For the Week starting: 3.23.2006

Fishing Guide to the Stars
by Kramer Wetzel
(c) 2005, 2006 by Kramer Wetzel for
For the Week starting: 3.23.2006

“(you) prattle something too wildly.”
Shakespeare’s The Tempest (III.i.57)

Not that it’s ever been an accusation leveled at me, or anything….

More travel info, and upcoming dates are here.

Aries: Success and failure. Sometimes, too, a failure is really a success. I’m sure that you’ve got some plans that are going to be thwarted. I was set to head the lake, a late February morning, up at 4 AM, swilling viscous coffee, loading my pockets with plastic worms, when the phone rang. “Hey bud, thunderstorms, think we’d better cancel.” So there I was, partially caffeinated, wide-awake, and ready to go. I messed with the computer, fed the cat, swilled more coffee, and worked on a back-burner project. A few hours later, I was standing in the shower, listening to the rain drum down on the tin roof while I had hot water pouring over me. To say I was disappointed about the missed fishing date is an understatement. However, as I reflected, I managed to get a tolerable amount of intolerable work out of the way, and since it was a rain date, I didn’t feel like I lost valuable regular work time on the project. Then too, as I listened to the rain while I was in the shower, and thought about that cold February rain, I realized that maybe it was good thing that I wasn’t out on the lake with cold water running down my backside. Aries, sometimes a failure is a success.

Taurus: I was walking along a downtown street. Part of the usual décor for the downtown area is the odd homeless guy. In this case, it was a person of passing acquaintance, since we pass each other several times a week. He took one look at what I was wearing, and he swung into a familiar tune. Sort of, as I’m not sure he had the chords right on the guitar, “Strumming my six string, on my front porch swing….” I’m pretty sure if I’d stood around and listened, I’d been coerced into coughing up some “donation” for the street musician. Not that I’m opposed to busking, per se, just that I know the guy’s a Leo, and it’s a Capricorn’s song. It wasn’t until a little later when I was looking at my reflection in the mirror behind the bar at a coffee shop, until then, I didn’t realize I was sorely pandered to. I smiled. To me, it’s all sort of joke, a guy on the street trying to play me, of all people, for a little spare change. I’m about that far from being just like him. (I’m holding up a thumb and index finger, approximately ten millimeters apart.) Now, with Mars where he is, and the Sun where he is, you’re going to get played, like me. I doubt that you’re this far (thumb to index finger = ten millimeter gap) from being broke, but you can appreciate the gesture. Not the ten-millimeter gesture, the idea that someone — might not just be a “domicile challenged” person — is playing you. Smile. Enjoy the joke. Doesn’t mean you have to take them seriously.

Gemini: “Will a blanket apology do? Or do I have to try an ascertain just what you perceive that I did wrong?” While it’s a comment usually reserved for cute couples, I’m serious, I heard it the other afternoon. Verbatim. From a Gemini. From a Gemini girl, no less. She was having a slightly heated discussion with what was to soon become an ex-boyfriend. She’d — apparently — made one of those “oh-so-typical” Gemini comments. Got right to the heart of the situation, right to the very core, but it cut just a little too close to certain “issues,” which might have been best left untouched. Mars is like that, cuts like a knife. Cuts like a very sharp knife at that. That’s a problem, too, because in some situations, a generic, blanket apology just doesn’t cut it. I’m still looking for a good “get out of jail” card. Never can have too many cute, “Oh baby I’m so sorry I (said, did, implied) that” type of card. I’d suggest, before you get in trouble, that you look for a cute card to express the sentiments. Never hurts to be ready for the last the little Mercury mishaps before it occurs.

Cancer: One my clients was describing her most recent ex-boyfriend. Seems as how, somewhere between 2 and 8 beers, the ex was a wonderful person to be around. Delightful. Witty, bright, articulate, funny to the core. But it was that magic point where everything came together, and, “You have to watch him. After he hits 8? Gets up to ten or twelve? Trouble.” Not being a “drinking man” these days, I wouldn’t know. But that evening, she kept a careful eye on his consumption, and as I would expect, the ex? He was very, very funny. It’s matter of understanding what the limits are, in any given situation, and working within those limits. It’s a function of several planets, most notably Mercury, just starting to get hisself corrected, and thereby, correcting the problems we’re all facing. So there are certain limits, and if your fine Cancer self lets one of us step over the limits? It turns into an ugly scene. Which is why the funny guy is now rated as an ex-boyfriend, instead of as a current beau. Get us to stick to our limits, but do so in a gentle manner.

