“Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face!
I had rather lie in the woolen.”
Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing [II.i.26-8)
Sun is heading into Virgo next week.
Aries: supposedly, the warmest part of the summer is drawing to a close. Supposedly, folks are thinking about going back to school. Supposedly, we are starting to think about what the coming months will have in store as the seasons wheel forward. It’s still blistering hot in Texas, with no hope for a change anytime soon. All those suppositions aren’t doing a lot of good. When I was last in the El Paso area, actually up in Southern New Mexico, there was a hot, dry wind blustering in from the north. The sand was sharp, stinging, carried along with — to me — gale force breezes. It was hot and miserable. At times like this, it’s hard to consider that those winds are winds of change, hinting that something different is on the horizon. But it is. There’s a subtle shift, not so much that you notice, but like the desert air, there’s a suggestion that changes are going on. The daylight hours, though, they still bring sultry dog-days of summer. And there will be one more hot spell before anything cools off in the Aries chart. Be prepared, though, as there’s a shift occurring in the near future. Near future? Next week. When Virgo starts, that’s a shift in direction for your Aries self.
Taurus: I snuck into see an “art” film the other evening. It was limited release, foreign-language with-subtitles kind of a film. Before the lights dimmed for the requisite 20 minutes’ worth of trailers, I looked around at the audience. Slightly more male figures than female, but close to an even split. There were several guys with long ponytails, too. Attire was all over the place, from capitalist suits to exceedingly casual beach-wear. But what I liked best was the number of ponytails on guys. For once, I was far from the outsider. I was in my element. Middle-aged guys with long hair, pulled back. Perhaps thinning on top, or creeping back from a receding hairline, but ponytails nonetheless. My element. My people, such as it were. The light went down, the advertising started, I pulled some food out of my pocket, and it was show time. Entertainment on a late summer’s eve. Perfect. For two hours, I was amused, entertained, and afterwards, I could hear snippets of conversation, all about the deeper significance of various elements in the filmmaker’s repertoire. So much for the fun stuff. Out on the street, back into the sultry summer night, back to a computer, and work, and phones and clients, and all that. If you get a break, there’s a chance to run away for a little period of time. Don’t count on this lasting long, though, once the two-hour reprieve is up? Time to get back to work.
Gemini: I suppose it was bound to happen. We were in a small place, more of a seedy dive and less of a restaurant, although, that’s what it purported to be, and there was a band getting ready to play. I observed as the guys unlimbered their instruments and walked through a set-up. One guitar case caught my attention. There were the usual stickers, to be expected, advertising brands of guitars, brands of guitar strings, other bands the guitarist played in, and so forth. But across the front of the case, big as day, there was a B.A.S.S. sticker. I never got a chance to ask about that. The band was one of those typical Austin sounding groups, a little country, a little rock, a little folk. It just struck me as odd that a hard rock guitar case would have any allusion whatsoever to some kind of a fishing network. I always thought guitar players were all about sex and drugs and rock’n’roll. So that sticker might have been an anomaly. Or, it might have been for real, and that guitar player, when he wasn’t working with his ax, he was really fishing. I’ve never seen him on an area lake, but that doesn’t mean a thing. As the Moon shifts around, and likewise, as the Sun heads toward Virgo, think about those apparently incongruous items. See if they do line up, although, it might not make sense to a non-Gemini person.
Cancer: “Oh dear lord, there she is again.” I was enjoying a cool beverage with a Cancer client, and we were outside a place on South Congress, in Austin, in the summer’s evening. My Cancer friend was observing a person with bagpipes, unlimbering the pipes, sticking the bladder under her arm and getting ready to serenade the avenue. Shady spot, across the street, a little knoll under a Live Oak tree. The din of the traffic pretty much drowned out the bagpipe music, but this was more like practice instead of playing a tune. It’s no wonder the Scots were feared as mighty warriors. Facing an opponent with an instrument like that accompanying them into battle? I’d be scared, too. It’s not the first bagpipe player I’ve seen, it’s almost like they all have a relay set up. One’s by the river’s edge, then there is this one, a little further along, about a half mile, so I can only assume that there’s another, a little further up the street. My friend was groaning about this. I was amused. It’s all in how one looks at a situation. Besides, there does seem to be a bagpipe conspiracy at work, and I have just enough Scottish blood to appreciate the fine points of the music. Unlike my Cancer friend, that afternoon.
