For the Week starting: 2.15.2007

For the Week starting: 2.15.2007

"Let not winter’s ragged hand deface
In thy summer."
Shakespeare’s Sonnet VI, lines 1-2

aquAquarius: I am saying that Mercury is backwards and backwards in such way as to truly befuddle the Aquarian mind. Which, I must add, is a marvelous mind, as far as I can see. But that darling little Aquarian mind is getting confused over issues that really aren’t too important. There’s also an alignment between Neptune and Saturn, and that’s just going to make this worse. Or better, only, the better part doesn’t arrive soon enough. Therein is our Aquarius riddle, how can you be right, and wrong, at the same time?

coYou’re actually quite right, only, the pernicious little communication planet is making a persistent effort to staunch the flow of correct information from Aquarius thought pattern, out to the so-called "real world," whatever that might be. Top all this off with a few other pointers, like Mars, headed your way, and you’re stuck. One house I’ve stayed at, in this one place, in the middle of the home, there’s a steel I-beam, or some other similar structural device. In the middle of the room, cell phones drop coverage.

Nothing can punch through. Perhaps it’s situated between two cells, or maybe, the previous occupant had it insulated to prevent eavesdropping. Who knows? Who cares? When I’m staying there, I avoid trying to get my phone, or any phone that’s not wired to a port, to work. You’re like being stuck in that one spot in the house.

pisPisces: That one spot in the house where the dog always tends to take care of business, when he’s left behind for too long? One day, your Pisces self sees an ad for something that promises to permanently relieve you of that problem. Do you believe the hype? No. Do you try the product anyway? Sure. But see: that dog, like the Pisces, knows when someone is trying to fool him or her. Normal tricks don’t work on a clever Pisces, not usually. Not ever, in some cases. That’s the problem, too, as what kind of hype usually works on another sign doesn’t work on you.

The Pisces birthdays are set by now, and the first them are starting to roll up before this scope rolls over. That’s good. Can be great, even. But there’s going to be another challenge, like that one spot on the carpet that the dog likes. This is gradually changing, too, but remember that Mercury is in apparent backward motion, and as such, there are little reminders that communications and associated troubles, are going to occur, like that spot on the carpet, as the Sun moves in the tropical zodiac sign of Pisces.

ariAries: As the Sun moves in the tropical zodiac sign of Pisces, merely a location in the sky, the Aries corner of the charts looks as if it should be getting ready. Before the next scope is posted, that gives us a couple of day, Venus will creep, and I mean slowly advance with stealth, into Aries. Venus, now she’s our friend, see? So she’s going to be bringing good luck, good cheer, and a point where everyone will start to feel a little better. As opposed to me, and I’ll just be bitter, but never mind that now.

coHowever, as noted last week, there’s still a weird quality to the Mercury retrograde pattern. There’s still that, to be sure. But balance that with the advent of Venus, and see if there isn’t a point, some place in the middle, where there’s a degree of happiness. A content Aries is a good Aries, and all Aries (reading this) are good Aries. Settle down, watch Mercury’s madness affect the people around you, and enjoy the show.

tauTaurus: Watch Mercury’s madness affect the people around you, and don’t take the bait. Pretty simple for the Taurus, as this is a great time for patient and articulate observations. It’s not exactly a time for action, even though Mars does act to spur you on. Mars isn’t all about war, either, there’s also a point wherein Mars is about healing.

Perhaps that’s the real message — listen up, lighten up, and watch.

There’s a chance to heal up some old problems, I’m thinking about one fishing buddy I horribly offended. Ran into him the other day, and while all the past problems are not completely behind us, we are getting along in more amicable manner. Civil, almost polite and kind. In following the Taurus advice, though, I didn’t just charge straight into what would turn into another battle and more wounded pride. I took it easy, watched and waited. Bided my time and said something nice. A friendly nod, a smile, and not too much talking. Which, for me, can be a difficult proposition. However, the simple courtesy worked. Worked like a charm.

gemGemini: "Worked like a charm, did it? Maybe it worked for you, but Mercury is retrograde and my Gemini self — selves — are none too pleased with the way things are going now!"

