Fishing Guide to the Stars
by Kramer Wetzel
(c) 2005, 2006 by Kramer Wetzel for astrofish.net
For the Week starting: 8.17.2006
“Thou liest, thou shag-eared villain!”
From Shakespeare’s Scottish Play, Act IV, scene ii, line 82
Aries: “You mention Mars again, and I’m going to smack you upside the head, boy.” Aries client. Didn’t like what I had to say about Mars and its effect on dear Aries. As far as smacking me upside the head? All I can suggest is that you take a number, there’s a large number of folks in line — ahead of you — for the “smacking Mr. Astrologer guy upside the head” part. As an idea, though, take some of that Mars-inspired “smacking me up side the head” energy and turn it around. No, don’t hit yourself. Unless it’s a “I should’ve thought of that before” type of smack. And that’s more an open palm to the forehead gesture, not what you would like to do to me. If I can get you to pause from this violent streak, we can make some serious progress here. There’s a single situation that’s got you befuddled. Work with me here, it’s an issue that’s confounded you for the last couple of months. No way out, right? Wrong. If you’d look at it from a different angle, perhaps one provided by Mars, you could see a new solution to an old problem. And maybe, just maybe, I won’t get beat up again.
Taurus: I’ve gotten so used to automated banking that I don’t think I’ve set foot in a bank for years. No, that’s not true, when I have to deposit large sums of cash, I tend to walk into the bank. But that doesn’t happen nearly often enough. I had a weird bank draft, money order kind of check, only, it wasn’t a check, it was something else. Client payment. Substantial sum. I just deposited it in the automated teller machine and let it go. I got a note from the bank, then a few days later, I got the draft back in the mail. I had to walk it down to a live teller and redo the deposit. In the meantime, a few checks that were written against that draft hit, and, predictable enough, bounced. I could’ve gotten all kinds of pissed off at the bank, but in the long run, I’ve gotten good service, good value for paltry service charge, and I couldn’t really blame them. I was at fault for not reading — and adhering to — the fine print.
Gemini: It’s a tiny scene from life in a hectic city. Town. I’m not sure any of the cities in central Texas really can qualify for the term “city” other than by acreage or population. Anyway, during rush hour one afternoon, I noticed something that I found a little jarring to my finely tuned sense of aesthetics. Rush hour, heat of the afternoon, temperature was probably over a 100, and there was a young lady in a flowing dress, driving a fairly decent, rapid-looking, mean-sounding motorcycle. Just weird. I would expect a woman on a motorcycle, that’s not uncommon. Check out “babes on bikes,” or whatever. But I wouldn’t expect a woman in a dress, commuting, or so it looked, to and from an office job, on a scooter like that. At least one Gemini will assure me that this is all normal. That’s the clue, too, what’s normal in Gemini land might not be normal to some other sign. I can make up a number of stories that fit the scenario, but what it boils down to is that all I had one was one glimpse in rush hour. She’s a racer, and that’s her weekend ride, the car’s in the shop. The scooter gets better mileage. The AC is out on the car. She might just prefer it, although, I would tend to find a dress as an obstacle for riding fast motorcycles. But I’m not a Gemini. Call it anyway you want, just remember, what’s normal to you might not be so normal to the rest of us.
Cancer: Shakespeare’s Richard III, perhaps one of the greatest fictional bad guys ever, along with whatshisname from that Scottish Play. Richard III has a fan club. It’s a group of historically minded folks who are out to prove that the fictional Richard III, based almost solely on Shakespeare’s play, distorted the truth. As it turns out, the real Richard III probably wasn’t a hunchbacked lady killer. But sometimes fiction is more pervasive than truth. It’s a textbook case of how narrative “historical” fiction almost rewrote history. Next week, the sun heads on into Virgo. When that happens, you’re ability to spin fabulist yarns out of the air is increased. But not unlike one of my buddies, I’m not saying his name is Bubba, but not unlike him, some of those yarns you’re spinning might not be historically accurate. Not that it matters, either. Here’s the problem: tell a tale that’s a little too tall, a little improbable? A little too far-fetched? Such a tale might come back on you and get debunked. Not that it’s too bad, either, but I can save you the ridicule. In a simpler way of expressing it? Shakespeare got away with it. Bubba didn’t. If I were more Cancer-like? I’d hold off on the tall tales that might, or might not, have a shred of truth in them.
