Fishing Guide to the Stars for the week starting 4.14.2011

“We cannot call her winds
and waters sighs: they
are greater storms and tempests
than almanacs can report.”
Shakespeare’s Antony & Cleopatra [I.ii.144-6]

If Mercury is retrograde for you, it’s retrograde for the IRS as well. Goes around, comes around. How to time the mailing of the tax form?

Aries: The girl’s an Aries, I know that. She’s got on heavy eyeliner, with little lines, drawn out past the corner of her eyes and endings in swirl-finish. It’s both garish and enticing at the same time. I used to fall for those tricks. Still do on some days. Against her olive complexion, the eye liner looks almost natural, accentuating the big, brown eyes. It’s a ruse. It’s trick. It’s not real. The lines around her eyes, they’ve been drawn on her face with a pencil, pen, maybe even a Sharpie. Who knows, for sure? A trick of the light, the harsh springtime light pointing to little flaws in the plan? That’s what this Mercury Retrograde and its implications is about. What’s real and what’s clever marketing? What’s makeup that comes off with soap and water, and what’s lasting? Valid questions for the good-looking Aries.

Taurus: There’s a distant musical strain that filters through my world. I tend towards the Latin side of town. South side, West Side, whatever-side. It’s really a little less geographical other than a relative closeness to old Mexico, New Mexico, and culturally attuned. There’s a backdrop of “mexican” music. It can be Tejano, Norteno, Conjunto, or a personal favorite, Nortechno (Norteno mixed with Techno, a la Mexican Institute of Sound).

So when I stopped in a convenience store to get a quick bite, or when I was sitting at the airport, getting my boots shined, the dulcet tones of the accordion, and some crooner warbling in Mexican filters through. I never paid much attention to the music, preferring, when able, to mock it. However, in the last month or so it’s become a more persistent background noise. Either I’m hearing it more often, or I’m listening to what I hear. More often. Or, like a Taurus I’m attuned to hearing this now. The background, the backdrop, the material that doesn’t usually register? Subconscious material is even more important. “Yo soy consuelo,” what is that singer saying?

Gemini: At one point in my academic career, I studied Latin. Other languages include both French and Spanish, although the Spanish I speak tends to be more “mexican” than Spanish, and it tends to what is partially a border patois, and part “restaurant spanish.” I can order food and get a table cleaned off, say hello, and get the trash taken out, but other than that? I’m pretty much useless. As much as I have fun with language and sounds, I’ve found that I have to limit my attempts at foreign languages. Foreign to me, anyway. As a Gemini, you’re going to pull one of my favorite stunts, stuck in a little Mexican dive, the food’s great, stuck there, you’ll answer in grammatically flawless French. Accent will be perfect; you’ve nailed it. Only, that’s the wrong language. One of the oldest extant buildings from the Republic of Texas years (1835-1846), is the French Legation in Austin. The French language isn’t such a stretch. France once owned Texas, again, buried history. Practically, the French language is all but useless in South Texas. Sounds nice, looks good on paper, “romance” language, like spanish, and therein the similarities end. The problem is communication, and like me, trying to bust out French in a Mexican dive? Bet it doesn’t work. Gemini: rethink that language option, make yourself understood.

Cancer: A buddy if mine was advertising a digital product, eBook, that promised to make you thinner, smarter, richer, and get teenage kids to listen and mind better. In his little blurb, he admitted he lied about that last part, about getting teenage kids to mind better, as he thought that was impossible, but the rest of the products he offered would make you thinner, richer, smarter. I’d like to offer the same deal, a simple product that would make you thinner, richer, smarter. Can never be too thin, too rich, or too smart. That’s the kicker, on this week, I have no such product to offer, and while I like my buddy, let’s be real, all of those from a simple textbook? Probably not really going to happen. I can’t make you thinner, I can’t make you richer, again, both of these are decisions that lie within your own realm. However, I can help with the smart thing: Uranus, Mercury (RX), Mars, Jupiter, and soon, Venus are in Aries, as is the Sun. This exerts symbolic pressure on your normally good taste. Don’t make a decision about color choices that might have a lasting impact. Bad time to make design decisions. Put that idea on “hold,” and you’ll appear smarter, almost overnight.

