For the Week starting: 7.7.2005

“Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray
To have [you] suddenly convey’d from hence.”
Shakespeare’s Richard III [IV.iv.75-6] Did I mention it was summertime in Texas? The Cancer Sun is roasting right along. Saturn’s at 29 degrees of Cancer these days.

Aries: it was a little more than a month ago, I had a chance to observe “Lepomis megalotis” (Longear Sunfish). I wasn’t 100% sure about the brand of fish, I mean, I could recognize it as a perch, but what kind? The brilliant colorings of the fish, actually, there were two nests in right in front of the boat pad, lead me to believe they were the more highly ornate Longear Sunfish. Little fellers. The guys clear a nest and attract a female by swimming circles around her. Then the target female lays the eggs and gets chased off. In this mating dance, what with Mars in Aries, there’s a shot at some human behavior that seems to be reflected in Nature. Looking at the fish, I’m sure someone thought I was crazy — which I might be — but looking at the blue, gold, and in one feller, red tones, I couldn’t help but wonder about what part of this mating dance is going on with Aries. Mars is all about the dance, and then fiercely guarding something you’ve won. I’m not sure which part of the perch mating ritual, though, applies to you.

Taurus: A high-pressure weather system rolled through last month. When that happens, it drives the big bass out to deep waters — their summer home. Then the big boys pretty much stop feeding. Means no bait works. Nothing works. I thought about the expression, “Can’t buy a bite,” and I considered tying a dollar bill onto the end of a hook, just to see what would happen. Find out if that was really true, about not buying a bite. Life isn’t always about fishing, but Mars is like that “high-pressure system,” forcing the Taurus folks all out to deeper water. Down on the bottom, where it’s still cool. Or cooler, anyway. Not much is happening. Or to be more precise, you’re a lot like those fish I can’t catch, nothing seems to attract your attention. And like that high-pressure front? It’ll pass soon enough, just maybe, not this week.

Gemini: I’d awaken really early, one day last week, and I’d headed out to fish from the bank, just as an exercise, more than anything else. I was headed home, close to noon, and the sun was overhead, warming up a summer’s day to a decent “roast” condition. As I passed one apartment complex, I realized that they had a pool, and I had a client who lives there. I popped over the fence, fishing pole in hand while and stripped out of the non-waterproof gear, and plunged right in. When I came up for air, I was looking at the manager. “Hi Kramer,” she said, “cool to use the pool, but the fishing pole has me a little worried. Are you, like, trying baits in our pool?” I pointed to orange worm on the end of the pole, a floating “Rattler” series worm, about 6 inches long, bright neon orange, “I was just testing its rate of decent.” The problem being, all that chlorine and whatever else is in the pool? I seriously doubt if the fish like that flavor. Besides, a typical swimming pool isn’t really long enough for a good cast. Nice idea, though. So I doubt you’re stealing into an apartment complex to cool off in the summer’s heat. With a fishing pole in hand. But I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re showing up someplace, and the folks already there? They might worry a bit about what you’re up to. Make a plausible story. Fortunately, for a Gemini, that won’t be too difficult.

Cancer: Not only is a happy birthday time for a couple of Cancer folks I know, but it’s a happy birthday time for almost all of my excellent, much put out, troubled, downtrodden, and otherwise abused Cancer friend. Relief is coming, in the very near future. The very near future is what horoscopes are all about, too. Next couple of days are going to be okay, but a little rocky. Not bad rocky, just a little troublesome in that a lot of people are still buzzing from July 4th. Plus, that buzz might not be the best way for you to face what’s going on. Then, as the moon disappears, all of sudden like, there’s a change. Plus, there really is some long term relief headed your way. Big time. Hard core. Relief with a large R in the front of it. Deal is, there’s just one little, tiny, niggling, bothersome, ignored problem that you’ve put off dealing with. During this weekend, and on into next week, consider wrapping up, finishing up, or taking steps to bring about the closure that you want. Desire. Or even, just need.

