“It is certain that when he makes water,
his urine is congealed ice.”
- Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure (III.ii.106)
Aries: Spurred by an actor’s comment, I was wondering what would happen if Shakespeare’s Richard III was shopped in Hollywood these days? I’m talking about the Tragedy of Richard the Third, you know, the play all about the rise and fall of a heinous and diabolical king? From one producer and studio to another, around and around the script would get mangled, I’m sure, “Hey, we like, it’s good stuff, but you’ve got to lose the baby-killing.” Or, “Hunchback, withered arm? That won’t work on screen, baby.” Perhaps the weirdest would be, “No more tragedies, we’re looking to turn this one into a comedy, you know, romantic comedy?” That whole, “My kingdom for horse” speech, near the end? Or how would it be if Richard didn’t die, he got the Kingdom, the horse and the girlfriend to be his queen, all at the end? In other words, the whole idea, concept, historical perspective and basically, the whole damn play would be twisted into something unknowable. What’s nice about Shakespeare’s canon of work? Pretty much engraved in stone. 36 (or 37) plays, words aren’t going to be changed around too much. It’s easy enough to lift plot, characters, settings or other spurious scenery from the body of the work, but there’s not much chance that Hollywood — or any other entity — is going to gallop in and change the words. Now, let’s look at your planets: it’s like shopping that script around the usual sources, agents, producers and studios. Venus and the Sun in Aries, that’s a good idea. Mercury backwards? Jupiter opposite your sign in Libra with Jupiter also backwards? That’s the wall, that’s the part where they say, “Sure, but we see this as a romantic comedy!” Some folks you encounter just don’t get it.
Taurus: Before bass spawn, around the time I’m writing this scope for Taurus, the feeding cycle is a little odd. I can usually hunt down the fish, spooling up near flats, coming in from creek bottoms, around the edge of the spawning grounds. I’d put a special slugger worm on the end of a hook, then I’d add about three feet of light line, and then I’d tie that whole mess to a heavily weighted float, called a “launcher.” What happens: I toss the launcher out there, and the slugger slowly sinks towards the fish. I found, under the windy conditions in March, the waves add the right amount of jiggle to the weighted float. Slugger then looks like a little bait-fish. Perfect presentation. Or so I thought. Never did get the set up to work quite right. I kept toying with different lengths of leader, letting that slugger sink to the bottom, I tried jigging him a little, I varied the weight and that float, but none of this seemed to work quite right. I had to face a simple fact: the fish didn’t like me at that time. Or my bait. Or, the fishes just weren’t feeding. As good an excuse as any, right? All that preparation, all that experimentation, and no luck. Doesn’t matter how carefully you map out what direction you want your Taurus bait to go, I’m sure you’re going to run into a similar situation. So there I was, just like you, at the edge of the lake, muttering under my breath, “Damn fish, how do they know that Mercury is retrograde?”
Gemini: A Gemini buddy stopped by the other morning, on his way in to the office (where he works). He brought some breakfast tacos by. “At least I brought the beer!” was his comment. There was no beer involved. But it sounded good. Made me think about that old rule, “Breakfast, it’s not just for beer anymore.” Drinking alcoholic beverages before noon is not an acceptable solution to life’s little problems. But joking about it? A little humor when Mercury is backwards sure helps. Plus, the thought about one Gemini Bubba friend, sitting in a cubicle with a cooler full of Lone Star, or, for a better image, a bottle of some fine Kentucky bourbon, and a shot glass, on his desk. Now, a manager comes by, a supervisor sees this bottle, or the cooler, and what happens? “Mind if I have a quick snort?” Or, it could be, “Mind if I grab a bottle of beer? I’ve got a managers’ meeting coming up….” With Mr. Mercury backwards It’s actually an engaging idea. And that supervisor who wants to join in? Remember, it’s not just backwards for your Gemini self, it’s for all of us — we feel it too. So if you are bringing alcohol to the work place, to help ease the confusion? Make sure you bring enough to share.
