Fishing Guide to the Stars 4.1.2010

“I do think it is their husbands’ fault
If wives do fall.”
Shakespeare’s Othello [IViii.89]

Fishing Guide to the Stars
For the week starting: 4.1.2010

You go with that one and let me know how that works out. I should mention, it is a tragedy.

Orson Wells worked on Othello from 1948 to 1952, taking time to make money-making movies in order to fund Othello.

Aries: For several years, literally, I spent time scouring sporting-goods stores, fishing specialty shops, big name-brand stores, just about every “fishing pole” purchase avenue I could find. Everything but the manufacturer’s warehouse itself. To no avail. I was looking for a very specific kind of pole, a two-piece, 6-foot trigger-handle graphite &c.

To me, it’s a “car pole,” one that fits inside the cab of a buddy’s truck with ease. One that can be disassembled and tossed in the back seat of a girlfriend’s car. Handy pole to have around. Size, length, really, was what was so important because I also matched that pole to a certain lake, and certain species of fish, at that certain lake — the perfect combination, and since it worked one place so well? Probably could use it elsewhere. Weird, like that. I kept looking, hoping, I mean, I had a five and half foot pole, and a seven foot pole, but one’s too short and the other is too long, and I just needed that perfect car pole.

Turns out, years later, I discovered that my efforts were useless. They don’t make a two-piece 6-footer. Did I waste all my time vainly searching for a non-existent pole? Sometimes, what we’re looking for? Sometimes, it’s less about the getting and more about the how we get there. Happy birthday.

Taurus: I’ve got a years’ old iPod. Battery is a bit iffy on this one. Old “mini” iPod. Holds more music than battery life. Works well when I just leave it plugged into a stereo and wall plug adaptor. The other afternoon, I was listening to it, working on the computer and the wall plug came off the bottom of the iPod. I don’t know how, maybe I pulled it out before leaving. I just found out — when quite suddenly — the music stopped.

Battery life. Shelf life. Disposable electronics that I refuse to dispose of. No gradually decreasing audio, no song slowing down, in the middle of a blazing guitar solo? Suddenly nothing. It’s an abrupt transition, and I wonder if it’s a transition at all. More like Full-on blazing guitar and fretwork, then, suddenly, nothing.

I looked over and the iPod was dead. I knew what the problem was, and I stopped what I was working on to plug in the electronics and scroll back to a shuffle setting. I didn’t feel like digging through all the music to find that one song again, although, I’d like to hear it again. I have to wait until the shuffle setting brings it back.

This is an example of Taurus — next few days. It’s not a big deal, it’s a little deal. It’s not a big interruption, it’s a little one. It’s not more than a blip on the screen. A single spot of trouble. It’s not a big problem, but for a few moments, I was horribly inconvenienced. Around here? I got no one to blame but myself.

Gemini: There’s a serious challenge for Gemini, for the coming few days. How to assert yourself, how to make sure that you’re heard without dominating the conversation. Without talking over people, how do you make sure that you are established? Make a point without beating the other person? Beating, either literally or figuratively.

I watched, it was a coffee shop in Vegas, couple of years ago. I watched while a couple — NY, NJ, Upper East Coast accents — talked at each other. They were both talking, loudly, at each other, at the same time. The woman’s voice was rising, just a little in volume, as she stressed some point to make sure, even though the guy, he was talking, too, just to make sure she was heard.

That’s an example of how NOT TO communicate, under this influence. While it illustrated the “making yourself heard” point, it misses the idea of asserting yourself without talking over the person listening. If you can, act interested. Don’t talk over, yelling, unless called for, that just doesn’t work, either. There’s a way to make yourself heard without talking over other folks. You can make your point, but the real idea? Dominate without dominating. Invites a whole different level of participation to the conversation.

Cancer: Look out for the Chupacabra! Until I moved a little further south, I didn’t realize what a big impact the pseudo-sciences had on the local population. There are sworn believers. Folks in the outlying countryside swear up and down, holy oaths, that they’ve seen Chupacabras — the “goat sucker” from mythology.

So far, no one’s produced anything but a mangy coyote. Rumors, stories, and myths. Lots of myths. I’ve watched a couple of shows, and so far, no one has produced an ounce of real evidence. Which doesn’t stop the mania and the websites, and the claims.