Leo: I got badly sunburned the other week, and I guess I didn’t treat it correctly. I’m of the “burn and peel” variety, happens about once every summer, and this one came along kind of late, or so it seemed. I’d hiked my shorts up, exposing my upper thighs, and that resulted in adding more color but it also means that now, as I sit here, there are great, huge, I’m talking about square inches, of flesh, gently peeling off. It’s matter of regeneration, getting rid of the old, dead layer, so that the new skin can grow back, stronger, better color, and so on. The problem is I tend to pick a little, you know, pick at it some? So there’s this little collection of dead skin, around the desk chair. The cat looked at me, and wondered if I understood why fur and licking herself was a better idea, especially now. “Stupid hairless ones,” I’m sure she’s thinking. The process, whether it’s just peeling off a layer of my skin, or shedding a layer of summer fur, though, all of this is appropriate for Leo. It’s about shedding unwanted, useless, or otherwise old and out-of-date material. Like a layer of skin.
Virgo: As much as anything, the inspiration comes from a number of Virgo folks. I can’t recall all the details of the setting, but I watched as a tech pulled on a pair of latex gloves to work on computer. Wasn’t on TV (I still don’t own one), so it wasn’t on TV. Real life scene, such as it is. I probably giggled when I saw the tech pull on the gloves to handle offending keyboard. As it is, the keyboard is one of the greatest places to breed infection and collect other crap. Not that I would know anything about sitting down with food in one hand, idly typing away with the other, watching crumbs and BBQ collect on the keys. I don’t know, my notes are a little Spartan, but I’m guessing that the tech with the latex gloves was a Virgo, and the keyboard was something that was brought in for troubled maintenance. With Mars and the Moon where they are, I’m suggesting that, just like my memory, you grab a pair of latex gloves before you sit down to handle something. The object, the problem, probably isn’t really infected, but like a good birthday Virgo, it better to err on the safe side.
Libra: “Oh, these jeans are too tight,” she said. It was a dear little Libra friend. She spun around. I couldn’t help myself, “And this is a problem how?” It’s about how something fits you, and how you perceive that the fit might not be quite right. But from a perspective, like a male perspective, or just any other interested outside party, this is less of problem than you realize. What might be a cause of discomfort in your Libra life might really be a cause for some celebration in another person’s life. It could be a simple, slightly prurient type of interest. It could be something else. It’s not about how you see a problematic situation, it’s more about how the rest of us see that supposed problem. Besides, as it is a well-documented fact, I’m sure that the offending jeans really do look pretty good. Your Libra self with have plenty of other people — besides myself — who will make appreciative noises.
Scorpio: I ran into a neighbor, figuratively speaking, in the laundry room. I was shoving quarters into he laundry machine. “Kramer, my man, what’s up.” Same neighbor, one evening, was sitting out by the river’s edge, and he watched — and was suitably impressed with my manly prowess — as I reeled in a fish on the first cast (really the third cast). So perceive that there’s some kind of a bond here. However, this one guy, when I’ve encountered him on his way to or from work, downtown, he ignores me. Only in the dark will he be friendly. To me. I asked why I don’t even get a nod downtown, and he claimed he didn’t recall ever seeing me. Part of that is a sungleness of purpose, part of that is the Scorpio focus. And all of that, ignoring me in broad daylight, in a public place, when he has a lot weighing on his mind? Part of that, I’ll guess is the Scorpio way of tending to what’s important at the moment. In a casual setting, like under the evening’s stars, me with a fishing pole in hand? That’s a good time for social interaction. While he’s busily moving from one place to another? No need to waste time worrying about some guy moving at a casual pace, other than to try and avoid me on the sidewalk. This single-minded sense of purpose? Scorpio: focus. Like my neighbor, save pleasant distractions for the correct time.