Leo: When I served in the military, I learned to never volunteer for anything. Never volunteer. Never, ever volunteer for anything while in the service. Never volunteer. There’s a bevy of astrological “feel goods” going on, in and around, Leo. Good for you. One of the secrets to best employ this energy? Don’t volunteer. Don’t say, “I’m feeling good, so I can take on this extra task.” Won’t work, Mercury is working against you. Likewise, “We need a fresh mind to tackle this problem….” You do not raise your Leo paw, you don’t wink, you don’t move, you do nothing. Stare at the ground. No volunteering. Yes, you have the freshest mind. Yes, you’re better able to handle this, and yes, Mercury is still retrograde and will cause more trouble than you deserve. The simplest way to avoid the problem? You guessed it: don’t volunteer. Yes, you’re way better than any other choice, but that doesn’t mean you should open you mouth and point that out by volunteering.

Virgo: The black leather jacket. Eventually, everyone has one. Should have one, did have one, will have one. Falls in one — or more — of those categories. The black leather jacket, really, it should be a black leather motorcycle jacket, it’s less about the actual leather jacket and more about what that jacket symbolizes. My first guess would be the original biker movie, The Wild One, et al, Marlon Brando with his jacket and cap, a cigarette hanging from his lip. Cuts a certain figure that you belong to no group, except, perhaps a motley gang of ne’er do wells. Even then, you don’t belong so much as tolerate the appearance of hanging out in the same area. All attitude and jacket and stuff. I just like the idea of the jacket. This is less about the idea of the an “outlaw” motorcycle gang and more about the attitude of the loner, the image projected by that jacket and its associations. Here? Way too warm to actually wear a leather jacket, it’s half to summer broil. I’ve been in shorts and sandals since parts of January and February. Hardly leather weather for me. However, in Virgo, with what’s going on? The astrological portents suggest an attitude that will help you survive and thrive, even when Mercury is retrograde like it is. Think of the pose in the leather jacket. Black leather jacket. Don’t have to have one, just strike the pose. See if that helps.

Libra: Mercury Retrograde is a lot like a Black Velvet Elvis I own. That “canvas,” as it’s really a piece of rather inexpensive black velvet, but that canvas has a long and tortured history. I’d layer another element on top that particular framed image’s history, what with the licensing arrangement that’s probably not been met. The original should be from a town along the border, since most of the better “black velvet” artwork is from the Texas-Mexican border. There was a friendlier time, and I’d like to think that’s when this is from. Border, North Texas, Central Texas, South Texas, back to North Texas, then to a trailer park in Austin, eventually. It took many years to travel to those various places. Been around a long time. There’s a heavy patina of cigar smoke, a hint of concrete stain, and other elements that have figure into that one image’s history. Gets around. This Mercury Retrograde is going to make an attempt to plot and follow that one framed image, its trajectory in my life, before my life, and who knows, maybe after my life, as well.

Scorpio: I’m well-versed in several, very distinct, styles of fishing. For one type of fishing, there’s a certain kind of gear required. I keep all my fishing for lake-side bass fishing in one tackle box. In another tackle box, I’ve got my “sit by the side of the bay” (saltwater) gear — inshore fishing, as it were. Finally, there’s the coastal gear, not even in tackle box, but a tackle bag, heavier gear for the monsters that lurk beneath the waves of the ocean. Gulf of Mexico, but who’s counting? This is about segregation and splitting, refinements, and compartments. All about what goes in what. There’s spillover, as I’ve used some fishing pole in two or more places, and there’s some common parts with the fishing line, but typically, a lake bass requires a #2 or #3 offset worm hook whereas the Big Reds like the long-shank hook, and the speckled trout like a slightly smaller hook. Just depends. The problem, I had two coastal boxes in the back seat of a girlfriend’s car, she slammed on the brakes, and there’s now a bunch of fishing gear all tumbled together. It’s nice to keep life, like a tackle box, separated into individual compartments, like I prefer my fishing gear.