So the warning, for Cancer, watch out for the Chupacabra. Got it? Real, imagined, myth? Or some kind of vermin that might try and suck all the life out of your Cancer body. I’m just suggesting that you’re a good target these days. Watch out for a Chupacabra.

Leo: Picking the right Moon Sign for an event is part of what I do. I was stuck waiting, about ten days ago, patiently awaiting the Moon’s location to shift, just a little, so I could get started on a new project. I pay attention to this material, and I make the best use of what’s there.

It’s a waiting game, watching the astrological clock tick over, waiting on that astrological second hand to sweep into position. I almost got frustrated, but I reminded myself, I had nothing to lose by waiting.

Eventually, I was dead-reckoning it at first, but eventually, I looked it up in the book, then double-checked that against my software. I arrived a conclusion I didn’t like, but I had to wait until the evening for the Moon to get to a proper trigger point.

No use in doing this too early, results are nil. So take this easy, it’s like me, waiting for a precise time, and you know, we can’t hurry this. Doesn’t hurt, like me, to double and triple check the timing.

Virgo: Questions I get? “You’re from Austin, I saw this Dell Computer in a pawn shop, should I buy it?” While I enjoy pawn shopping? While I like browsing around to see what’s been hocked? I tend to stay away from big purchases there. Or buying pawn shops. What might’ve been the real question. Occasionally, there will be good deals.

In Austin? South Side Pawn? Great source for band speakers. Those big boxes, for the guitar player? Amplifier and so forth? Good source for that kind of material. I like the road-weary cases, equipment that’s been tossed in the back of the band’s van, and totted around the countryside, loaded and unloaded time and again. The stories they could tell, huh.

Some items are good deals in pawn shops. I know about antique Apple computers, and I could help make qualified purchases, even in a pawn shop, on those, for example. But Dell computer? In a pawn shop? I’m probably not the right guy to ask. Besides, the logic, as a good Virgo will see, isn’t quite right, Austin, therefore I know about Dell computers?

You’re either going to get a question like that, or worse, you might be asking a question like that. If you’re asking? Think before you ask. Whoever said, “There are no dumb questions?”

Libra: “How was your espresso?” Thus started a conversation with a Libra. I nodded and asked where the beans came from. “They’re from a friend of mine, here in town, runs his own roaster,” the Libra said. He had intriguing art, a tattoo of a commercial jetliner, clearly visible on his arm. I asked what his birthday was, as, despite copious artwork, there were no clues.

Frequently an astrological glyph is worked into the artwork, good clue for me. Makes me seem spooky, guessing a sign. But there were no clues in his artwork. Had to ask. The jetliner, I couldn’t tell, looked kind of like a Boeing, but, as it turned out, the lad had traveled a great deal, and it was a French brand of airplane. I don’t recall why he had it.

The Libra listed the local roaster as a friend, and yet, the kid had only been in town for a few months. Part of that is normal, pedestrian Libra talk. Everyone’s a “friend” until proven otherwise. What I’d watch for? I was thinking about that simple discussion with one Libra, and his view that everyone was a “friend” at first. Maybe I’d exercise little more caution, perhaps a slightly cynical tone would help. Just for now.

Scorpio: I’m a big fan of regional food. Locally, “piloncillo” is available in grocery stores. Even some chains carry it now. It’s a relatively unrefined form of sugar, or, the way I’d like to think about it? It’s Mexican Brown Sugar. The name is from the way the stuff look, comes in little cones. Hard cones. It’s a mold of sugar cane juice that’s packaged and labelled for distribution.

Love the stuff, except it’s kind of hard to work with. Like a Scorpio? Some cooks hate it. It’s not like normal brown sugar, either, as the cones have to be grated or chopped, or ground in one fashion or another. The sugar, use like regular sugar, it’s not flat. Its taste varies from cone to cone. Some of them are more caramel in flavor, some have a smokey essence, while others are earthy. Good stuff for any recipe that uses sugar, and since it’s not refined? Supposedly, this kind of sugar is better for the body. Easier to ingest. Or something.

It’s like Brown Sugar, only it’s not. I was thinking of something sweet and off-beat for Scorpio, and that’s what I thought of, sweet, a little off-beat, and — price it out — I pay pennies for a cone, usually less than fifty cents — cost effective sugars that’s just a little wild and unrefined. You could use that.

