Fishing Guide to the Stars 4.8.2010

“Be my soul, a swain, a most simple clown!”
Shakespeare’s Love’s Labor’s Lost [IV.i.139] Costard delivered the wrong letter, and much hilarity did ensue.

    Fishing Guide to the Stars
    For the week starting: 4.8.2010

Aries: Happy Birthday! Aries: Happy Birthday!
Point: Sun in Aries.
Point: New Moon approaching.
Point: Venus in Taurus.
Point: Mercury in Taurus.
Aries: Happy Birthday!

I’d work on the point about Saturn slipping back into Virgo, but that’s being dealt with in other areas, and frankly, less of an influence in Aries. However, there are several other points that are worthy of considering. Long term stuff looks really, really good for the coming years, especially if your birthday is today.

The problem is that this is over time. The good stuff, occurs over the next eight to ten months. Not all at once. While we’d all like a good birthday celebration? That’s up to you to make it happen. I’d get a little less worked up about the birthday and start looking a little further along the timeline, like into next week and even next month, month after.

What it means? Slow down, this one isn’t the big deal you’re making it. Well, it is, but it isn’t. Give this some time. Wait and see. Portents for your coming year augur well. Taurus: “It’s like my mother always told me, ‘Never believe men in tears or crippled dogs,’ that was her advice.” A friend was talking to me about a problem and then as she listened to herself, that information came out. As a Taurus, I’d like you to either listen to yourself, or listen to my friend’s mother’s words of wisdom.

One or the other will hold some good advice. In part, though, I think this is more about listening to yourself rather than listening to someone else, even if the someone else is me. I know my way around astrology charts, but that doesn’t help with you listening to your own, internal voice. That voice of reason and common sense. Which is what is much needed at this moment, as there seems to be just one, might be more, but one is the primary focus, an event that seems to be spinning hopelessly out of control.

Stop and listen to that advice. Or, better yet, stop and listen to some of your own, Taurus homespun wisdom. You’ve got nothing to lose that way. Gemini: I hadn’t heard the expression until a few years ago, and these were terms applied to certain politicians. “He would suck the air out a room.” I had to get that clarified. Turns out, room-suckers, air-suckers, I think about a local fish, a sucker fish, and its species feeds on algae.

But no, that’s not what this was. It was a term, when one of these politicians walks into the room? The air seems like it’s all sucked up by this persona. Closest I’ve been to a persona like that? Rock star, old Austin City Limits, tapped in the studio. Cool show, but when this one performer walked out of the wings, could’ve been my company, all the girls gasped and swooned. There was a presence that this one star had. Probably still has, although, aging rock stars, you have to wonder. Still, the presence, the invisible aura, the transparent mantle, something. Air-suckers. Room-suckers, I guess.

Never found that with any politicians, but I tend away from politics, me being a tree-hugging liberal, mostly. Stop, this isn’t about politics or rock stars, this is about an effect. The “air getting sucked out of a room by a certain personality.” You have that ability, this next few days, but it’s dependent upon you staying quiet, long enough for someone to realize that they are in your mighty presence. Sometimes quiet speaks more loudly than anything else. Cancer: The Sun in Aries is an irritation. It’s like walking though a vacant lot, following a footpath, only to have some the high weeds on either side brush against my bare legs and cause a distraction. Irritation. Not so much that you’d stop. I don’t.

The deal is, this is a great shortcut home, and while it is an abandoned area, just a little south of a mostly vacant warehouse? It’s only partially overgrown, and from pathway? It’s obvious I’m not the only one who uses this route. The tall weeds will tickle or itch as they brush against my naked calves. That’s the Sun in Aries.

Jupiter, in Pisces? That’s like, that pathway leads to another path, shaded, big willow trees hanging over, Live Oak with Spanish Moss (like) things growing on them. A soothing effect. Graciously tree-lined, a little wider, no dry grass and weeds? Jupiter (in Pisces).

