For the Week starting: 6.22.2006

Fishing Guide to the Stars
by Kramer Wetzel
(c) 2005, 2006 by Kramer Wetzel for
For the Week starting: 6.22.2006

“Such short-lived wits do wither as they grow.”
Shakespeare’s Love’s Labor’s Lost (III.i.54)

Tempers and such will be short as the days are the longest. Hot summer nights that seem too short. Jupiter squares Saturn. In fixed signs. Plus the solstice and so forth.

Aries: When I look at my schedule and realize that I’ve got a couple of full days out of doors, I tend to treat my hair a little different. I’ve got this cheap conditioner, and I’ll load it up in my hair, sort of like a moose. Mouse. Whatever that stuff is called. Hair gel. I grease my ponytail into a single, long strand and then wind, sun, more wind, the lake’s spray from the bow of boat, the inadvertent swim, all of that doesn’t leave me with a tangled mess. It’s a little trick, and with my hair thinning in spots, I try to hold onto what I’ve got. It’s important to maintain some semblance of dignity. Or, in my case, keep my hair from becoming knotted mess. Inadvertent dread locks? Not me. However, my little trick serves it purposes. Hats help, too, to keep the hair from becoming truly gnarly. Like my schedule, you’ve got a couple of full days, out-of-doors. Or whatever passes for activity in the Aries lifestyle. To help maintain some degree of Aries composure? Slick your hair back. Or do something similar, like cinch down a hat. Something. You’re going to be busy, and I’m just trying to prepare you, as best I can/ For me? It looks like fun in the sun. Or something like that.

Taurus: The movie is the cult classic, “Clerks.” Lovingly shot on a tight budget, brilliant writing, and the film spawned a series. But Clerks was the best, in my opinion. There was a raw sense, besides, it was done in black and white, probably as much a function of the budget as anything. See, in the movie, there’s this one guy, and he’s having a bad day. He keeps saying, throughout the movie, something to the effect of, “I’m not supposed to be here today.” After every miscue, mishap, and a roller hockey game on the roof of the store, the character reiterates the message, about not supposed to even be at work that day. The film’s story span is a single day. I was toying with the Taurus chart wheels, and I kept thinking about that one character. I kept hearing his voice, seeing him on the screen, suggesting, in black and white, “I’m not supposed to be here today.” Over and over. Situations in the film go from bad to worse, and, just like life, some things never get better. I kept thinking about the film with its noir comedy, or bawdy comedy, or just sick humor, and I kept twirling your charts around. If you approach this next couple of days with a dark sense of the absurd, you’ll come out just fine. But borrowing from the script for that movie? “I wasn’t even supposed to be here today,” is good disclaimer, too.

Gemini: There’s a weird sense of activity going on within your Gemini chart. Not long ago, I’d taken a girlfriend fishing, down at the coast. Good little escape, got her a little fishing pole, and we picked up some live bait. I baited her hook, she lowered the line into the water, and while I was still messing with my own gear, affixing a proper hook to the line, she squealed. “I caught I fish! What do I do now?” Reel it in. I suppose that goes with the territory, doesn’t it? Obvious isn’t always obvious to non-Gemini people. (Non-Gemini female fisher person.) It was the biggest catch of the day, as it turned out. Beginners luck? Perhaps. Perhaps, it was the skill I used when I baited the hook, too. There’s always that. Or knowing how to be in the right place at the right time. Assist someone. And you’ll be lucky like my friend was on that fateful fishing trip when she caught the biggest fish of the day. I’m not bitter. But you’d think I should get the biggest fish, having all the right gear and so forth? Therein is the part about the helping Gemini person. You might not get the biggest fish, but you’re right next to him. Her. It. Still have some bragging rights. Don’t be bitter.

