Fishing Guide to the Stars
by Kramer Wetzel
(c) 2005, 2006 by Kramer Wetzel for astrofish.net
For the Week starting: 5.11.2006
“For now, these hot days, is made blood stirring.”
Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet (III.i.4)
Odd note, seems that there was historical reference to the material for Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, a couple married in 1302 in Citadelia, Italy. (Narrative was novelized then versified, or maybe that’s versified then novelized in Italian, first.)
Aries: I was listening to a neighbor talk about his this is his favorite time of the year. Which got me thinking, when’s my favorite time of the year? Sure, the late spring is nice, but early spring is nice, too, with flowers and green stuff growing and all that. Then there’s the winter, with a few days that are warm enough to fish, and the fish seem active, so that’s a good time, too. Or the summer, when it’s hot (going to be a hot one coming up), and the atmosphere seems to be on a mild broil for weeks on end. Like that, too. Or the late fall, like in November, when the fish are fattening up for winter time, and the days are balmy. About the only time I don’t like is the “winter” itself, about a week of really cold weather, but it makes girlfriends and the cat all snuggly, so that’s not without merit. The best time of year for Aries? Pick one, but each season and its variations, has its perks. Venus is flowing along in your sign, adds a touch of goodness to everything. When’s your favorite time? This spring could be a good time for you, if you pause long enough to enjoy it. Venus is good to you. Enjoy being in the moment, no matter what the seasonal variation is.
Taurus: I’m pretty sure I’ll hear about it, given where the Taurus planets are these days. I’m pretty sure that certain Taurus will fire up the word processor, typewriter, telex machine, or something, and I’ll get a notification. Hot days in South Texas lead to blood stirring, and usually, this is a good time. On the coast? The redfish are running. In the inland lakes and reservoirs? The bass are done spawning, and it’s not too hot yet, so they’re feeding well. So there’s a much afoot here in Taurus, in the later spring time. Celebrate. Fish some, get out-of-doors. There’s a sense that some kind of activity is worthwhile. The problem, if there is one, has to do with Miss Venus still loping along at her own, sardonic pace, in Aries. She’s sort of lagging behind. That’s why, more so now than ever before, it’s a good idea to get your Taurus self out. Venus ain’t caught up with the action yet. So realize that you might be surrounded by friends, but that one person you were really counting on? He or she might not show up. Yet. He (or she) will be there, soon enough. Got to give Venus a chance to catch up.
Gemini: I was in a coffee shop, and a favorite barista had covered up her beautiful brown eyes with blue contacts. I had to make some comment, “You did something with your hair, right?” A few days later, she had on glasses. “You streaked your hair again, didn’t you?” I was playing, and the little Gemini acknowledged that she knew I was playing, and some how, I still garnered some points for noticing. A few. But I understand that the Sun and Mercury are in Taurus at this moment, and will be for the next few days. With those planets in a sign that precedes Gemini, there’s bound to be a few problems. Like obnoxious dirty old men (like myself) who leer and make comments that are obliquely complimentary. Yet those remarks might fall way short of intended goal, too. Plus, no matter what we say, it’s going to hit the Gemini psyche as a “close but not quite” type of comment. Maybe you’re not changing the color of the contacts you wear. Or maybe you don’t even need glasses, or, for that matter, maybe you don’t add color to your hair. But there’s a change that you try to affect, and a few observant sols will notice. However, we may not comment in the way you were expecting. At least we noticed something. Don’t count on the expected responses.
Cancer: Let’s establish some facts: I’m male. I’m blatantly sexist. The patriarchy is on its way out, but as a Caucasian Male, I’m still clinging (hopelessly, I might add) to the shreds of what’s left. Okay, enough chatter about that. I was on the trail, it’s a year-round form of exercise for me, but for some folks, it’s something they do in the springtime. I was being paced by a girl, oblivious to the world because she had on a personal music device with white ear-buds (iPod). And she was signing to the song. Not really singing, more like grunting. It was a sub-vocal noise, and to me, it sounded strangely sexual, like the moan of a lover, the unintelligible growl of a moment of shared ecstasy. Only she was alone, wrapped in her audio world, and pretty much oblivious to the fact she was making noises. To me, the sound was overtly sexual. A quick glance at her face, though, and it was clear that she didn’t know she was making that much noise. I’m all for getting out, and I’m all about endorsing our hike and bike trail. I’m all for shared ecstasy, too. But I’d caution my little Cancer friends, male or female, to be careful about making noises when other folks can overhear those noises. Mars? Yes, Mars does that, makes you a little more vocal than you intended to be.