Leo: Play while you can! That’s what summertime is all about, right? Right! I realize that Leo time is fast approaching, but Venus and Mercury are already warming up in your sign. Make some use of that good planetary energy. Have some fun. Play around. Take a short vacation. For all I’m concerned, take a long vacation. Enjoy yourself. Feel the summer’s sun (Summer in the Northern Hemisphere) on your loins. Run barefoot through the park. Drop a line in at a favorite fishing hole. Most of the fish have gone deep, so tie lead sinker to that bait. But most important, this is an unfettered license to play. Look: not everyone will be up to speed on the concept that it’s playtime in Leo. Not everyone will agree. There’s a boss, co-worker, employee, employer, one of those types who controls the purse strings? Yeah, one of those figures, and that person is less than pleased that you’re taking some time off. Too bad. So sad. I still think you need to escape while you can, and have yourself a little bit of guilty pleasure. Whatever that Leo guilty pleasure is, take some time and have some fun.

Virgo: That old Virgo “truth and beauty” machine just isn’t working as well as it could. I’m not saying that your taste is bad, no, I would never accuse any decent Virgo of that, it’s just that the way you’re making some of your decisions, especially as those decisions relate to aesthetics, that’s where the problem lies. Lays. See? I’m not sure which is intransitive and which is correct. One sounds better, one looks better. Not sure which word to use? A Grammar Cop will come along and explain it all, and you’re with me, the other word sounds better to our Virgo ears. Which doesn’t make it Virgo correct, though. Therein is the problem. Questions about matters of taste, matters of refined Virgo pleasure, matters of the heart? I’m not sure that you’re in a position to make the best judgment call on such matters. It’s the middle of a hot summer in Texas, and as such, maybe just putting off decisions, like what color paint for the bedroom, or what kind of tile for the kitchen floor? Maybe put of those decisions — or, better yet — hire a professional to make the decisions for you. My problem? My “trailer decorating professional” is a Virgo. Can’t trust her call on a design idea, not this week. Which doesn’t mean that the Virgo camp won’t come up with some good ideas, but I’m not sure about matters like color schemes. Might put that off until the weather cools off a little.

Libra: Before I could write the Libra look into the future, I had to make sure that I was properly adorned. It may be summertime in Texas, but that doesn’t mean I can’t just sit down in my shorts and hammer out a scope. Necklace with a ceremonial charm on it, the correct ring on the left hand, and a tasteful shirt, although, due to the summer’s heat, I don’t think I’ll button the shirt up. Hope you don’t mind. Setting the mood, even when I’m stripped down to summer speed is important. There are just certain accoutrements that are required. Whether it’s lucky charm, or a single piece of jewelry that sets you off like nothing else, there’s a small action, perhaps it’s an insignificant action to other signs, but for a Libra? That simple action, it’s very important. Mr. Lucky is making life absolutely grand for you. Let’s make something happen. AS long as Jupiter is spreading his benevolent ways throughout your sign, make sure — whatever action it is — that you do it. Whatever is proper, part of the Libra ritual? Do that.

Scorpio: I went to the Shady Acres postal center, which is nothing more than regular post boxes, numbered with slots for the corresponding trailer spaces. I sorted through the offers: junk mail, trash. Junk mail, trash. Junk mail from a sport goods store with a weekly fishing special? Hold onto that. Letter offering a deal on a car, hold onto so I can properly destroy the mail. More letters of similar nature. Then a hand addressed letter to “Kramer ‘El Magnifico’ Wetzel.” Inside, just a personal check for some service rendered over the phone, a while back. Actually, there was a little extra tacked onto the amount. That was nice. I shove the check back in the envelope and flipped through the rest of the mail. Bills, notices, spam. When I got back in the trailer, I opened and tore up most of the junk that had my name on it, and left it as a pile on the table. Same with the ads. Nothing I wanted was on sale, so I didn’t bother with anything else. Forgot about the check, tossed everything in the trash. The next day, I remembered that check, and I was stuck digging through my trash, hoping the envelope was there. It was. The check had some dust and fishing line around it, but otherwise, it was fine. Cashed just fine. No problems. A little lapse in memory is possible, due to the way Venus and Mercury put pressure on you. As long as you haven’t tossed wet coffee grounds on top of the trash, you’re okay.

Sagittarius: I was talking to a girlfriend on the phone, in the background, on my end, there was the gentle noise of small waves breaking on the shoreline. Then there was a whir, a plop, and this was followed by a cranking noise, as if someone was pulling line through a well-worn fishing reel. “Hey, you’re fishing,” she said. Well, not exactly. It’s more like “practicing my casting” because the fish aren’t even remotely interested in anything I’ve got. But I was certainly going through the motions, as it’s repetitive action that soothes my mind. Listening to someone else’s list of complaints — especially if it’s list about my shortcomings and failings as a decent human being (basically as a boyfriend), the gentle motion gives my hands something else to do, rather than imagine slamming the phone down, or, as it’s a portable phone, hurling it through the air, like that bait. Besides, I can recite the laundry list that particular girlfriend was going through, it’s not like I haven’t heard this before. Nor, for that matter was I really worried about any of it. As the Moon starts to grow in size, there’s an opportunity to rectify some previous injustice. But there’s a certain need, at the same time, for some contemplative, repetitive action in the Sagittarius slice of the sky.