Cancer: A long, electric guitar song was playing. Here. I was listening to it. It builds, loops back on its theme, slows down, builds back up again, then slows it down. And I think the song is like, about 8 or 10 minutes long. I was rocking back and forth in the chair, while I Was looking at the Cancer chart wheels to figure out what to say, and that evocative solo, dueling guitars, left then right, then left, and center for both, as that song wended its way along, I was humming. Humming and rocking. Music moves me, invigorates, enthuses, and, sometimes, the right music can act like motivation. It’s that slow build in that one particular song, which is so important. Rhythm, thematic elements that are played back and forth, echoed, and then repeated, each time, in a slightly different format. I don’t know what it’s called, guitar solo? Old rock? Who knows? Who cares? It’s about building to the grand finale, about building that theme, the same elements, repeated over and over, but each time it’s just a little different. It’s a slow build, too, and in a time when most pop songs are about three minutes long, an old classic of that duration allows for more time — and space — to build up the elements. Just like that song, with certain phrases repeated and echoed, then repeated again, slightly faster? That’s the way it’s going in Cancer. Don’t peak too soon. It’s going to be a good conclusion, with a crash of cymbals, guitar leads dueling away.

Leo: Oh dear me, I forgot about this. Jupiter sits at an angle to Saturn, and it’s making for some rather discomfiting energy. That’s exacerbated by Mr. Mars frying pretty good in Leo. There really should be two parts to this notice, as served up by the planets. The first part is dealing with the folks who growl. That really should be left to the Leo portion of the sky, but, I’m sorry to report, there will be other folks growling, too. Act nice. The second part of the notice, though, as I was watching the moon go dark and then finally get around to being nice again? You’re up against a rock and hard spot, to thoroughly mangle a metaphor. I’ll agree that the wall in front of you is insurmountable by any other sign. But as a Leo, some rather patient, hard work will eventually yield results. Eventually. Start on the problem, one little piece at time. And when some other signs growls? Just stroke them behind the ears. That usually works to placate them.

Virgo: I’ve got this weird schedule these days. I prefer to work on horoscopes, and other assorted writing ventures, first thing in the morning. As the day wakes up, sipping on coffee, tapping away on the keyboard is the best solace. But in the early morning, too, it’s cool outside. Be a good time to fish. Before the sun hits the halfway mark of the morning, it’s a great time to hit the edge of the river, stand on the dock, maybe, and fish. Even if it’s just for a short time. Trying to balance the creative flow, and the urge for recreational activity, that’s a bit of a challenge. Or a big challenge. The problems in Virgo land aren’t really in Virgo land. It’s not in your chart, but it’s in everyone else’s chart. So reaching that balance point is going to be a little more difficult. I tend to put myself on a timer, when I can. And say to myself, “Okay, hotshot, you’ve got half an hour to fish then it’s back to work.” At the end of that half hour, though, I finally figured out where the fish were holding, just off the point, kind of deep, and what bait was working, chartreuse worm, so I had to allow an extra half hour, just because. Like me, figure that whatever you’re doing? It’s going to take a little longer — whether it’s work or play.

Libra: Quebec, Canada. I had an exchange of e-mail with a client, of French Canadian origins. Then I started to a do a little analysis. Quebec, they speak a different language than the rest of the country. Texas? We speak a different language than the rest of the country. Several dialects, as a matter of fact. Quebec wouldn’t mind separating itself from the rest of the country. Texas? I can’t speak for everyone, but the notion has crossed a mind or two. Other than — I suspect — it being perpetual winter in Canada’s province, I’m not sure that we’re really that much different. Independent, hearty souls. Good food, too. Both places, I’m sure. I was thinking about this recent round of correspondence, and I was looking at the Libra chart. “Can’t we all just get together and be happy?” Typical Libra sentiment, and one that I heartily agree with. Now, the obstacles this week include folks who want to succeed, revolt, or otherwise cause problems. With my example, I hope, I show that there is always common ground. While the planets are stirring up trouble and strife, look for a little common ground. Might help ease our way through some of the problems up ahead.