Sagittarius: An axiom, I do believe I passed this on into the Pink Cake Collection, but one rule? “If you can’t be right? Be wrong at the top of your voice.” While it’s not an actual rule I’d suggest we live by, while it’s not a real “rule,” per se, I think it still bares examination as a way through this week. Look at the “fire” planets happening in a compatible sign: Aries. Look as the Sun gets ready to shift into Taurus, Mr. Mercury is still in apparent Retrograde, and as Sagittarius, we are going to be wrong. Horrifically incorrect. Bad judgement, bad data, wrong conclusion, narrow-minded, open-minded, too broad, too little, too much. Something. I’ll promise I’ll make a call about some situation and be way off. I’ll suggest that you’re going to do the same. Plausible, neat, sounds correct, and it’s wrong. This will only get as blown out of proportion as you let it. Or, in my example, only get blown out of proportion as much as I pursue the part where I’m wrong. Think about it. Find out there’s a mistake? Stop. Correct the error. Adjust and change course. Or, you can be like me, with much fanfare and time spent complaining, working it for being wrong. Your choice, Sagittarius.

Capricorn: Using the Tropical Zodiac, traditional western astrology, I’m suggesting you wait until the Moon is in your sign, Capricorn. Wait until then to make your big move. Grand statement, eloquent solution, elegant entrance, whatever it is that you’re up to? Might really want to time this one by the Lunar Cycles, and I’d suggest, wait until the Moon is in your sign. The problem is that the collision and collusion of the planets in Aries are combining to make your Capricorn world unsettled, and you’re tempted to rush a project.

Mercury, backwards (retrograde) in Aries, remember?

Timing is critical. I’d like to suggest the best time for you, in this next week? Wait until the Moon is in your sign, Capricorn. Give it a rest. There’s no hurry, there’s no reason why this has to be done right now, there’s no profit gained from a hasty and ill-timed response. I’ll get an e-mail, “You suck!” Perfect example of an ill-timed and bad response. In the past I would publicly humiliate the author, but these days, I can’t be bothered with the effort to mock some poor soul. See? If you wait until the Moon enters your sign? That issue get resolved. In your favor. Then I don’t suck.

Aquarius: I switched phone systems, yet again, and I found one that I like, for the time being, but since it’s one of them “inter-web” phones, VOIP, there will be, at some times, a little lag. Worse, with a reading last week, this happened. I would start to say something on the client on the other end would ask a question. I’d say something, question being fired at me at the same time. I’d stop. Client would stop. At the same time, after about a two-beat pause, we would both say, “You go ahead.” It was almost comic, and it was amusing, for the first 15 minutes. But after that initial time? The two of us trying to talk over each other wasn’t fun. The timing was off. As an Aquarius, you understand the comment about the timing being off, as it is right now. Off. Blame me, blame the inter-webs, blame imperfect technology, blame whatever you want, but realize it’s like that conversation, back and forth at the same time. Was funny. After a couple of weeks, or even, in my example, just fifteen minutes? Not fun anymore. Might try and pad the Aquarius response time with an extra one, maybe two-beat pause. After all, the first liar never has a chance.

Pisces: There’s one catch-phrase that will help you more than anything else this week — quote, after me, “I meant to do that.” Mercury is retrograde, with a vengeance. In Aries. Venus is fixing to leave your sign, and all of this adds up to little mistakes that seem to work out well for you. Hence the catch-phrase for the week, “I meant to do that.” I pulled out a cheap digital camera, as was my style at the time, and I fumbled a little bit with the camera, visions of it crashing into the ground and a millions pieces danced through my head. I caught it in my left hand, after a bit of a juggle, and I flipped it around, snapped the picture, looked at another observer who was much amused by my fumbling, then I said, those magic words for Pisces, “I meant to do that.” Despite the dance and juggle, fumble and subsequent recovery? That picture wasn’t worth saving. Not all of my mistakes are good.