Leo: I was fishing with one buddy, discussing the approach I use with another buddy. The one who was not present? I generally tie a noisy lure on his line for him. While he’s yet to catch a fish in my presence, his actions seem to attract a great number of fish. That’s a plus, at least for me. So when I was telling the story, the guy who was listening, he offered some sage advice, about cutting the hooks off the lure I let my other friend use. Some bass professionals do just this, to see what’s working at a lake before a big tournament. But for my Leo friends? I don’t suggest that this is good route, not for your selves. In fact, given that the planets are lining up the way they are, especially Mr. Saturn, I’d check. I’m not unscrupulous enough to cut the hooks off my buddy’s lure, but some other person might. Never hurts to check, just to make sure that the bait you’re using, make sure it can actually catch and hold a fish.
Virgo: I got one of those, whining, complaining, begging for a free astrology reading e-mails the other day. I quoted the whole thing back to the sender, and then I added that I wish I had at least ten more emails just like that one. “Ten more?” See, I’ll get — last time I checked — upwards of 200 messages in a day. If I only got ten like that, it would be a pleasure. But over hundred? It’s toil and trouble, more work than it’s worth on some days. Which means, some mail doesn’t get answered right away. I found the comment and the numbers amusing, only ten as opposed to over a hundred. So Virgo dearest, look at the numbers. Look at what’s coming down the old virtual vacuum tube, and see what’s good for you. Check it out. Then, when you get a plea for something for free, you’ve got an answer spooled up. “If I only had ten more like yours….”
Libra: We used to eat at a place called “El Gallo d’Oro,” or for those not so inclined, the Golden Rooster. The running adolescent joke? We called it the Golden Cock. Which, in all fairness, is probably a more accurate translation. Not that it matters. I hadn’t thought about that place in years when a new moniker came up, so to speak, “El Gallito Ingles.” I suppose it would be best to include a modifier that included the word “blanco” in there, as well. But that goes without saying. The little English rooster, I’m imaging a bantam weight fighting cock, stuck in a situation where no one speak a lot of English. Not that this is a problem, the idea of a word barrier has never given me much grief. However, over the next what, about ten days or so? Your Libra self is going to feel like that “el gallito ingles” in a fight. Might not be a cock fight, and it might not be a battle to the bitter end, with nothing but chicken wings left over, but you’re going to feel like the underdog. The outsider. The underweight bantam rooster that some folks might bet on, but you’re a long shot. Except in my mind. Never underestimate that Libra tenacity. Never underestimate what kind of luck Jupiter can bring. And most of all, don’t underestimate what the little guy can do. You’ll be surprised. Or maybe, they’ll be surprised.
Scorpio: Breathalyzer for a computer? No, see I’ve got this one friend, and he’s on, like, his third or fourth DUI. So he had to get his car equipped with a breathalyzer so he could drive it. It’s a state-mandated type of arrangement. After he served his time, both in the lock-up and with performing a very unnatural act to get his car going, we were discussing the various merits and problems associated with the device. Which led to a completely different train of thought. And after perusing the Scorpio chart, I thought about this as a good idea. It’s like, before you can type, before you can log onto the computer, it tests to see if you’ve been drinking. Maybe one drink wouldn’t be too much, or even two drinks, but after about half a case of beer with a couple of tequila shots? How about then? Maybe that’s not a good time to type answers to e-mail, or read certain websites that are guaranteed to pique the Scorpio’s ire. Because what comes out after that? It’s a sordid mess. Maybe equipping a computer or keyboard with a breathalyzer is a wasted idea. Still, there’s something to be said for that concept. Consider that some sort of device, a limiting factor, needs to be inserted between your Scorpio self and the rest of the world. A breathalyzer on the keyboard is a good one. I’m sure you’ll discover some others soon.
