“I will keep where there is wit stirring”
Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida (II.i.120)
Venus goes into Pisces this week.
Aries: One my Aries friends was lamenting a recent change in her romantic life. It wasn’t exactly a change for the better, either. “So he bought a motorcycle, shaved his head, got a tattoo. Said he was going to find himself.” Sounds familiar? I don’t find any of those actions particularly macho, but then, that could just be me. In fact, I was wondering if those actions didn’t really just conform to some preset standard. In any case, machismo is probably overrated, and that really applies to Aries at this very moment. In fact, if the male in question had asked, I would’ve suggested something a little different. And a better tattoo artist — that Libra lad in San Marcos comes to mind. So the Aries girl was facing the fact that she’d been replaced by a “find myself” situation. No Aries, male or female, likes to be replaced, but when that happens, this week, pick up the pieces and move on down the road. Some battles aren’t worth fighting and this one you can’t win. Maybe the problem isn’t a tattoo, a shaved head, and a motorcycle, but whatever it is, don’t argue. Won’t do any good. Just remember that the planets will align for Aries shortly.
Taurus: Every time I would burn a “road” CD, I’d, as much by tastes as force of habit, include Robert Earl Keen’s version of a Terry Allen song, “Amarillo Highway.” REK’s version twangs and rocks right along. When I finally got around to finding the original, as performed by the song’s author, I discovered that they were two, almost completely different, songs. To say that the more popular version, REK’s, is an interpretation, would be an understatement. Different beat, different instrumentation, different delivery. Almost a different song, except that the words are the same. Mostly. Both songs mention certain brands of beer, and I’m sure that the brands mentioned are now influenced by sponsors and marketing. For me, discovering the roots was a voyage of exploration. Listening to the soft, soulful version was different, a step back in time. We’re back to the whole “roots” thing, now, as well. Trip back in time, journey back, look a little bit closer at where you’ve been. Stop for a moment. My great breakthrough came when I found a re-issued CD by singer/songwriter whose name I recognized, while I was digging through the close-out-used-el cheapo CD bin at a record store. The exploration was made even better when I slapped that CD in the player and gave it a listen. I’m all for exploring.
Gemini: One of my Gemini DJ buddies was over the other evening. He had a stack of CD’s for me, mostly material that can best be described as “metal.” Free stuff that radio station, give away, the little “promotional item, not for sale” sticker prominent. Some of the artwork was rather evocative of 30 year-old horror films. The problem, as I thought about it, had nothing to do with the proffered music. I had a local Honky-tonk hero on the player at the moment. Gentle, lyrical strains, twang, steel guitar, stand-up bass, completely different music. I offered to change out the tune, but that DJ? Radio personality? He didn’t care. He’s a Gemini. He named album and artist, commented on the performer’s stage banter, and we settled in to look at an astrology chart. While I was worried, look at the stack of “metal” CD’s he brought as partial payment, or a gift, that my country music would offend him, I was mistaken. With what’s happening — planet-wise — the broadest of Gemini tastes are required. Doesn’t bother that typical Gemini, but it does worry some of the rest of us. Be your usual, expansive, accommodating self.
Cancer: I figured that a laundry service where I would carry my dirty and soiled linens out to let someone else do the deed would save me time. Only, that’s not the way it worked out. By the time I got all my dirty clothes to the laundry place, paid, then remembered to pick them up two days later, I’d used up the better part of an hour. Maybe more. This is a problem. By the time I’d wandered off to the laundry place, paid lots of good money to have some else wash and fold my t-shirts, I could’ve done it all myself, in less time. Mars is moving into a position that’s going to be opposite from you. Saturn’s in your sign. You can weigh the options, but sometimes, it’s just easier to do it yourself. This is one of those periods when no one is better suited, able to handle the task faster, than yourself. Speed is part of the question, but so is time. Plus, at the Laundromat here in the trailer park? A handful of quarters out of the spare change jar costs a lot less than paying someone else to do the job.
