For the Week starting: 5.25.2006

Fishing Guide to the Stars
by Kramer Wetzel
(c) 2005, 2006
by Kramer Wetzel for
For the Week starting: 5.25.2006

“What do you see? You see an ass-head of your own, do you?”
Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream (Act III, scene I, line 111)

Okay, follow the details here, the Sun is in Gemini, and when Gemini ends, it’s the Midsummer, in some calendars, so a quick wit from the Bard’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream is only too appropriate.

Aries: There’s a vast expanse of Shady Acres that borders the lake’s shore. Or, at least, there’s a small expanse, but there’s room for plenty. Three or four folks can be at the water’s edge and not get in the way of each other. I headed down, pole in hand, aiming to wet a quick line, and a neighbor was down there, apparently chatting on a cell phone. I flipped bait into the water, at the other end, certainly not paying any attention, and that one person? Looked at me, got up, and tromped off to some other location. A little later, another person came by, took one look at me, I smiled, and that other person glared at me, then stalked off. If I were an Aries, I’d take it personally when this sort of thing happens. But I don’t. I was remembering a conversation a few days earlier, wherein one neighbor suggested, with all the drama at the trailer park, someone ought to write a soap opera. I’m just wondering, after being glared out a few times, if I’d been found out. Aries: your secrets are safe with me, but that doesn’t mean other people won’t seem to be upset with you. Their problem, not yours.

Taurus: I was up early the other morning. As I was standing outside, it was still kind of cool out, I noticed a lone figure, a middle-aged woman, wearing pants of a certain color, a blouse or shirt that matched, and gripped in her hand was a rolled up apron, again, of a certain color. The color doesn’t imply so much as holler that this person works at a certain restaurant (chain), not too far on down the road. Sort of a long hike, but in the morning’s cool, not bad. Up early again, a just a few days later, and there she was again, and I got slightly better look. I’m guessing middle-aged. I’m guessing, no rings on any fingers. A few wisps of premature gray hair struggling free from a bun. A long morning stroll on the way to work. A city bus runs along this pathway, so I’m figuring the walk was by choice, not by necessity. Good exercise. Bit here’s someone who, I’m guessing from the uniform, will be spending the next 8 hours on her feet, so would I walk there? Not me, but I’m lazy. I’m not a Taurus. As the cool spring (early summer bake is more like it) heats up, when you get a chance to stretch your legs, get a little pleasant Taurus exercise? I’d suggest that you go ahead and take that chance. Like that one person I kept observing.

Gemini: “I did the CD, and I got some good reviews, so I figured that’s all it would take, right?” I Was chatting with a lady, I knew her as a waitress, for a while, and we would exchange pleasantries. I ran to her the other evening, and she was telling me about what she was up to, as she’d cut a CD, a critically acclaimed CD, and then she discovered that making the CD in the first place, that was merely one-tenth of the battle. After that, there’s a lot more work involved. The business end of the business. The hard part, the promotions. Don’t ask me, I’m not any good at it myself. I’m also inherently lazy, so I’m not one to make any judgments. For me, just getting out of bed is had work enough for a day. Unless, naturally, it involves a fishing pole. But this one lady was fishing for cash, fishing for fame, and fishing for a way to sell her CD. Plus she was encountering the usual problems with contracts and so forth. I’d also like to suggest that her hard work, diligence, and her raw ability will carry the day. Plus sell some of her music. Birthdays are goods times, but like my little musician friend? Birthdays (and Mercury) mean that there’s more work ahead for the times to be good. No rest for the Gemini. You’ve got a lot of effort that’s required in the next couple of days, best get ready. Just when you thought you were done.

Cancer: There’s this one fish, and I’m pretty sure we (me and that fish) should be on a first name basis. I caught him several times and, as such, whenever he sees me approach the shoreline with a pole in hand, he swims off in a quick way. Now here’s the odd part, I was detouring to check on the water’s quality, no pole in hand, and the fish just sat there, in the little shaded spot, waiting on some food. So it’s the pole that scares him. As well it should, although, I do tend to try and handle my little fish friends with care. Catching him more than once has developed into an art form, wherein I have to approach the water’s edge with a more stealthy approach, hide behind a tree, that sort of way of getting there. While Mars is trucking along in the final stages of Cancer? A little more stealth is required. Or, like me, you could have a pole in your hand, and that just spooks them, too. Might not be a healthy and hungry buck black bass that you’re chasing, either, but there’s a target, your Cancer prey, and that game is getting spooked. Like my buddy here, in the water.

