For the Week starting: 8.9.2007

"Conscience does make cowards of us all."
Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Prince of Denmark (III.i.93)

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leoLeo: Me, sitting in a coffee shop. I watched as a Leo, I know only in a tangential fashion, at best, wandered in. That one Leo, she had a shoulder bag, presumably with laptop computer, as she was looking for available places to sit down and set up. She glanced at me, and didn’t see me so much as a keyboard and screen. Furrowed brow. She was, like a good Leo this week, looking for a place where she could work. Alone. Unhindered. No pesky guy asking questions, like, "What’s your birthday? But life doesn’t always work out nice and even.

In that one coffee shop, there’s about 6 power outlets. And there were already six laptops out and running. So there’s no place unless that one Leo was willing to share. I wonder if it’s dangerous to let electrical currents commingle like that, say, can a Dell, a HP and an Apple all share the same plug? Dangerous stuff, I’m sure. But sharing is what this is all about. Sometimes, the quiet that you seek is only going to be found next to some guy tapping away on a keyboard. Like you.

virVirgo: Marine law isn’t one of my finer points. For that matter, etiquette on the lake and water crafts isn’t one of my finer points. I used to be good, and when I’d hop on a boat, me standing on the dock, I’d mutter, "Permission to come aboard, sir." Naval deal, I think. Should go back to sailing ships and such.

So we were out in the middle of the morning and a brief rain cloud passed overhead. Since we along the shores of fairly upscale district, there seemed to be a number of empty boat slips available. Covered boat slips. We motored into one of them. I cast a few times, watched the water drip into the lake from the gutters, and then, I noticed, that I could step off the boat and out to the edge of the slip’s dock, and I might be able to each a certain spot.

My buddy shook his head. See, as long as the boat was on the surface of the lake, floating, anywhere was fine. But getting out of the craft and going ashore was trespassing. Can’t be breaking the rules. I’m not a big follower of rules, but that morning, it wasn’t my boat and therefore, it wasn’t my call.

Maritime law, common sense, and following the rules. Which is what this is all about. Seems to me, on a rainy morning at home, that a little transgression, for the sake of casting a fishing line, that could be overlooked. But if I’d been caught, then me, my buddy and the boat would’ve been asked to vacate the covered boat slip, back out in the rain. Sort of depends. Not my boat, not my rules. And sometimes, it’s okay to follow the rules even if they seem silly at the time.

libLibra: I’m an old road dog and as such, you cannot teach me any new tricks. The term "road dog" means that I’ve traveled, extensively, as part of my work. Crammed on airplanes, sitting in trains, the occasional empty bus ride home, or just traversing the highways, in one form or another. Like I’ve said, I can’t learn any new tricks about travel. I’ve gotten to a point where I can limit my daily needs to a fairly Spartan existence. I consider it, to a certain extent, living off the land — foraging — to put it bluntly.

Then, too, I depend on the kindness of strangers. I usually do have a plan, but — I’m sure your Libra self will agree — nothing ever seems to go according to the plan. And that’s the way this works, too. Travel, or expeditions, or just a typical daily adventure isn’t going to go the way you thought it should. Plan for contingencies. Plan around possible obstacles. And most important, have a back-up plan. My usual world-weary travel advice includes carrying a non-electric form of mass-market entertainment and information, usually in printed form. A big, fat book. Usually a paperback thriller. Or epic poetry. Or something similar. That’s the first hint, always have something to occupy your time.

The second clue is to be ready to deal with certain problems that are going to arise. This is where foraging comes into play. That’s the other half. Don’t be afraid to expend a little bit of cash at the last moment, to make sure you’ve got what you need.

scoScorpio: Think of the opposite of a confrontation. Think of the diplomatic, nice way to solve a problem. Consider avoiding a situation. As long as there’s massive amount of fixed energy, there’s a good chance that your Scorpio self will be challenged.

Here’s the solution: shut up. Can it. Sit on it. Close your mouth.

There might be a telltale flaring of the nostrils, or your eyes might narrow, but this only a casual observation. It’s not all that bad. Rather than make noise? Instead of demanding a showdown, instead of calling a bluff, even though, you (Scorpio) and me ( know, absolutely, irrevocably, and indubitably, that the Scorpio is correct? Stop. Shut up. Listen. Clamp your mouth shut. If need be? You might grit your teeth a little. What I’m doing is trying to buy you a little bit of time — quiet time — and I’m trying to prevent you from sticking your foot into a your mouth. There are times when a good fight, the good fight, is appropriate. This is not one of those times. Just avoid a knock-down, drag-out confrontation, any way you can.

sagSagittarius: I ran into a client a few days ago, she told me she was sorry, but she wasn’t going to be seeing any more men. Ever. I don’t recall the last reading, but I do believe I was warning her about a guy she was starting to entertain. Wasn’t really a good match, not for her.

