed it up. It was doubly comic when he (she) would make the crotch grabbing gestures and the codpiece jokes. Then, of course, the gender-bending of the original performance, where boys played girls, and then this modern reenactment where girls played boy or girls played boys playing girls, and then it all gets confusing. Instead of having any preconceived notions, I was along for a romp, a laugh, and good time. I was merrily entertained. The part that stuck with me, though, was that tall, Amazon-warrior-goddess and the way she really toyed with certain — I thought — male gestures. Which just goes to show, now that there’s all these little planets in Aquarius, with birthdays and all that, despite the way things look, there’s always time to make merry, even if all the roles seem reversed. It’s good fun if you let go of the preconceived notions.
Pisces: Some of my best friends are fish. Not Pisces, but real fish. There’s a school of black bass who live in Barton Creek in the winter time, and slide on out into the lake itself in the summer. Much like human counterparts, these fish head to the beach for spawning. Or some similar activity. I was thinking about this, and reaching for some metaphor here, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to stretch a Pisces brain around the idea. But it was worth a try. As I was looking at your Pisces chart, I kept coming back to the idea of “spring break.” It starts at the very tail end of February and stretches until April. Covers a lot of ground. But now, more so than any other time, is a good time to start thinking about where you’re going to head out for some kind of a spring break. Very few of us have that “college student” lifestyle, but the concept of a spring vacation is worthy of an investment. Look into where you can go, preferably by water, like a beach, a creek, a lake, anything. You need a break of some sort, and now is the time to start planning. Or do a little Pisces dreaming, anyway. I came up behind a Pisces surfing the net, “What are you looking for?” “Oh, just looking at vacation package to Padre Island, no big deal, just dreaming.” Perfect.