Leo: One of my routes through Austin includes traversing a railroad right-of-way. Nominally, it’s a green belt, too, and I get a mixture of data, flora and fauna, spring is in the air, the legendary hobo camp, and then, right after a great freight train rumbled by, I thought about taking the rail bridge across the river. I tentatively stepped out onto the span, plaintively ignoring the “no trespassing signs.” As I looked down to the roadway, probably thirty feet under my feet, I felt a wave of vertigo. I never thought I was afraid of heights. I might not be, but the prospect of crossing a quarter mile of track, suspended in the air with only rail ties providing me with inadequate footing? I demurred. If you’re in Austin, it’s the bridge that crosses the river, clearly visible from the Lamar bridge and the First Street bridges. If you’re not in Austin, just imagine, because with what’s going on? It’s like my first few purposeful strides out on the railway bridge. Yes, it’s against the law. Like that’s going to stop me. But some kind of internal alarm system did go off, and I turned back. Which was good, because not 15 minutes later, another long freight came rumbling along. I’d would’ve been out on the bridge with no place to go. At least one time this week, you’re going to be tempted to break the rules. At that time, your well-founded internal alarm will go off. Heed that internal voice that says, “Leo, dear, darling, I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

Virgo: As our Virgo lives careen out-of-control during the typical Mercury-is-backwards time, I spend an inordinate amount of time fishing. Not much point to thrashing the surface of the lake with a fishing line, though, as I’ve caught most of the fish that I’m going to catch. However, as activities go, especially under a Retrograde Mercury in Pisces, I can think of a lot worse ways to waste my time. The problem is my left elbow. I’ve developed “tennis elbow” from fishing. I’d say from fishing too much, but there is no such thing as too much fishing. I’ve had to adapt a little, a different pole, a different cast, a modified way of attacking the prey. The target. Or, just a change of my fishing style. The real problem with the elbow? Doesn’t hurt when I’m fishing. It’s when I stop fishing that the pain flares up. I’ve had Carpal Tunnel before, so this a familiar kind of dull ache. I’m familiar with the source of the tendonitis. My fishing elbow and your Mercury-related problems are very similar. You’re not about to stop being a Virgo, but you can change up the pace. Switch hands, switch styles, move from a baitcast to a spinner. Don’t give up the fight, just try a radically different approach. And like my sore elbow, the problems don’t go away, but you’ll notice, an eerie similarity, it doesn’t hurt while you fish.

Libra: I was shuffling through my coffee shop “frequent flyer” cards, looking for one that was close to being filled out. Wanted that free shot of coffee one afternoon. I then realized that this probably looked bad, as I had almost a dozen different coffee shop “frequent flyer cards.” I thought to myself, “Self, this looks bad,” as there was card from a place on the coast — unused except for about three cups of coffee stamps on it. Plus, a place in California, and another one from place overseas. That leaves a huge number of local establishments that I’ve gathered “frequent coffee drinker” bonus points at. It’s usually, “buy ten, get one free,” per the cards’ instructions, but one place offers free after eight stamps. I was busy looking for a free cup of coffee. Figured if I combined one or more of the cards I could swing it. The cards stack up when Mercury is retrograde because I’ve found that single shot of caffeine, in any number of variable combinations, is a useful way to make it through the day. Ah yes, but the trouble I ran into? I didn’t have enough stamps from any one place to get that free coffee. Which is what I wanted.

Scorpio: I was sitting in the front of the boat, running the trolling motor, heading into a little cove I know about, hoping to get some bass who were done spawning, and hopefully hungry. My buddy in the back of the boat is a Scorpio. “Yeah, the wife was home with nothing but sexy lingerie and two velvet ropes, when I got home the other night. Told me to tie her up and do what I wanted. I tied her up and went fishing.” Since it was coming from the back of the boat, I was sucked into the joke and buying all details. Dry delivery. Wry bit of humor. Sounds like something I’d do, too. I went for the first part of that joke the same way I was hoping fish were going to take my bait. Hooked me good, that one Scorpio. It’s sort of an old joke, too, but the set-up, and delivery was just perfect. Calm, slightly overcast day, perfect for fishing in Central Texas. Kind of balmy, perhaps a tad cool. It was the delivery that got me. Typical Scorpio. Better yet, that kind of dry delivery with twist at the end? That’s a good model for your Scorpio self. Perhaps an excellent model, too, as you know the rest of us will get roped in.