Now, jump forward a couple of days, and there she is again, same client, with a silly grin. "I’ve got a date tonight," she explained. Further details included a brief background on the guy, how they met, and the fact that she, my client, had to ask the guy out. Took maybe three minutes to collect this information, with a vague promise to let me know how it goes, and then, a promise that she’ll be getting another reading soon.

I don’t know what the outcome for that particular chart is, not yet, but as general rule, and as an example, from one extreme to the other? That’s a good way to see what’s happening in Sagittarius. From "No Men Ever Again," to "I was forward enough to ask him out," is a pretty big turn around. I am expecting a similar kind of change in signs — from sullen to enthusiastic. Happens this week.

capCapricorn: someone shot me a romance question in the email, and I just pointed to the old romance text, as that held the answer. It was quick "How does Capricorn get along with a (insert sign here)" question, with just some general remarks required. But as I delved deeper into the question spurred more by my own, intellectual curiosity more than anything else, I got to looking at this week’s movement.

New Moon Leo, opposite Neptune (Aquarius). Made me think. Made me wonder a little, about this influence on Capricorn, and how a rose bloom romance was probably occurring, and how, equally transient, that first blush might fade. I’m not saying it isn’t fated, ordained, or promised by the stars, but there’s the other half, when the week is over and the influence of the planets moves on? Might not be as stupendously wonderful as it first appeared.

hile I was looking at romance, that made me think about the other half of the question, what does the rest of the Capricorn chart indicate? I still like the idea that the first, heady rush, whether it’s love, or it’s something else? That might wear off fast. Not a usual Capricorn trait. Not that it matters.

aquAquarius: When I do a phone reading, I tend to pace. I’ll have the handset in one hand, and I usually use a hands-free headset, so I’ll grip the phone with one hand, and I’ll wave my other arm around. A lot. Much arm-waving. I’ll laugh, cry, tell jokes, and otherwise make an attempt to help make a situation better by shedding light on the movement of the planets. I was thinking about this because I was on the phone the other afternoon, waving my arms around. No one was watching. I poured some more coffee (Italian Roast, second cup of the afternoon). Then I went back to gesturing and making a point about a chart.

This kind of animation, to some outside observer, like a person peeking in the trailer’s window? I probably look like madman. I might be, but that’s not the question. It’s a style that works, effectively, for me. Even if I’m just pacing and weaving, I mean, there’s not a lot of room here, and I’ll hit the fan, and I can take about three steps before I have to turn around, but my undivided attention is on whatever analysis my mental faculties are tuned to, i.e., the chart and its interpretation.

I’m not sure how you can work arm-waving and pouring coffee into a tiny cup as methodology to approach this week. I’ve found that it works as it gives a somewhat limited amount of freedom. Which is good. Figure a good way to express yourself. Arm-waving is strictly optional, but you’ll find that it does help, even more so when you’re talking on the phone.

pisPisces: I couldn’t decide which influence was really going to be the strongest, at this time. Hot summer’s eve in Central Texas, where I hang out. We’d wandered down to the local burger joint for a soggy paper bag filled with fried things, and a greasy burger. Almost a tradition. Most of the employees are female, and of that, I’m guessing here, only a few speak English.

After a burger with Bubba, as the night was beginning to go darker and darker, someone inside the burger stand hit the light switch. Neon fizzled on, the outdoor light lit up, and it was daylight, sort of. Now, imagine this as a Pisces, she wandered out with her burger in bag, and flipped open a cell phone, and made a few calls. Her hair was up in a hair net, and she had those delightful dancing Pisces eyes. Greasy apron, as befits the uniform, and she smiled. I was about to say something, and she looked at me, and drawled, "don’t even start with me."

When I we went back around to the front, it was time for the customary soft-serve ice cream cone. Small, in my case, ice cream is white, like me, and I prefer mine with no chocolate dip. Could be me. I made some snickering comment, and Bubba, off to my side, sotto voce suggested that the person behind the counter probably didn’t get the English comment.