Just another typical Gemini response. And, you know, I can’t do anything about the current state of the littlest planet. However, there is a simple solution. Not that a simple solution would affect a Gemini, nor, for that matter, would an easy way out be a good idea for a Gemini, not when there’s a chance to complicate the problem, but a simple solution will help. Try it, just try this time, see if it works?

coThe simple solution is a pen and paper. Or pencil and paper. Something non-computer oriented. I even have archaic stylus, and one quill pen, something like that could work, only, I should warn you, the "dipping the quill in the ink" thing gets pretty messy. Maybe pencil is better. So anyway, the point is to list the problems, and then look at the list itself. What hare problem that you can deal with at this very moment? What are problems you can’t deal with at this moment? What are longer-term issues that don’t need your attention? What can you do to the first item on that list, up near the top, that is actually an item that you can take action on? That’s where to start. It can be quite simple, my Gemini list starts with, "Buy more live bait."

canCancer: Buy more live bait? Whatever for, don’t you have enough? Seems like, doesn’t matter if I’m fishing on a lake or at the coast, the old bait bucket usually comes up short when I need it the most. Shrimp, mullet, minnows, or just plain old earthworms (Canadian nightcrawlers are best), seems like there’s always one more fish to try and catch — after I run out of bait.

Seems like there’s a universal law that should govern such situations, wherein the fish and the bait run out at the same time, not one before the other. Which is going to beg another question from the Cancer section, an astute judge of human behavior, "Isn’t it better to have no bait and fish, rather than to have no fish and bait?" Matter of degrees, and that’s what we’re playing with as far as this whole Mercury and live bait experiment is going on. But let’s no get to carried away with the analogy, are you familiar with live bait and what happens when it goes bad? It’s certainly not a pretty image, and there’s a noxious side-effect: the aroma. Watch out for it. I’m reminded of sign up in coastal fishing retreat, "No live bait in the rooms, please." It’s up in a motel that I tend to favor, down on the coast.

leoLeo: A motel I tend to favor, down on the coast? Attached to the hotel, well, not really attached, but just out the back door, there’s a fishing pier. I’ve had some good times, just idly fishing off that one pier.

While not, strictly speaking, a major metropolitan center, high-speed net access and more traditional cell service is available. Usually. I like the ground floor of the motel since I can walk out the back door and fish. In the rooms that face the bay, on the ground floor, I get no phone coverage for my "cell" phone. Which, considering that I’m sort of "on vacation" when I’m there, it’s not a bad deal, not at all.

coStep outside to the fishing dock, and there’s plenty of coverage for everything. You feel a little like I do, when I’m there in that motel room, cut off from the most common form of communication; however, just step outside? Works fine, under a cold February afternoon sky, clouds lowered overhead.

virVirgo: Under a cold February afternoon sky, clouds lowered overhead, I found a perfect cup of coffee downtown, about a mile from here. I wandered in, the guy running the machine glanced up at me from under the bill of a trendy cap, "Double espresso? Or a double cappuccino?" he asked. Cold outside, and I thought for half a beat, "Cappuccino," I decided. I tend to get mine to go, as I’m on a mission in the afternoon, had someone to meet someplace for a reading. But what I got was one of the most perfect — Virgo perfect — cappuccinos ever made.

Two shots of espresso, straight into the cup, then milk foam on top, and the care the barista used when he poured it, had a perfect head, edged with the espresso, a perfect, and I’ve seen a lot, a Virgo-perfect expression of the barista’s art. The second guy behind the counter whistled low, "I’d give that an A plus." I concurred, noting its perfect constancy, the edge of the foam turning the color of coffee. "Nah, it’s just a B."

Typical Virgo, nothing is quite good enough. There’s that sense, and I’m sure you’ll turn in a perfect Virgo display of art, or a piece of work that’s really quite a piece of work, and everyone will be amazed. Except the Mercury driven voice in the back of the Virgo mind, "I could do better — I’ve seen better." Listen to us, your adoring fans, it’s really quite good. Like that perfect cup of coffee.

libLibra: Like that perfect cup of coffee, first thing in the morning, there’s a chance to beat the odds with this little mercurial Mercury event occurring. A perfect cup of coffee is a pleasure to be enjoyed and savored. Can’t just pour it down the gullet, pick up, kick up and go, the coffee has to be tasted. There’s a little ritual that goes with that first cup in the morning, the aroma floating through the domicile, the way that aroma punctuates the morning’s stillness. A finger looped through the favorite coffee mug’s handle, the ritual with making (or buying) the coffee, the warm cup, the smell. Perhaps you tip a little packet of sugar (or sweetener) into the mix. Maybe not. Maybe it’s a fluffy coffee-based drink with more milk and foam than coffee. Maybe it’s just a tiny shot of espresso.