Scorpio: I caught a fish the other evening. No big deal. He was a “wiggler,” in that he struggled mightily, fought the good fight, and when I was pulling him up by the fishing line, I’d wrapped a loop of line around my hand. As that fish struggled, his weight and the energy exerted behind that weight caused the fishing line to cut into my flesh. I got a tiny cut, that was surprising deep, on the outside of my little finger. Fish was rescued, photographed, and plopped back in the lake. There was blood, my blood, dripping onto the dock. I staunched the flow of blood, added more bait, dropped the line back in the water. Eventually, I got around to tending to my little wound. For such a small fish, barely three pounds, he put up a lot fight. Didn’t want to hold still for a picture, either. He’s back, safe and unharmed. Me, on the other hand, quite literally, I had a minor injury to show for my effort and epic struggle. Tiny cut, just an inconvenience, and I washed it out with antiseptic soap, all better. More or less. What happened was a struggle, a fight, hand-to-fin, and occasionally, the fish gets in a good lick or two. I’d like to think, like Scorpio, I always win. But that fish did get me. With Jupiter and Saturn where they are, I’d like to think that you win, but I’d advise a little caution, too. The other guy, in my case a black bass, they might get in a lick or two, pulling on that monofilament.

Sagittarius: “Oh Kramer, you’ll really like her! Blond hair, tattoos, and she really a wild girl!” that was what one friend was telling me about another friend that I “just have to meet.” Quite the build-up. And me? I life like monk these days, so it was a waste of energy. I tried my old line, “But I like my women like my coffee, espresso on ice: cold and bitter.” Strong, too, I guess, but that should be obvious. I doubt you’re being set-up with a meeting for someone you’re really supposed to like. But you are faced with someone else’s best intentions that might — or might not — have your own — our own — Sagittarius best interests in hand. In heart? Sure, good intentions. But how it turns out? What are the expectations? With Saturn doing what he’s doing to Jupiter, and by extension, to us? I’d be a little more cautious about what other people expect out of us. She really was lovely girl, too, just not exactly my type. Or maybe, I wasn’t her type. But lovely, nonetheless.

Capricorn: Customer service? Ever heard of it? I’m pretty bad about it myself. I have the best of intentions, but some days, like, a girlfriend gives me a cold shoulder, or worse, a cold shot, or maybe, a cold shower? Then the next little girl I was flirting with says something like, “and my boyfriend….” at which point, I know I’m out of the hunt? So I’m having a bad day, and I get the usual customer service question, and I hit the reply button with nasty tome about “figure it out yourself,” and I’ve just alienated a potential customer. Good friends understand when this is happening with me. They tend to completely ignore my irascible and egregious behavior. For the next week, what with your favorite planet — Saturn — doing what he’s doing? Pretend like every call, every point of contact with other people, especially non-Capricorn people? Make believe that this is a customer service situation. Be nice. Play nice with others. Pretend like this is important, too. You will be surprised at how much you gain from simple charity.

Aquarius: I was fishing the other evening, the sun hadn’t quite set yet, but the shadows were long, and the trees here spread shade way out to the middle of the creek. Worm on a little Aberdeen hook, just angling for whatever. I had a nibble, then solid bite, and started to reel it in. It wasn’t a fish, not really, it was little red-ear turtle. Small guy, too. Only about the size of little box turtle. This is an aquatic air-breather, too. I thought they ate vegetation, so what do I know? He had my bait in his mouth, and he stubbornly refused to give it up. I got to thinking about Aquarius, it’s an air sign. But carries water. A tree-hugging neighbor watched, and I got the little turtle up to where he (she?) was dangling from the line. I was going to try and dig the hook out of its mouth, but the turtle, about half a foot in the air, finally let go. He wasn’t hooked. He was just holding on to that worm, tiny turtle jaws clamped tight around the food. Reminded me of Aquarius and that other stuff going on, the Jupiter-Saturn event. Tough little guy. Like an Aquarius. You’re not hooked, either, just like that guy, and you don’t need to hold onto the food, either. How stubborn are you gong to be? Dangling there, over the water, some idiot fisherman’s bait in your mouth? He did let go, swam away, unharmed.

Pisces: Contrary to popular and misguided opinion, I don’t spend all my days fishing. Or talking about fishing. Or doing some activity associated with fishing. There are other activities in life. Routine maintenance is important. Little items like laundry, seeping out the trailer’s floor, optimizing the hard disk, looking after the website’s details, watching girls at Barton Springs Pool, all part of balanced lifestyle. What’s happening in Pisces is that the balance is gone. It seems to have left. What’s the goal? Shoot for that balance point, work, play, observation, rest & relaxation. You’ve got to work it all in. Don’t let one burden, be that play, work or something in between, like little “life maintenance” chores get lopsided. Not now. Shoot for that balance point.

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

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