So what influence is it? Which one is strongest, the yearn for a simpler time when a simple ice cream cone on hot summer night is all it takes to entertain our Pisces selves? Or is the running commentary? The smile and gentle chiding from that one Pisces girl? Pleasant? Confused? It could be clear, and as a suggestion, there’s a sentimental part of you that needs just such a stop. Or is it a bemused, "Don’t start with me?"

ariAries: We were sitting in a diner, across from a major university, having some early Sunday morning breakfast. There was a long line, a parade of sorts, of young ladies, all in dresses, all carrying what appeared to be shoes in little plastic tote baggies. University town, university’s August rush. The formerly semi-vacant diner was full, returning students and their ilk. The parade, as near as me and the other diners could surmise, was something to do with a sorority initiation, of one kind or another. Summer frocks, all the girls were around the same age, around the same build, and usually in groups of two and three, all covering the same ground, and all with shoes in bags.

Never did quite figure out what it was, but one female did offer that carrying high-heels in hand was a better way to traverse the uneven pavement, and save the heels for whatever fashion was required. But as I got to analyzing the Aries chart, I was thinking about that parade. Maybe they were all getting their toenails painted. Flights of fiction can cover a lot of ground, and that’s what this is about: conjecture.

Without asking, and then discerning the truth of the matter, while we’re sitting there, drinking coffee, it was all pure conjecture. Or pure something. In part, depending on personal experiences, a number of tales could be told. Sorority members had an inside line of the probable source, and it was something to do with the first few days of college, coming up. But unless I had an invitation myself, I doubt I can fully fathom what was really transpiring. Myth, mystery or mundane? Idle conjecture was good, but with no basis in fact? Careful. Remember, Venus is still backwards.

tauTaurus: I stayed up too late the other evening, reading some stupid thriller novel. Actually, the book was quite good, but there was no internal, higher meaning. Good guy who’s less than good, bad guy who was over the top bad, and a cast of thousands. Predictably enough, there was a twist at the end. There were also enough clues to make the whole story hang together, although, a little willing suspension of the laws of physics and human endurance has to be entertained. It’s a novel, better than TV or movies.

However, as much as I enjoyed the book, the story, the plot and action, there was problem from staying up too late to finish the book. Me, I’m a pro, I can easily see that I indulged my Venus influence, and I can equally attribute the concomitant problems, like over-sleeping the next morning, to Venus in her backward state.

The truth of the matter is more simple: I indulged in a guilty pleasure and then I had to pay for that indulgence with my own lack of sleep, the next day. So, I can blame Venus, or the author of the novel, but in truth, the real problem was when I looked at the clock, kept reading, and I didn’t bother with the consequences. All I’m suggesting is that you might want to consider the consequences of staying up too late, or any other action, especially since Miss Venus will trigger a possible override.

gemGemini: Mars slipping through Gemini is pleasant for some, and uncomfortable for others. Mars is akin to a hot frying pan, and out of that heat and grease? Many good (tasty) food items can appear. But anyone who’s ever stood over a frying pan while bacon was sizzling away, that’s a common experience, and when the grease is just at a certain point, some of it will pop. Splatter, and if you’re the cook, standing there, perhaps a tiny bit of hot grease lands on you. It’s not so much of burn that it burns, but it can be a tad uncomfortable. Therein is the homily for the way to deal with this energy, the persistent tug of Mars and the wayward effect of Venus.

I can’t recall the last time I even saw bacon in a frying pan. I’m not sure I even own a frying pan, anymore. I figure the best way to make bacon in the microwave. Fast, less to clean up, tastes great, too. But there is no microwave oven to circumvent the problems of Mars. Or Venus. Mostly Mars, but Venus will affect your tastes. I’d stick to basics, and I’d watch for splatter from Mars. How bad can it be? Only as bad you let the planets fry you.

canCancer: I spent fully a third of my life living along the lines of a scholastic year. It wasn’t until just recently that I got out of the mindset that thought along the lines of "Fall Semester, Xmas Break, Spring Semester, Spring Break, Summer School." Then there’s this week, the "back-to-school" time.

Varies from locale to locale, but the idea is that this is time to assess to what worked, what didn’t work, and how to proceed. This next week, complete with a new moon in the sign after yours, is a time to stop and take inventory.

Do you need to stock up on #2 Pencils? Notebook paper? Ball-point pens? According the last advertising flyer I saw, a handy calculator is called for — and that calculator probably has more computational ability than my first computer. So this is the time to get ready for the rest of the fall. It’s a back-to-school sale for Cancer. Time to get ready. Time to lay in supplies that might be needed for the upcoming seasons. Time to start thinking about winter coats and #2 pencils. And calculators.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at

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