Leo: Perfect combinations? One of the most perfect collaboration I’ve found is a particular brand of coffee from a low-rent looking coffee place. Then, step across the busy street and get some special ice cream dropped into the coffee, preferably, for me, anyway, Mexican Vanilla. Loathe as I am to do product endorsement, it’s Jo’s Coffee (probably Little City beans) and Amy’s Ice Cream. Now, while I was there, last time, there was a new guy scooping ice cream. He looked at me, listened to my request as I handed him my large cup with a tiny amount of espresso, and he said he couldn’t do it. Health regulations. Or something. Leo. Since when is Leo worried about the rules? The other guy in the kiosk? “Just do it man, he’s cool,” he said with a nod towards me. Yes, I’m cool. But that one Leo almost ruined my afternoon treat/beverage. The myth associated with that ice Cream place? The application is a plain paper bag, the proper applicant creatively fills out the necessary data. Easy to see how a Leo would get the job. Odd to see a Leo sticking to rules so fervently. Must’ve been a new kid. With Mars rapidly approaching, listen to that co-worker (or similar confidant) when it comes to the rules. (The ice cream is so strong that the intoxicating aroma from the combination lasts for almost 24 hours, in the empty cup, on my desk, back in the trailer.)

Virgo: When I’m fishing in one location, I tend to use a certain type of hook. Again, in another location? A different set of tools is required. It’s like, the equipment is in a constant state of adjustment, and that’s what’s a central focus for my little Virgo friends. Not long ago, I was fishing along the inter-coastal waterway, Gulf of Mexico (here, we call it the Third Coast). While I was picking up supplies, I happened across an item called a “flounder hook.” Smaller than a regular bass hook, but bigger than a perch hook, be about the way I’d describe it. While I was largely unsuccessful at the coastal fishing, at least, in respect to flounder, I was pretty good back on the fresh water, and since I still had that flounder hook on one pole, I just tried it. Worked great. Much better than I thought. In part, my discovery was born out of sheer laziness and inept luck. But then again, the way the hook presented itself, the way it was shaped, and the way it cleanly hooked a fish? I was impressed with my dumb luck. I’m always impressed with my dumb luck, but that’s the way it goes. Since you’re a Virgo, I doubt that there’s going to be an element of sloth or dumb luck, but see if there isn’t a situation wherein an unexpected tool fits the task at hand, just perfectly. Virgo-perfect, I might add.

Libra: I’m just a rambling kind of a guy. Middle-aged, with a bit of a “Tex-Mex” paunch around the middle, hair’s thinning a bit, and I’m sure I’ve got some annoying habits, but after this long? They are my habits, and I’m sticking to them. By the end of May, I’m sun-burnt, bare-foot, and perhaps just a little ripe from too much time out-of-doors, as the season goes from medium broil to bake. Just wait, we’re heading for flash-fry before the real summer even gets here. Which means, I’ve adopted, or modified, a lifestyle that accommodates — even embraces — comfort and moving in harmony with the seasons. It’s all about being comfortable, right where you’re at. The Libra world has experienced some upheaval, a little bit of extra change was thrown your way, and you might find yourself a little uncomfortable with such items. But the change is good as it shakes the arrangements you’ve established. Nothing’s wrong with a gentle shake or two, just to see if you’re still paying attention. Like wise, being willing to adapt to a new set of conditions is integral in the upcoming days. Look at a simple lifestyle change that can help you move more freely.

Scorpio: I was at a local business, doing my business, and when the cash drawer popped open, I was, to say the least, amused. Instead of a regular cash drawer, there were little paper cups resting on the bottom of the metal drawer. One cup for each type of coin, and the dollar bills were just carefully laid out in order. The problem had something to do with a manager and the corporate office, and the excuses just get piled on. At least usually the excuses get piled on. The youngster behind the counter, that afternoon? He’d just taken it upon himself to fashion a remedy for the problem. Instead of worrying about where everything is, and who’s to blame for the problem? The previous shift obviously wandered off with the cash tray, but the wheels of commerce must continue to turn, so he’d come up an acceptable solution. I’m sure this was a rather short-term idea, but it worked. A good Scorpio counter person, no less. “They gave me a bank to start with, but no drawer tray, so I just used the little cups. I had to cut them down a little, so the drawer would close,” he was telling me, after I commented. You can bet that someone upstream from your position is going to fall down on the job. The weak link is most assuredly not Scorpio. Make do. A little Scorpio invention is a quick answer. It might not be a long-term solution, but it’ll get you through the day(s).