Two influences, one sign. I think the whole point is that sticking through the irritable path long enough, and it leads into a nicer pathway. Just don’t let the little irritants bother you. Too much. Don’t let the little things grabbing at your ankles? The ankle-biters? Don’t let them get in the way of seeing where you’re headed. Leo: I’m warning about diversions. Distractions. Don’t get distracted. Buddy of mine, works at a big computer company here? Lot of Dilbert action going on at his workplace? He was telling me about his most recent distraction.

There was an outsourced, hot-shot consultant. High dollar person, firm — something, and the person who came in to do the presenting? Young lady. Of more than expected proportions. Realize this is a freaky weather time of year. Someone like me? Not a problem, I’ll just open the windows and turn off the HVAC, but in a big office building, that’s not possible. Apparently. She had on a white T-shirt-like blouse, had to take the suit coat off, and my buddy can’t tell anything else about the presentation. He thinks it might’ve been on unsafe practices with the coffee machine. Or how to make copies. He was completely unsure about the topic. He could define the blouse with amazing detail. To hear his version?

It’s funny, and his edification and asides, just added to the tale. That’s just the sort of distractions I’m warning Leo about. While I doubt the presenter had a lot to say, or she would’ve left her suit coat on, maybe she timed the distraction just right. Got glowing comments, I’m sure.

That’s the distractions I’m warning about. Don’t get caught. Or pay attention to the presentation, not the presenter. The data, not the way it’s presented. Virgo: Cosmic and commemorative “gotcha.” Those darn planets, they do the funniest things, huh? It’s about Saturn and his one last little pass at you, just like a reminder, not really a thump, just a little tickle. How bad will this be? Not bad, not bad at all.

It’s just a gentle reminder that something needs a little assistance.

There are two reference books I pulled off the shelf. The first just showed what was where, planet-wise. The second gave hints about what to expect. I’m back to the cosmic, commemorative “gotcha,” as I liked my version a little better. It’s not the end. Not the end unless it is something needs to be over. If so, you can hang on for another month or two, but I’d just suggest you say good-bye to whatever it is.

The converse side, especially going into the beginning of next week? It’s time to position a new project, a new idea, or better yet, a reworked old idea, get it ready for new exposure. Next week. That cosmic, commemorative “gotcha?” That just showed where the old idea needs to be slightly modified. Libra: There’s a creek where I’ve fished. Not a big creek, a little creek. Part drainage ditch, part spring-fed tributary. There’s a shallow bend, an eddy, and place to wet a line there. I like it fine, except, I’ve caught the little fishes there several times, and now, they are more timid.

Plastic worms don’t work anymore, so now it’s live worms and then, it got so as I was walking up to my fishing spot, my shadow would cause them to scatter, up and down the creek’s channel.

Over the years, I’ve learned a few tricks. One of the tricks is to have the sun in my face. Not at my back. An afternoon sun at my back, while it’s a great feeling for fishing? It’s not so good because the fish can see my shadow. I said it was small creek. I just started approaching from the other side. No shadow, no fish swimming away in annoyance. Keep the (South Texas) sun on your face. Adjust as need be, for your location and particulars. Scorpio: One of my friends here sent me an e-mail that was titled, “Board.” I thought it was a joke, or a play on words. Something or other. When I got around to it, it didn’t seem like a high-priority because, after all, I’m not bored, but when I finally opened it, it was invitation to “sit on the board of (name charity).”

I had to decline. I do my tithe in my own manner, and I do believe in giving back to the community, only, I tend think I give more away in my style than doing it as part of some official body. Then there are board meetings, and fund-raisers, and decisions, and no matter what the board does, someone is unhappy with my decisions.

Can’t please all the people all the time, and considering the position doesn’t pay? Yeah, not me. Thanks but no thanks. Think about my decision not to join the board. Think about your Scorpio self. We both agree it’s a noble cause, but are the interests of the charity — and our Scorpio selves — best served in this way? Sagittarius: Once, in the next seven days, at least once, hopefully, just once, my faith will be tested. As Sagittarius? The glass is never half-empty, it’s always at least half-full, almost filled to the top, just to look at it from here. All good, all the time. No problem we can’t surmount. I’m sure there’s a way out of this, let me just think….