Cancer: I was pricing a trip to the Texas Gulf coast. The term “Redneck Riviera” officially belongs to the Florida panhandle/Flori-bama area of the Gulf Coast. I tend to regard our little portion of the Gulf Coast, though, as a more true Redneck Riviera. I’m not often joined in the nomenclature, though. So last December, remember when Mercury was backwards then? That’s when I came up with this great idea for a weekend of sun, frolic in the surf, charter a boat and take a fishing cruise, hire a guide and spend a morning poking around the inland salt flats, all of that seemed like a good idea — at the time. I started looking at prices. The prices jumped, starting the first of the March. I don’t mean that the costs edged up a little, I’m talking about a large margin, like doubling or tripling. That’s a little too steep for my tastes. Glad I did a little more research before I took off with no planning. Doesn’t look like I’m going anywhere too soon. That’s the point. Look ahead. If I’d booked way back when, I could’ve had a cheap deal. But I didn’t. I was going to wait for a last minute special, only, that special isn’t materializing. It’s a tourist/spring break destination, and I thought, on the tail-end of the break, I could pick up something cheap. No deals. So I’ll be Austin, or someplace. If your Cancer self didn’t make plans when Mercury was backwards, then this one isn’t a time to make plans either. Doesn’t mean you can’t go the hotel’s website and look at all the pretty picture.
Leo: A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…. I wrote some advertising copy, plus handled the layout and processed a pile of forms for a financial concern. I mean, this was a long time ago. I was in college at the time, and it was some part-time, much needed income. Not that I don’t need to income, now, either, but that was then. Deal is, I was listening to sales pitch, the other afternoon, and the sales associate started in on the details that I was already familiar with. I stopped him, then recited the particulars back to him. I was surprised that I still remembered all the details. “Hey, you know this stuff already!” Yes, yes I do. Mercury, in apparent retrograde motion, in Aries, and Mars (associated with Aries), are double-teaming your Leo self. Someone, I’m not saying a sales person, but someone will start in on a pitch. In my case, it was okay for me to interrupt. In your case? Might let them finish even though you’re pretty sure you’ve heard all the details before.
Virgo: One of my female friends is a consummate shopper. We were in a bookstore, and there was a new release I’d wanted. Fresh, interesting material from an author I truly enjoy. Not really believable characters, but I’m willing to go along for the ride, because, you know, you could just see these events happening. What offended my female friend was the fact that I was paying the retail cover price for the novel. Big, thick, hardback novel. With tax? Close to $30. There’s the half-price, used books bookstore here. They might have it in stock by now. Thee are the super-chain discount warehouse stores, where that book might — or might not — be on their aisles by now, at a greatly reduced prices. Then there are the chain of national bookstores with a bewildering range of discounts, based some arcane mathematical formula us mere mortals don’t understand. “I saw it online for cheap,” and with shipping? Costs more. Or, while we were standing in a bookstore, there it was, the book I wanted, and I paid the regular retail price. My money went to the author, to the independent bookstore, and frankly, I didn’t care. It was an impulse buy. I was only trying to support the author. It’s all a matter of what’s in front of you, at the moment. If you stop and consider all the details of the shopping excursion, sure, I could’ve run all over town — or ordered online — but the time, energy, and effort? Sometimes, it’s just easier to pony up the full, retail price and not worry about details.
Libra: I was shopping online for a motel for an out-of-town event. I clicked through to one site, found a relative inexpensive place then I started to scan the price structure. Corporate rate? $59.95 per night. Government rate? $59.95 per night. Family rate? $59.95 per night. Starting to get a picture here? Didn’t matter what I suggested, like the my favorite refrain, “special, friend-of-the family, I-knew-you-way-back-when, we-went-to-different-schools rate?” So I called them up and booked a room for the night. I liked the “no sliding scale” fee structure. Everyone was equal. Clever bit of marketing, if you ask me. No one did, but they did earn my business. That’s called shopping. Plus, for me, it was a business trip. Look around for some discounts. Shop the prices. But also consider that place that just advertises one low rate for everyone. They won my business by being fair and even-handed, in my eyes. Use your pretty Libra eyes to found the fair and even-handed deals, Mercury or not.
Scorpio: Last week I made my first of several references to Mars and his present location in Aquarius. Definitely adds a special flavor to the days? I was raised on McIlhenny’s Tabasco brand hot sauce. Love the stuff, but over the years, it’s gotten a little milder. So I was in a restaurant, in a little town, not too far south of Austin, and I ordered up Chicken Fried Steak. Cream gravy. Standard litmus test for any place. If the CFS is good, then it’s a winner. I tasted the gravy, not bad, but it needed something besides a little black pepper. So I picked up the off-brand Tabasco-looking bottle and upended it on my gravy. What I normally do, anyway. I shoveled a mouthful of my mix in, and whew, I’d incorrectly gauged the flame content of that hot sauce. It wasn’t some watered-down, cheap blend of cayenne and chili peppers with a little vinegar. Nope, that was some serious hot sauce. My eyes watered. I gulped ice tea. My traveling companion giggled. I stirred the gravy on the steak around some and spread that hot sauce out. It was an entirely palatable meal. Plus the fried okra was remarkably fresh, quite tasty. I looked at the brand of hot sauce, as an after thought. It wasn’t an off-brand, it was Mexican label. You can save yourself a lot of trouble, either hot metaphorically, or hot to the taste buds, by reading the label and testing first. For the record? Truck stop, south of San Antonio. Good stuff, both the Chicken Fried and the hot sauce.