Sagittarius: Ever pick up a can of “fresh squeezed” orange juice? Ever wonder what was really in that, “Fresh squeezed” orange juice? Look at the ingredients, on the bottom, in the fine print. That was pulped oranges, probably stale, pulped oranges, and then, it was modified. Usually sugars, chemicals, eleven herbs and some spices, too. All goes into that fresh squeezed taste. Not really that fresh.

I used to joke, “Fresh squeezed, right out of a can.” Image that went with that comment was me, squeezing an old-styled can of orange juice, watching the frozen, orange pulp plop into a pitcher. “Just add water!” I was swigging on a bottle of “fresh, organic, no preservatives” juice. Probably really was all natural since it tasted like warmed-over kitty litter. Or worse. Green goo, what I called it. Probably won’t be drinking it again, as it left my mouth with a weird color and strange taste.

Me? I’m going back to the “fresh squeezed” out-of-a-can orange juice that has more man-made stuff than natural ingredients. Scientifically designed to please. Whatever works, huh.

We’re face-to-face with a momentous decisions. Me? In Sagittarius? What we can do is drink the canned orange juice. It’s not the most healthy alternative. It might not be the best stuff, but, and it’s a big “but,” it’s what we’re familiar with. Next few days? Familiarity wins over what the brain trust might think.

Capricorn: We’ve had a couple of those long, hard sunny days that herald a hot summer. I’ve enjoyed these afternoons, as I live in a place that sparks continuous wonder and amusement. A meandering footpath leads me into exotic places — maybe not wild and extravagant by all standards, but there’s pretty bizarre stuff, to me.

The “Mexican Modern” style utilizes bold, bright colors, with some umber and ochre to tone it down, or, perhaps, to add an earthen hue. I’m not sure. Gold, green, red, purple, all bright colors figures predominately in the style. I like it. Surrounded by this inspires wonder. Amazement.

This isn’t about looking very far away, this is about looking at what’s right underfoot. In the Capricorn world. You have to dig a little as the Moon’s phase is against us, but still, dig. See if there isn’t something — locally — that inspires you. Doesn’t have to be a big item. Doesn’t have to be a large inspiration, could be something as simple as calendar art. Could be a lot more complicated, like the apparent random choice of colors in a building’s painting scheme. If there was a painting scheme. Or the graffiti that isn’t graffiti, but street art as a sign.

Use of hues, variations on themes, interplay of light and color. Inspired. Only deal with this we got? Got to dig for it. You’re Capricorn, shouldn’t bother you.

Aquarius: I couldn’t make out what the server’s artwork, on her forearm, I couldn’t quite make it out. She flew by, delivering a plate of food. She cruised by a second time, and all I could see was “Art.” Judging by the ink and exposed flesh, I was sure, she was an art student of some kind. She passed by again, with a pot of coffee.

“Art Choke.” There was an image underneath the scroll, but I couldn’t make it out. She was in rush, and I was leisurely dining. Amused, perhaps, by her artwork, but that was about it. Ink — tattoo ink — fascinates me. Permanent marks, allowing to a tribal, religious, something, kind of fealty. Gangs, clubs, hobbies. Tribes. As we paid and prepared to leave, the Art (symbol) Choke server was in the open kitchen. I leaned in, looked again, and smiled broadly. Art (something) Choke. Underneath? In prison style, but probably not done in prison? The head of an artichoke.

How I know she was an Aquarius? I asked. Mars warms things up, Moon cools them off, make a statement. Something like that tattoo, that was a perfect example of how to make a statement — an Aquarius statement.

Pisces: You’re a cheering section of one. Exactly one. It’s not bad, it just, well, you’re there, happily cheering us along, only, if you look around, you’ll notice that you’re the only one.

One might be the loneliest number, as the song would suggest, but it’s not. Besides, alone? You’re in good company, you’re in the Pisces section. That’s good. And you’ve got something to cheer about, again, a happy, joyful noise. For a Pisces cause, a Pisces reason, a Pisces element is going well. Again, this is good. The problem is, you’re the only one.

The image I had was bleachers, grandstands, something like that with benches and not real seats. In the middle of the section, all alone, there’s this one Pisces. Happy as can be. I’d suggest you go on with the cheer. Go ahead and feel good. No one else gets it. And that leaves you feeling all alone. Can’t be helped.