Leo: This could be a past-life influence, but I’m not sure I buy all that crap about past-lives. Or it could be a purely subconscious reaction, too, or, in part, it could be a learned response. I was standing on the dock the other morning, just idly flipping some bait in the lake, Not really doing much, the usual hum and drone of a trailer park coming awake, that old couple making bacon and eggs, the smell of Mr. Coffee doing his thing, and there I was, standing on the dock. Only, the breeze was up, not so much that there were whitecaps, but a decent chop, nonetheless. I was watching the bait in the water, testing, you know, observation is important, and I was rocking on my bare feet, rolling with the waves. Only, the dock wasn’t moving. It’s firmly rooted in the dirt. Shoreline, whatever. It’s a fixed object. Still, I was swaying gently to accommodate the waves. As if I were on a boat. I got a little self-conscious and furtively glanced around. No witnesses. I’d wished I brought my iPod, or the ear-buds, at least, so it would look like I was listening to music, but in reality, the only music was the sound of the waves and trailer park waking up. Like me, on that rock-solid foundation of the dock, you’re going to find yourself swaying a bit to accommodate the waves. Instead of pretending that you’re not, go ahead and let your body, for whatever reasons, do what it feels like it needs to do. I tried standing absolutely still, and that didn’t work, as I got a little dizzy. We don’t need any dizzy Leo folks.
Virgo: I moved into this place out of economic necessity: it was cheap. Tiny, but cheap. Then over the years I discovered that I could get by with a let less than I’m used to you. The only problem is space and storage. I thought about renting a storage unit, but that is like the same thing as renting a bigger place, only, as far as I know, I can’t live in storage unit. Plus, in town like Austin? With all the coming and going, and the big university, storage units seem to cost more. Besides, I had some trouble — in another town — with theft from my storage space. And flooding. So I’ve resolved to live a simpler life. What was a short-term solution, driven by a personal economic down-turn, has become a lifestyle. One that I’ve easily grown accustomed to. The only problem is that I keep acquiring new books, and there’s no room for them. And fishing gear, I’ve collected a lot of that, too. I don’t have an easy solution, but I do periodically go through and “weed out” that which does not belong here any more. Suggestion for my Virgo friends? Even if you don’t live in trailer in South Austin, along the shores of the Colorado River, I still recommend a certain amount of “weeding.” Might not be big stuff, could just be trinkets and other dust collectors that need new homes, as in some other home besides yours. A little less clutter in your life goes a long way to helping you see the real projects more clearly.
Libra: There’s a place, not far from me, okay, it’s a bit of hike, but one I do rather frequently, and this one place advertises “fresh fruit” items. I’m not much of judge of how fresh the fruit really is, but if the apples are any indication, they are usually crisp and juicy, with a little bit of a “snap” to them, almost as if they weren’t quite ripe. Almost, but not quite. The problem is, I might be used to mushy apples, and as such, face-to-face with the real thing, maybe I’m not getting what I’m used to, but what I’m getting might be better. It’s all about what you use as a point of reference. Mr. Mars and his cohort, Miss Venus, they are playing a little game with you. It’s not bad, but I’d back up and look at what you use as a point of reference. I’d slow down, and consider the point from which everything starts. If the fresh fruit example doesn’t work, consider the way “Universal Time” is all set for Greenwich Mean Time, as if the whole world revolved around a little spot by London. But there has to a staring point, an anchor, a place to start counting from. A reference point to mark the spot where were start counting from. Or, like the apples, what’s good and what’s not good. Or better, even. Consider the Libra starting point and its referents before you make judgements.
Scorpio: On the hike and bike trail, I’ve learned to listen. In the springtime, it gets crowded on the trail, and the conversations can be good for eavesdropping. I was pacing two young girls, I’m guessing college-age, and they were behind me, talking animatedly. I slowed my pace so they would pass me. “So, you see, I had to drop the class, I’m not like you and (some girl’s name), you know, I have to study hard. I can’t just, like, look at the book before the test and know everything. Besides (some professor’s name) is pretty tough on his grading.” And so on. I thought about that student, the dropped class, and the tough professor. Had my share of them. I thought about the way I used to sign up for the maximum load each time, then drop the classes I obviously wouldn’t do well with, either because of personality or work-load, or maybe even because the actual material wasn’t very interesting. Then I looked at your chart. Life isn’t like being in college wherein one can shop classes, or if there’s a tough class you won’t pass, you can’t just drop it. Too bad, too, as it wouldn’t ever hurt to stack the deck in the Scorpio’s favor. Which is what astrology and horoscopes are all about. Like that girl on the trail, there’s an issue, an item, a situation, maybe even a class you’re taking, and the easiest answer is to just drop it. You can pick it up again, like, you know, next semester, different teacher and all.