Sagittarius: I can be, at times, a pecuniary illegitimate reprobate. “Tightwad,” might be another term. But sometimes the cheap luxuries in life are the most amusing, like a personal favorite: road food. Food stuff that’s found in convenience stores, or a little stand by the side of the road. While health department issues are generally addressed in such places, there’s always a chance that something can happen. Something bad. I won’t say, for sure, that it was a bad hot dog, but I wound up with mild case of dysentery, and I’ll assume it was from some of my road food. I’ve joked about road kill as a suitable food source, but I doubt I would actively engage in scrapping dinner off the road. I can’t blame any one place, or maybe, my Sagittarius constitution isn’t as hale and hardy as it once was. Whatever the source, my little upset tummy was soured by some item I’d ingested. I can easily look at the planets and say, “It was the Gemini Sun that did it.” But let’s be a little honest, given my taste for cheap roadside culinary attractions, it was more likely one of the questionable items I’d partaken of. To save yourself just such an upset? Might want to forgo some of the usual crap and stick to a more sanitary environment.

Capricorn: I used to have this phone, it was a PDA, a cell phone (digital, actually), and it kept an appointment book, a rudimentary astrology chart program, and it was a camera. I’d call it an “executive toy,” but I really did use it lot. Wore the paint off the plastic in a couple of places. I was on a shuttle flight, going from here to there, one of those hops that’s not too long in the air, more time is spent getting to the airport, going through security than is spent in the air. So I was playing with the phone, really, I was writing a quick note, and the flight attendant walked down the aisle. “Have to put away the two-way pager,” she said, with a firm tone, “you know that.” Before I could explain it was PDA, not a phone, she was gone down the aisle in a swish. I looked at my watch as I holstered my phone/PDA/electronic toy. Device. I know the rules. I adhere to the rules. Religiously. Faithfully. The wireless was turned off. Before I could point that out, though, she was gone. I could’ve pleaded my case, or, for the next twenty minutes, I cold just read their stupid in-flight magazine. Which is what I did. The details are not important, it’s the sentiments that you’re going to feel. Called on the carpet for something that some other person makes hasty judgment about. Until Mars passes on into the next sign? Just don’t fight the oppression. Making a scene? Sometimes, it’s really not worth it.

Aquarius: “Arguing with an angry person is like mud wrestling with a pig. Pretty soon you realize the pig likes it.” — Green Mesquite Cashier’s Stand, Barton Springs Road, Austin, Texas. There’s probably a better source for that quote, but I like my BBQ places. Plus I like surly help. Saucy might be a better choice of words. But the message isn’t about the help or the BBQ sauce, it’s about the message on that little sign, posted by the cashier’s stand. I’m not suggesting that a decent Aquarius will start an argument, but you are probably going to find yourself encountering a strongly dissenting opinion. Which, to make it worse, flies in the face of what your strong Aquarius mind knows is right. The other person, the other side of the situation? Remember that suggestion from the sign, that some folks just like to argue for the sake of arguing. Even is that person, place or thing is wrong, they still like to argue. There are a couple of theories that can explain this, but I don’t believe that the theories of arguing are germane to the discussion. If it’s not Neptune, then it’s Saturn, but one or the other will push an issue in front of Aquarius. Sometimes, it’s a far more noble to step back and not engage in the argument, after all, that just makes the wrong person happy.

Pisces: I was meandering down Barton Spring Road, between First and Lamar. Know the stretch of road? No? Doesn’t matter, two lanes, each way, plus a center turn lane, at least in places. Plus, as there’s heavy residential areas along the south side of the street, there are a couple of innocuous traffic lights. More annoyances than useful traffic control features, if you ask me, but the city never did (ask me). I was watching, waiting to cross at one of the traffic lights, and the light changed. As I glanced up, I saw a small truck approaching, and obviously this one driver wasn’t aware that the light changed. I waited. He slipped about halfway through the intersection, realized his indiscretion, and stopped. Then, although, the truck was three-quarters of the way through the intersection when he stopped, he backed up. As I strolled out in front, I smiled. He smiled back, looked a little red in the face, and there was no telltale phone to blame, and the music wasn’t so loud that the driver could blame that, either. Honest mistake. Not paying attention to the road. And If I hadn’t been my usual cautious self? I might have been hamburger. I don’t know what his sign was, but I do know that I’m not a Pisces, and I was the one who was almost splattered. There’s a sense of distraction, there’s a sense that you’re not paying attention, there’s a feeling that something’s not quite right in the Pisces world. Not quite wrong, either, just not quite the way it’s supposed to be. I’ll be a little more careful around my Pisces friends. I’d suggest you pay a little closer attention to minor annoyances like traffic lights.

All Rights Reserved
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 a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at

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