Sagittarius: I was in the back patio of a BBQ restaurant. The owner was taking delivery of a new puppy, and he was introducing the new puppy to the old boy. The back story, near as I could gather, was that the older male dog used to have mate, but the mate died, so here was this new puppy, same breed (looked like a mutt to me), and the old dog was visibly excited, wanting to sniff the puppy. I made a passing comment, intended as humor, I mean, look at the older dog, grey on the snout, gray along the jaw, he was like me, a little gray at the temples these days. The comment was something along the lines that I wished someone would give me a sweet young thang when I’m old(er). I thought it was a nice gesture. Waitress overheard my comment. When she served me my lunch, it wasn’t delivered so much as it was slammed down in front of me. Humorous comment? Somehow I don’t think it was received in quite the same tone as I intended it. And therein is the problem with Sagittarius, what with Mars still frying through Gemini. I’d watch out for, as the quote goes, don’t want to “prattle too wildly.” Unless, of course, you like all the women around you surly and ill-tempered because of a joke that went astray.

Capricorn: As a Capricorn, you have this lovely, kind of off-beat, sense of humor. A little sarcastic, a little on the weird side, and little misunderstood. Maybe frequently misunderstood. Maybe some folks just don’t get it. Maybe I do. Maybe I even appreciate that slightly bent way of seeing events and people in life, and just perhaps, I’ll get the joke. But I’m an exception, not the rule. That’s the caution and the warning for the week. It’s that weird sense of humor that makes you smile. Just because you’re smiling, though, that doesn’t mean everyone else, the other ten signs (remember, a good Sagittarius will appreciate the comment), will approve of you snide little joke. Hey, I’ll find it funny, but at least one person will think that you really did step over the line. This is a function of the Sun now in Aries and the Moon starting this Thursday, and then Mercury starting to correct its self. Imagine that your life is kind of like a cartoon, from the print side of life, and imagine that you’re writing what goes in the little dialogue bubble, over your Capricorn cartoon head. So when I suggest you watch what you say? I’m serious, watch what words you put into that dialogue bubble. Better yet, instead of dialogue box, make it a thought bubble. Look at the comment, and then think about saying it — after careful consideration.

Aquarius: One of my buddies, his name is not “Bubba,” plays a lot of poker. I was going to ask him how these cards stack up, but I know it’s really a sucker bet. However, I am one for betting the long shot, the underdog always appeals to me. My Aquarius betting buddy, what I was wondering, does a Mars Trine beat a Saturn Opposition? The problem is that the odds are kind of long on this one. Saturn tends to weigh in a little heavier than Mars, and an opposition tends to trump a trine. That’s the problem. There’s a not a lot of luck you can count on. What to do with the opposition and the trine? There’s a way to work this thang, if you’re careful about it. But it takes a little more dedicated perseverance than you’d really like to give up, especially with that tinier Mars influence giving you a little jolt of energy. It’s not a big dose, it’s like a single shot of espresso, on warm spring afternoon, not really enough caffeine to get you going strong, but a little push, anyway. Think, Aquarius: do the right thing.

Pisces: I had a long-standing love affair with one fish. On more than one occasion, it’s been a half-dozen times this spring so far, I’ve caught the same fish. Same place. One evening, same kind of bait, about two hours apart. A gentle and sweet Pisces will worry that I’m harming the fish. Catching the same one, time and again? Solid evidence that I’m not harming the fish. One Pisces suggested that I just go ahead and eat the danged ole fish, get it over with. I couldn’t do that, the fish is now like a pet. Not a particularly bright pet, but a dear friend anyway. When I see boats approaching my spot, I tend to act strangely, in hopes that it will scare them away from my protected pet. Catching the same fish twice, in a single day is not that unusual of an occurrence. It’s not that unusual — for me. When the same fish strikes twice, or three times, as one time she got away with the bait, don’t be so surprised. Mercury and Uranus make nice, in a weird way. So it’s not what you expect, but as Mercury slows down and turns around, it could surprise even your Pisces self. More than once.

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copyright (c) 2005, 2006 Kramer Wetzel, for

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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