Just once, in the next seven days, I would tend to think of it more as the next five says, there’s going to be a bleak moment. Scary, adjust the adjectives to paint a bleak and foreboding image as need be. Terrible.

“Uphill, in the snow, barefoot. Uphill both ways.”

I’m not sure the allusion works, but it was worth a try. Anyway, that bleakness? Hold on. Persevere. Don’t, under any terms, panic. Screeching, hollering, weeping and wailing? No good will come of that. And you might miss the break. There is a break. No, I’m seeing the dark spot as a spot, not a whole, big black hole from which there is no escape. None of that.

Why I referred to this event as “faith tested” because, if you keep the faith? The situation will pass we can get back to happy go lucky ways. Capricorn: I was rigging a fishing pole for a trip. Upcoming fishing trip. I didn’t know what bait was going to be working, but a safe bet? On that pole? I like to have a jig-head with a curly-tail grub. Sometimes, it’s a midnight color with blue metal-flake. Other times, the color is called “Root beer,” but I think of it as a crawfish color. Other times? I’ve got my secret colors that work anywhere, anytime, but I’m not revealing everything.

The lake, I wasn’t sure what the conditions were going to be, so I tied my little jig-head on the pole. And I left it at that. I didn’t fit any bait to the pole, yet.

Preparation is part of what makes this run smooth, but then, if I’d second-guessed that plastic grub? I’d have to peel one off and screw another one on. Instead of doubling my effort, I prepared in a way that was best. Just enough, but not too much.

Prepare, get prepared. Enough. Not too much, Can’t guess what color will work at that lake, at that moment, right? However, for that pole? Good bet is a jig-head, at least for starters. Well-prepared. Aquarius: I’ve got a note from foreign travels. Apparently, there’s a Barton Road in London. I suppose it’s not that unusual. Barton Springs Road in Austin, it should be famous. I traversed the trail there quite often. One of my books was named after the Tuesday special at BBQ joint on Barton Springs Road, matter of fact.

So a Barton Road in London (UK) was kind of a cool find. No BBQ, at least, not the kind I’m used, though I didn’t expect to find decent BBQ, or good TexMex, or even bad TexMex in the UK. The name was similar. Barton Road, Barton Springs Road. That’s also where the similarity ended.

Got me thinking about the food issue, BBQ in London. While it’s a great metropolitan center, expecting a certain kind of comfort food? That’s just a foolish expectation on my part. Foolish and maybe a little stupid. Excellent British and Continental Cuisine. TexMex? As the name implies, that’s a strictly a regional type of food, and expecting to find out outside of its native region? Unrealistic expectation. While there will be similarities, manage what you expect. Pisces: It’s time to use a little creative visualization. Time to dream something up, meditate, whatever you call it? I tend to get the alpha state of daydreams and proper zen-like meditation confused. However, that’s not important. It is important to head towards this kind of trance.

What I’m seeing, imagine this in your mind, you’re like a giant piece of earthmoving equipment. Steamroller was what I was thinking of. You’re like a big, earth-flattening piece of hardware. I don’t know where the name steam-roller comes from, none of the pieces of equipment that I’ve seen, stuff that fits the definition? None of them are steam-powered. Not important. We’re working with an image, and what I see, what I want you to hold in your minds’ eye? Keep an image of you, Pisces, driving a steamroller, and imagine yourself driving right over that last obstacle. Person. Place, thing. Driving right over them. It. He or she.

If it’s person? Image that they are standing on a soft enough surface that, cartoon-like, that person gets flattened into the substrata. They will emerge, slightly flattened, after you roll over them. However, it will make the Pisces point, and that’s all that matters. You’re a steamroller. Get rolling.

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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