Sagittarius: There’s the local version, predominate in much of my home country, the Mexican Blackbird. The grackle. The girl grackles are kind of a dusty brown, and only the males have the shiny black feathers. The girls do all the work, so it seems. The grackles, the local version, are scavengers of a high order. I’ve seen the grackles, literally, steal food from an outdoor restaurant. Swoop in and filch some chips. I’ve seen them dig through open dumpsters and watched as the birds have taken off with bits and pieces of trash — and meals. Hearty little survivors. I was on the trail, and under the bat bridge, and there was a grackle, making off with the carcass of a small bat. It’s all about making the best of a given situation. I’m not suggesting that dumpsters behind restaurants are a good place to fish for food, but be aware that there will be an opportunity, like that one dusky female, flying off with a very small (dead) rodent, to make the most of some slightly unfortunate situation. It’s not like there’s any shortage of chips, or any shortage of bats, and for that matter, there’s certainly no shortage of grackles, either, and it’s the scavenger’s mind that I’m suggesting we adopt. There’s a little bit of scavenging that can help.
Capricorn: The planets did align for Capricorn, “and much madcap hilarity did ensue.” Got two areas that seem to be doing quite well, for the Capricorn’s sky. As might be expected, I’ve got one Cap friend who’s going to complain. But that doesn’t stop this benevolent push occurring with the Cap slice of the heavens. It’s a good push, but you’ve got to do something to make it work. Since there’s a dual influence, pick two disparate issues, two areas to look at. Perhaps one is a social scene and maybe the other? An issue at work? Sure. What it amounts to, either way, is that both types of energy need to be engaged. Easiest way to do that? Show up a little early for work one day. Or all week. Or stay a little later. Then, that “social” aspect? That will take care of itself,, but when you’re presented with an opportunity? Take it. Any opening is just that, a place, a chance to make a connection. Could be as simple as standing in line at the grocery store, too.
Aquarius: I had a meeting, downtown, with a client. She’s just about as cute as a can be, a slim wisp of a child, with those waif-like big eyes. Issue? Boyfriend. Now, in a previous encounter with this friend, the problem had been that the boyfriend wasn’t serious enough. He wanted to date other people, or not hurry into a long-term, committed relationship. This time was different. This meeting was about the same boyfriend, and what he wanted was a serious, lets-move-in-together shift in the relationship. Both situations caused panic in that little lass’s eyes. Careful what you wish for, especially under the twin influence of Saturn and Mars — and throw in some Venus — you might just get exactly what you think you wanted. And that’s the problem.
Pisces: I was up and by the edge of the river, early one morning. Last week? Week before? Some time like that. I’d grabbed a pole, and I was patiently doing a little research in the early morning habits of certain of fishy friends, specifically, their eating habits. I got a bite. Good research and observation, I’d say. I caught another future friend, a little bass, about a foot long, and after I fetched him up to the shoreline, unhooked him from my testing apparatus, I reached down for my phone with its camera, to get a quick bit of visual evidence that I had, indeed, landed a fish. Early morning, remember? So I reached down and the holster was empty. The phone was sitting on the charger, on my desk, in my trailer. I shrugged, let my friend go, and wandered back home to make note of what works and what doesn’t work, how it’s awkward to brag about a fish if I don’t have a visual record. He didn’t get away, I did catch him, but with no evidence, it’s kind of hard to brag about it. Before you leave the house, or the trailer, and before you catch a good one, which I’m sure you will, make sure you have all the appliances that you might need. Like a phone with camera, just to make sure that there is visual evidence. Make sure your holster isn’t empty.
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copyright (c) 2005, 2006 Kramer Wetzel, for astrofish.net