Capricorn: I wandered down to the creek for a dip. Barton Creek, spring fed, cold water, hot summer’s day, no place like it in the world. Just about perfect. I needed to cool off after traversing a couple of miles on the trail, in the afternoon heat. When I got to a usual swimming hole, there were a couple of folks already there, playing with a new rope swing, just some strand of rope thrown over an old Willow tree. Physics plays a hand in the deal — the arc described by the makeshift rope swing wasn’t sufficient to clear the surface of the creek at the arc’s lowest point. Get an image? It’s like this: swing out on the rope and land butt first in about three feet of cold creek water. Not really that much fun. The free end of the rope then swings way out over the middle of the creek — the deep part. Perhaps it’s more along the lines of mechanical engineering, rather than physics. I watched, with great amusement, as boy after boy decided to show off and try the rope swing. Higher and higher on the launching limb still resulted in a short swing. It’s the arc. Grab the rope higher. Not take yourself higher. Easy or hard? It’s simple physics, just assess the situation before you land in about three feet of muddy creek water.

Aquarius: Buddy of mine, what are the odds his nickname is Bubba? Anyway, he’s known far and wide for his fabulist nature. Usually, when he starts out on one of his tales of a highly improbable nature, the tale begins with one of two catch phrases. These serve as signals. It’s like an alert. The truth quotient of the next couple of passages is highly suspect. He’s got an inventive mind, likes the sound of his own voice, and the tales can be entertaining. But when he says, “true story,” or “you’re not going to believe this,” it’s little ironic reminder that it’s probably not a true story, and that you’re probably not going to believe what he’s about to say. You’re not going to believe because it’s probably not true. With my one buddy, whose nickname might be Bubba, he’s kind enough to give verbal clues when the tale departs the route of truth and the clue is that the next part of the story is probably fiction. Or there’s an element of fiction. Or he made it up completely while he was driving over here. What with the planets where they are? You’re normally cool and collected Aquarius mind is prone to two departures. One, you might be inclined to tell some rather improbable tale. Just let us know that it’s a “True Story.” Two, you might be inclined to listen to a story that you just have to hear to believe. I’m not saying it’s all a work of fiction, but you know, Bubba does have those two little catch phrases and your Aquarius self would do well to listen for those phrases. Either that, or use them yourself.

Pisces: A new girl moved into the trailer park here. She’s a little older than me, I’m guessing, by maybe two or three years. She was sitting in a lawn chair, reading the morning paper, and I was just ambling back from testing a new lure in the lake. I introduced myself and quickly added the disclaimer that most, if not all, of the rumors about me were quite untrue. “But all I heard were nice things about you,” she said. Right. I know a few of my neighbors will, given a chance, go on and on about what a weird neighbor I am. Sometimes I’m up before the sun, fishing. Other times, I disappear for weeks at a time. Some days, apparently, I sleep until noon. Okay, so all of that is true. But the other stuff that the neighbors say? About how weird I am? Consider the source of that information. That one lady, the new resident? Pisces. I asked. I declined to push for more information, such as the year she was born, I mean, here’s a guy with a ponytail and a fishing pole, standing there half naked, asking strange questions about birthdays. She looked up over her reading glasses and just answered my inane attempts at conversation with a twinkling of the Pisces eyes, and the hint of a bemused smile playing across her face. Yes, she’s heard about me. I don’t suppose I’m that odd, but I wasn’t that “normal,” either. Whatever normal is. Looking at just the date of her birthday, her recent change in fortune to Shady Acres Trailer Park and RV campground, that move coincides with Uranus lining up with the approximate location of her Natal Sun. Good move, if you ask me. Unfortunately, the way the rumor mills runs around here? She’s just adding more nice things to it about me. So if you’re birthday is around the end of February, or the beginning of March, might want to check with a local astrologer, or a fishing guide, to find out where the next move is.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at

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