Sagittarius: Sagittarius, like, aren’t we the sign that likes to travel? I was exchanging witty repartee one lass of definite West Texas extraction, who, as the Fates might decree, was both Sagittarius and located in West Texas. All in good fun, I hope. She was lamenting that the times between my visits to West Texas were few and far between. I reminded her that she was glad to see me go, the last time I was there. Some folks, during the coming week, will be glad to see us. Some folks will be glad to see us leave. Way it goes. Can’t please all the people all the time, but there are rare weeks when it’s possible to annoy a greater than average number of people. Remember this, and perhaps tone down the Sagittarius ebullient nature. We are what we are, that’s true, but not everyone is one the same wavelength that we’re on, not these days. I’m not saying it’s bad, all I’m saying is that some folks won’t share our joy.
Capricorn: Just about every other month, there’s this one company, and they send me a catalog. Big pictures of shiny objects fill the pages, the descriptions are alluring, and the prices are a little steep for my tastes. I wouldn’t say the products are priced too high, but it’s all a bit rich for my blood. Toys and baubles, fun to look at, give way to flights of imagination, but in no way is there anything I should really ever purchase. I can’t justify the expense, and then to own such an expensive toy, who would use for fear of it getting used? There are, on certain occasions, a time when only the best will do. If this were an example of “only the best will do,” then the cost would be justified. Otherwise, and what I’m suggesting for my Capricorn friends at this moment, maybe this isn’t such a good time to buy. I keep the most recent catalog in the bathroom. Makes great reading material when I’m not otherwise occupied.
Aquarius: I was standing at the edge of the river, fishing pole in hand, but the bait wasn’t in the water. Fleecy clouds were sailing by, overhead. My Aquarius neighbor wandered down to chat, presumably, or maybe just stare at the landscape, the water’s edge and observe a fisherman at work. I pointed to a cloud, acting casual, trying to make light conversation, “Hey, what’s that cloud look like?” I was fishing for an answer, like an ink-blot test, only, I’d asked an Aquarius. The Aquarius neighbor looks up, and says, “Looks like a certain volume of solid and gaseous water vapor, probably liquid forms of water as well, and there might be particles of ice, but I’m not too sure. Why?” There and then, when I least expected it, my fine Aquarius neighbor turned into a scientist. So much for flights of fancy. While everyone else has their heads in the clouds? Keep both those Aquarius feet rooted in reality. It’ll shake us up some. And that’s probably good. Never hurts to be too literal.
Pisces: It was a hot weekend, and a Pisces friend invited me over to enjoy the pool at her apartment complex. I responded by showing up on time with a bag chips and some dip, just so we all had something for poolside enjoyment. She was swigging away at some concoction of squeezed citrus and white wine. “My version of Sangria,” she explained. Her apparent behavior approaching the intoxicated state floated my attitude a little higher, as I thought for sure, poolside frolic would lead elsewhere. Seeing as how her apartment is right there by the pool, hope was springing eternal. Most Pisces know how to hold their liquor, so to speak. Or wine. Or the fact that the wine was mixed with fruit juice, or that the sun went behind a cloud, or maybe, if I’d just looked at this week’s chart, I’d know. When the sun moves into Virgo, it’s very easy to lead a person astray; however, this isn’t “led astray,” as I’m accustomed to being led astray. This is about confusing signals and stupid, hopeful situations. Or hope where there is no hope, like my social interaction. Which one are you? The one who is being perfectly upfront, only the other person is reading the signals all wrong? Or are you confusing an innocent invitation and a chance to cool off in the pool with some other activity that’s not spoken?