coTo thoroughly enjoy this experience, though, it requires that your kindly Libra self slow down and pause. Stop. Take time to savor the moment. Venus is headed opposite you. Ain’t there yet. Mars is still kicking in Capricorn. And Mercury is still backwards in Pisces. Instead of the big deals, instead of looking for some grand action that might — or might not — materialize, the secret to escaping the mayhem is to pause. Pause long enough to enjoy the moment, whatever it is.

scoScorpio: Enjoy the moment, whatever it is. My own sense of the absurd in our modern life has served me well. Might do you well to tune into my sense of humor, such as it is, to help ease your fine Scorpio way through the next couple of days. It’s less about a belly laugh, and more, a lot more, about a quiet smirk.

Mercury does that. Between Mercury’s influence, backwards where he is, and Venus just headed towards Aries, forwards, she is, and Mars, yes, Mr. Mars is important to a Scorpio. Mars is really what’s going to push your funny bone. That’s the secret, see, Mr. Mars wants you tell everyone, to enjoy that big laugh. And I’m not saying you shouldn’t have a good, little laugh yourself, but I would suggest that you tone down that impulse to tell just everyone what the joke is. You don’t need to cut the whole world in on your little amusement. Frankly, some less enlightened people just won’t get it.

Like I suggested, you’re tuned to my brand of "sense of the absurd" better than everyone else. Therein is the good news, but that’s also the problem, too, because you have a strong desire to right the injustice, and an almost overwhelming feeling that you’re supposed to broadcast this missive. Don’t. It’s walking on dangerous ground to tell a Scorpio to shut up, but in effect, that’s what I’m doing. However, like I originally postulated, a quiet smirk? That will work well. We’ll enjoy a laugh together, you and me.

sagSagittarius: We’ll enjoy a laugh together, you and me. On the hike and bike trail, or, to me, the trail, I was listening to some music. You have to know, don’t you? U2, the album? War. Released in March of 1983, to be exact. Not that it matters, but with Mercury where he is, a certain amount of exactitude is important. I watched, now, don’t misunderstand this point, at my station in life, I’m a walker, not a runner, but I have run, can run, and will run, when and if, the situation presents itself. Anyway, I was being paced by a pair of young girls, I’m imagining, college students. Only two or three universities here, could be anyone of them, but good money’s on UT. There’s a certain look, a style, which comes from that area of town. Can’t put my finger on it, more of a feeling.

coSo anyway, the song was playing in earphones, and I could only make a portion of the conversation, and I didn’t record any of it, because, it didn’t matter, not to me. Eventually, the two young females decided to run rather than walk. Maybe my fat backside was bothering them, perhaps I was humming to the music or singing about Sunday Bloody Sunday. I realized that the music was probably older than the girls.

The causes, the fights, the protests, again, mired in history that might not be a cause anymore. One of the girls was a runner. She moved and flowed gracefully, like an animal. The other girl was less elegant, and the way her feet lifted and fell, it showed she wasn’t a runner. At all. She was landing on her heels and then rolling forward to push off, as if the running itself was an unnatural event. Wouldn’t have been obvious to casual observer, but I watch for the little clues. The runner, though, she was flowing. Then she missed step on a pebble on the trail, although, she did catch herself graceful and they kept on plodding into the distance. The runner-girl, the grace and fluid motion, then the trip, then moving forward? Sagittarius? Sure, it fits. We’ll all hit a Mercury pebble or two, the trick is to keep going.

capCapricorn: The trick is to keep going and going, spurred forward by Mars. Yes, it’s still a Mars thing, and there’s a little tweak that comes from Mr. Mars, although, from what I know — or don’t know — about human behavior, I’ll suggest that most folks assume it’s Mercury. A communication problem, a point and place where a comment is misinterpreted, a passing point that someone latches onto.

Blaming the planets for our foibles is not what this is all about. Working with what happens, that’s the clue. It’s all about how you choose to react when someone quotes a point you made, someone quotes your words back at your Capricorn self, only, that other person is taking the point entirely out of context. Now, when this happens to me, I don’t let it bother me. I’ve often said, "Don’t steal my material," but my mock-stern voice usually gives away my stance. But my mock-stern voice, and your steely-eyed Capricorn gaze are not the same thing.

So I’m back to that point, that place where the strange collusion between Mars and Venus is setting you up for misinterpreted Capricorn messages. I’m not saying that it’s Mercury’s fault, but I am saying.

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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