Leo: I ran into a favorite barista the other day, a Leo barista. Her buddy at work was explaining that the Leo had arrived in a foul mood, and as such, everyone around that Leo was now in a foul mood. I made nice comment, threatened to tell a joke, and commented on how the new style of Leo mane was looking rather fetching. She growled at me, then made on of the best triple cappuccino (wet) that I’ve had in a while. I noted that, glad that she didn’t add an extra bitterness to the brew. When I popped back around, to meet a client, the Leo was a bit more cheerful. I’m Sagittarius. If that coffee hadn’t been that good, I’d said so. But it was. And that was a turning point in the Leo day. It can something as simple as that. Or, it can more complicated, but I’m thinking that a simple — and honest — compliment can serve to change your mood. Did I mention that I like that new thing your doing with your hair? Looks great. The moon is having a go at your moods, and they will be all over the place. At the very least, try and be nice to those of us who are nice to you. Those Leos? They really are the best at whatever they do, even if it’s a job like making me coffee.
Virgo: I got a call the other day, took me by surprise, one of my neighbors, a Virgo, “Kramer, I’m moving — I’m buying a condo. You’ll like it; you’ve got to see it.” When I got around to returning the voice mail, seeing as how it was a game of voice mail tag, I pretended to be sobbing, rent asunder with anguish, parting sorrow that’s much worse than death, like, I was in tears. At least, that’s what I hoped it sounded like. Not sure if it worked. Didn’t here back immediately. I think my “Virgo abducted by Space Aliens from a trailer park in South Austin” worked better. Yes, we probably have space aliens living in a trailer park in South Austin, but let’s just skip that part. So what it the participle dangles? So the Virgo world is changing and shifting, and some would say, for the better. It’s not like I see this one Virgo lass that often, maybe once or twice a year she hits me up for a reading, and one time she watched me fish — for about three minutes before she got bored, and her boyfriend called. I’ll miss running into her while doing laundry on some summer’s eve, but it’s not like seeing person once every six months is going to kill me. The feigned anguish I summoned up? All for show. A little guilt trip. Didn’t work. Can’t fool a Virgo. So what this adds up to? A chance to move, a chance to grow, a chance to invest, an opportunity. When one of those lands in your Virgo lap? Don’t listen to the distraught astrologer, do what’s right. You can thank me later.
Libra: It’s really a function of Mars, more than anything else, plus the insipid feeling you get when the Sun is in Pisces, like it is. Here in the Libra camp? I was watching, the other evening, as a single rower was making his way along the river, after dark. The lake (and/or river, depends on conditions) is frequently used for those long, thin boats, singly, or with teams of up to a dozen rowers, churning their way up and down the waterway. This was a single, after dark rower. On the back of his neck, and I was thinking about the Libra grouping and the planets, there was a flashing red light. The only boats are usually rowing coaches, hollering through bullhorns, and the lake’s limit on motor vehicles makes it an ideal spot for a rowing excursion. At night, even. But as I watched as that boat went by, silently blinking and make good time going with the flow, but against the wind, I was wondering, imagining, what it would be like to have a blinking red light on the back of my neck. That would drive me crazy. I don’t know that it’s required, and there didn’t seem to be a great deal of nautical traffic, so it might just have been safety light for the rower himself. Herself. Whatever self. But a little flashing safety light might not be a bad idea, too, you know? Let folks know that you’re coming along, your good, Libra self, and some days (nights, even), it’s best to at least let us know where you are.
Scorpio: I was wandering aimlessly downtown, about three week’s back. In reality, not a place me or Scorpio want to be, I was headed directly to the post office and from there, to meet a client. But I looked like I was wandering aimlessly. Corner of 6th & Guadalupe, to be precise. As I was crossing the street, a guy honks, and waves. After I get across, I lean into the passenger side window and we exchange pleasantries, him being a Scorpio and all, I wanted to make sure I was out of his way when the light changed. After we exchanged greetings, I realized what I should’ve done was whip out a dirty cloth, spit on it, and start washing his windshield. That would’ve made for an interesting exchange. I could hold out for a tip, better yet, a couple of bucks for the postage due on the package I was mailing. But I thought about that trick a little late. This was before the last cold snap, and I could’ve just pulled my shirt off, but I’m not sure that the humor would carry across. Worthy of try? In hindsight, sure, it was a great idea. Glad I didn’t do it? That, too. Your Scorpio self will probably not run into a friend while you’re crossing the street, but you will hit on a great idea, like I did, and like me, your idea pops into your Scorpio brain a little too late.