Sagittarius: It was a set-up for a joke, at dinner, the other evening. Over plate of Tex-Mex, I was getting around to the “dog versus boyfriend” jokes. I was pointing out similarities, and then difference. A Sagittarius girl piped in, “Yeah, but unlike you, the dog’s fixed, Kramer.” The comment garnered a round of laughter, to the point that the guy at the next table observed we were having fun. Of course we were. Just a friendly meal, and few male-bashing comments, which I take in a good-natured way. Especially from that assembly of female dining companions. Bitter women, you know. The Sagittarius wit is sharp. Some days, it’s razor sharp. Like the other evening. Like the coming few days. Like that comment — shot like an arrow, straight to the heart of the matter. I’m inherently good-natured about my foibles and silly outlook on life. I’m understanding. And I was setting up for a punch line, I just didn’t expect the bear the brunt of the joke. Besides, I did get pre-empted by another Sagittarius, little quicker on the tongue than I. Rapier wit. Use it correctly. And if you’re skewered by it? That’s just the way it goers, roll with the punch lines.
Capricorn: “Blackened Sole” is a culinary item, which originated, I’m out on limb here, in Louisiana. I’ll suppose, that “blackened” anything can trace its roots back to Louisiana cuisine. After last week, I was thinking that I missed “blackened” as a culinary art form. Looking at Mr. Mars, frying his way through Cancer, I thought about Blackened Redfish, a local delicacy, then Blackened Chicken, then finally, that (locally) rare menu item, Blackened Sole. Then I thought about Capricorn. That’s what it feels like, you’ve been cooked in the astrological fire, and the cook has added a big dose of cayenne as a major ingredient. The pepper sauce is hot. The Capricorn skin is burnt. Mars is like a hot griddle, and you’re getting a Martian treatment. Which is very much like Cajun Cooking and hot spices. And a hot frying pan. A little more action, a little less talk, and certainly, a lot less complaining on your part will help move you through this sensation. Plus, but this is personal, a good dose of some hot, spicy food will help. Variations on a theme: the amount of spice in food, the amount heat an individual can take, varies with locale and personal temperaments. Adjust as need be, but look for some spice in one form or another. Don’t confuse “blackened sole” with “blackened soul.” There’s a difference.
Aquarius: Did you ever make an introduction that you had that sinking feeling you’d regret? I was considering your chart, especially the placement of Neptune versus relative position of Mr. Mars. I got to thinking about it, looked it up in a book, looked it up in another book, then thought some more. Finally, I put the books away as they didn’t shed any new insight. Nothing I didn’t already comprehend. No new info there. But I kept playing with the energies, what was there, and I kept thinking about it. A friend from Austin was on the Left Coast, and I gave my friend my Sister’s number, told her to call. A day later, I started to regret my decision. My Sister, bless her heart, is full of lies, half-truths, rumors, and fairly blatant misrepresentations about me. None of this is malicious, family and all, but some of her material about me falls in the category of “myth.” Pure an d simple. Fabricated data. Not even remotely factual. Got an image here? My little friend from Austin, stuck on the Left Coast, and my Sister, spinning these yarns with not even the remotest thread of authenticity. When my friend arrived back in Austin, she had strange look in her eyes, and she seemed a little skittish around me. Careful about the introductions, never can tell what might or might happen. Me? I can blame Mars.
Pisces: Fancy fishing reel that costs a lot of money versus a simpler reel that costs a lot less? Conventional wisdom, what I would expect for performance versus cost? The more expensive reel ought to be better. This applies to a lot a more than just fishing reels but I was spooling up some new line on an old reel the other afternoon, and this example just leapt out at me. It’s an older model fishing reel, no fancy buttons that have satellite tracking, no on-board computer chips that calculate the best ratio for spin control, and nothing but springs and gears. Simple. Straightforward. And, to my way of seeing things, this simpler reel works. Works well for me. I’ve got fancier, higher-tech gear. I’ve got one with all the little button and adjustments and computer-assisted (something) in it. In some conditions, like, when I’m stalking high-tech fish, I’ve found that all the gizmo thingies work well. But sometimes, in fishing, in life, and especially in the Pisces life, simpler is better. Old-fashioned, tried and true, simple, direct, no bells, no on-board computer chip that determines the right amount of this or that, sometimes, it’s the simpler ways that work best. Instead of a high-tech, convoluted, and expensive answer, look for an object, an item, a tool that’s perhaps out-of-date, but works just fine. “Now hand me that hammer while I delicately adjust the motor….”
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copyright (c) 2005, 2006 Kramer Wetzel, for astrofish.net