Sagittarius: I got a call the other night, a buddy of mine wanted to stop by and shoot the breeze, “Hey, I’m stopping by Sandy’s, you want anything?” Sure, cheeseburger, fries, medium drink — the usual Thursday/Saturday special. It was one of those nights, and I’m thinking it was probably a Thursday night. He entered, started telling a story about some other friend, and the drinking story that followed ended up with, “So later that night, I was trying to talk the manager of the strip club out of calling the police….” The deal was, the story, the tale, the fable? It was all made up. Pure fiction. Never happened. He was just trying to come up with a phrase, that, over the burgers on the coffee table, would impress me, shock me, or, at the very least, cause my eyebrows to wiggle. I know this one buddy, and I know that most of his tales of such ilk are pure fabrications from a fervid, fevered mind. I’m sometimes a little too jaded to be a really good Sagittarius, but these days, and after hearing one too many tales from this lad, I’m pretty sure he can’t come up with anything I haven’t already seen or heard. I nodded and kept munching. You’re going to hear a story, something of a similar vein, and when you get to the part about, “and then the officers showed up, and I asked, ‘what’s wrong? My hunting license is up-to-date?’ and they got carried away talking about ‘petting zoo’ and traumatized children, man, I’ve got to stay away from tequila — I didn’t like riding in the squad car’s trunk.” Some stories you hear are pure fiction.
Capricorn: My date’s kid joined us as we were watching a video version of Hamlet. Then the kid’s date showed up, “Just tell me,” she asked, “like, you know, is that ghost real?” Which meant, I had to pose that usual question about the King’s Ghost, real or not, was the ghost a good ghost or bad ghost? Heaven or Hell? That’s why Hamlet has to get some kind of corroborating evidence, you know, to make sure that what the ghost said was true. Right? All part of the play. Like Hamlet, like the plot to that one tragedy, your Capricorn self would do well to arrange a test of some kind to verify the accuracy of what’s being said. You want to believe what you’re told. You want to believe what’s being whispered in your Capricorn ear, but there’s a hesitancy you’ve got. You’d like to go right ahead and usurp the person who’s run off and made a mess of the situation, but then, you’re not really sure, like that ghost, is it for real? Or is it trying to lead you astray? Arrange to test the data before you commit to action. There’s absolutely no need to end up like the end of that one play, all the good guys, and some of the bad guys? All dead on stage.
Aquarius: There’s nothing quite like a little three-way action to really spark the heart — or other parts of the anatomy? Right. I’d wandered into a local coffee shop with just the cutest little barista, and she glanced up from the magazine she was reading, asked what I wanted, and then she — and another employee — another cute barista — joined in making up a double shot of espresso plus a dollop of foamed milk. One made the espresso while the other foamed the milk then poured that tiny bit on top. Double-teamed? Sure, works for me. Maybe we got off on a wrong start here, and your Aquarius self interpreted something into the first sentence that just wasn’t there. It Mars, see, and he’s heating up the Aquarius lifestyle, plus Mercury is firmly confusing everything. Be extra careful about connotation and denotation with words.
Pisces: There’s a myth associated truck sizes and manhood. At least, I’m assuming it’s a myth, not that kind of thing I’m going to check. I was thinking about because I finally put a face with a vehicle, a Pisces’s face with his vehicle. The guy’s a neighbor here, and he’s got deep voice, usually wears jeans and work boots, pretty much a normal wouldn’t-trip-my-radar kind of a guy. Since he lives in the same trailer park, yes, I’ve asked, and yes, he’s a Pisces. Never thought much about it. Until, like, just the other day, I noticed him driving in his truck. It’s a monster truck. No, I don’t mean Monster Truck like that, only, well, yes it is like that. Mud tires that are close to five feet tall, a little extra set of steps on the bottom of the cab, a motor that really does make the most satisfying noises, and enough headlights across the roll bar (and tucked under the brush guard) to light a landing strip for a large, commercial airliner. Wouldn’t know about any of the other details about the lad’s private life, never inquired. I’m conversational but I am disinclined to pry where I’m not wanted. It might not be about tire sizes and manhood, but there’s some bit of urban myth that your Pisces self has always subscribed to. Looking at the way things are stacking up? Don’t always assume that some myth is hardcore fact. But I wouldn’t know about this one.