Sagittarius: It’s an old observation, and it’s less true these days, which, in turn just makes more true. Austin is for people who are too weird to live in Texas but too Texan to live outside of Texas. I fit right in. I’m normal. Instead of looking for some other place to be, try being right where you’re at, my fine Sagittarius friend. We all get a running start at the week, and then, we all seem to run right of “go.” I was going to tackle this huge “honey dew” list I’d made up for myself, and I had the best of intentions of getting everything accomplished. But the weather cleared up a bit, and I was barefoot, at the river’s edge casually dangling a worm in the water. All right, so the fish didn’t bite, didn’t even nibble, but I was obviously doing what I wanted to do — instead of looking at hat list of items. But I just couldn’t be bothered. I’m sure that you know the feeling. But part of this is being comfortable with what I do, and how “the spirit” moves me. Some days, when we get a little dose of spring-like weather, all I can think about is seeing if those fish are biting. Nibbling, at the very least. Just some kind of fun. That list of items I really wanted to attend to? I’m less sure about that “critical importance,” you know, is it really something that I must do, like right now?
Capricorn: I was fishing off the dock here, just along the banks of the creek. No, it was the wrong moon phase to catch anything, I was just testing a new lure. Cute little bugger, too. Gold (golden color), nice heft to it, sinks in the river’s water fast enough to do some deep-diving, which is what I wanted the lure for, in the first place. As I was getting used to it, its treble hook snagged a twig. More like a branch, something on the bottom. I pulled that lure back up with the big stick attached. Then, as I was unwinding the moss, trying to get the hook out of the twig/branch/root (some tree part), I managed to stab myself in the ball of my index finger with the hook. A little drop of blood appeared. Then a few minutes later, more blood. It’s not like the hook was rusty, but I’m hoping my tetanus shot is up-to-date. Then, as I wandered back inside to write down the notes about the lure’s performance, as soon as I started typing, that pinprick started to gush blood again. Blood, my precious bodily fluid, all over the keyboard. Looked like my keyboard was in a slasher film, or something. The deal is, if I was Capricorn, and if I’d read this scope, then I know that Mars is in the middle of Capricorn, and that Mars does things like pick up sticks on the bottom of the creek’s bed and then, while unwinding the lure, Mars stabs the little hook into the index finger. It was an innocent mistake on my part, but the results just compounded in no time. Mars, he’s like that. Blood on the keyboard. Looks bad. Doesn’t hurt, it’s just inconvenient. Now, if I was a Capricorn, I’d been more careful with that hook in the first place.
Aquarius: I was chatting up a fellow fisher person, just the other day. We compared notes about certain baits, and what wasn’t really working in the lakes these days. Cold weather, winter, fishing is slow, at best. I described a set-up that I’ve started throwing, a small spinner lure, looks like a minnow, and then about 18 inches of leader, and a larger lure, like Rattle Trap. “Oh yeah, throwing a junkyard?” I was curious because I thought I was working with something that was an original idea. Or close to an original idea. 1) My method never netted any fish and 2) since the rig has a name, it’s not that original. However, the idea of doubling up an effort? While that didn’t work for me, it would probably work rather well for Aquarius. Double efforts, maybe a junkyard setup. I guess that’s what it’s referred to as, maybe something like that would work for Aquarius fishing. Birthdays are over; the calm has returned. In order to get what you really want, consider doubling up on your offering. Twice the number of lures yet only one fishing pole. Or whatever it is that you’re trying to land.
Pisces: A local restaurant offers a special dish, it’s called a “Paris, Texas platter.” It’s breakfast dish as would befit that restaurant, and what’s on the “Paris Texas platter”? French Toast and Migas. What I found even more amusing, delving into a little bit of culinary trivia, “French” toast is really rather American and “Migas” seem to be a local dish, again, certainly not from its purported place of origin. There are a number of planets in Pisces at this moment, some big, some small, some important, some not quite that important, all floating along in Pisces. You’re looking a menu item, like I was, and it’s host of incongruities. A Mexican dish not from Mexico. French food not from France. The name of little town in Texas. All a bunch of weird, seemingly unrelated material. No big deal. But there’s a thread that ties all of this together, although, it won’t be sewn up tight, see: The planets in Pisces all touch Uranus and that sets of an unstable chain of events that come cascading forward. Your sweet, Pisces self is just sitting there, minding your own business, and you notice something that doesn’t add up. Like menu items and the content of the items on the menu. This is going to be lost on non-Pisces folks, but the good Pisces, when this occurs, make note of the incongruity. Might not be a menu item, might be a little closer to home — or work. File that data away. Until Mr. Mercury slides out of Pisces, it might not be the best time to announce what you’ve discovered.
