For the week starting 5.26.2011

    “What masques, what dances shall we have,
    To wear away this long age of three hours
    Between our after-supper and bed-time?”

Shakespeare’s A Midsummer-Night’s Dream [V.i.36-8]

astrofish.net Gemini: “It was hilarious, I thought so, anyway,” a long-winded Gemini explanation, “my husband’s truck kept getting broken into, last time, they shattered the driver’s window, so he had an alarm installed. Next day, we were out, and he sat on the new remote. He left the truck in gear, and didn’t set the parking brake, so it just drove across the parking lot. It was very funny, but he didn’t see the humor.” Sure it was, as a Gemini you’re not immediately involved. However, it was her mate, and he was not amused at her mirth. I thought it was an amusing story, and the truck, trucking across a vacant parking lot? No damage, although a single tree that provided the stopping point, and I’m sure that the tree was inconvenienced. It’s about perspective and mistakes. It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt, then it’s hilarious. As long as we’re not the ones feeling the immediate pain. Dodge the pain, that’s part of the message, but be aware that, even though our Gemini selves are much amused? Sometimes it’s a good idea to keep our morth to our collective selves. For the time being.

astrofish.net Cancer: I paused here in the parking lot. A neighbor’s car was missing and in its place was a fancy, high-dollar brand of SUV, a Stupid Utility Vehicle. Not his style, my neighbor, but then, apparently, dealer tags on the truck, it was a loaner. The back gate was opening and closing, like a giant monster’s jaw, snapping at some unseen enemy. The lights were flashing on. The horn would honk, intermittently. Strangest sight. Car — truck — SUV — really, looked like a large toy that had gone haywire. I walked off and when I returned, hours later, I ran into that neighbor. We chatted then he explained, his car was in the shop, which explained why there was that SUV. He asked if I saw the show. I nodded. “That’s what happens when you wash the remote of the dealer’s loaner.”

He grinned amicably. Since the car was a loaner, and since it had dealer tags, and the whole “remote in the jeans’ pocket” was a good excuse, no harm, no foul. The trick here, the catch, it wasn’t my buddy’s remote. It was a dealer loaner, which makes it okay to heap that type of abuse upon the vehicle, it’s working parts, and the remote. The source of the problem, other than an unfamiliar car with a remote on the key fob? Not checking the pockets before tossing them in the clothes washer at the laundry room. Simple problem, hilarious results. Amusing because it wasn’t really his car. If it had been? Probably a lot less funny. It’s only truly hilarious when we’re not directly involved, “So there I was with a hair dryer, giving the remote a blow-dry….”

Leo: Buddy of mine is a ‘Sensi,’ master of martial arts. He can probably kill you with a single index finger, he could probably kill with one finger while his hands are tied behind his back. Very good. Ran his own studio, and so forth. Trained Law Enforcement Officers, he’s that good. We were out one night, coming out of a movie and some young hooligans started to mock us. I wondered why my buddy didn’t use some of that kick-butt martial arts stuff to go over and whup up on those young punks. “Did’t perceive a threat,” was his answer. The verbal ribbing included mocking our collective manhood. Not a perceived threat? Turns out, when my buddy does open a can of his brand of whoop-ass, dismemberment and disfigurement are part of the deal. Those punks weren’t, according to my buddy, worth some skinned knuckles. Although, I doubt he’d have even hurt himself that much. If there is no perception of a real threat, I strongly advise against opening a can of that Leo-brand whoop-ass. Verbal threats are just that, not real. Imaginary words, no real threat. If need be, let’s a wait a few weeks — if need be — there’s always next time. Nobody has a bigger can of Whoop-Ass than a mighty Leo. This is definitely not the week to open it.

Virgo: Sun’s in Gemini, and the next few planets are in Taurus. Ever wonder where the term “Ten Gallon Hat” came from? It’s from the Spanish term, “galon,” which means braid. A ten gallon hat was a hat that could support ten braids.

That tall.

The Sun makes for uncomfortable Virgo “stuff” while the rest of that, Mercury-Venus-Mars in Taurus makes for fun stuff. The caution is hasty conclusions. So where did you think the term Ten Gallon Hat originated?

Libra: I’ve caught a couple of near-record (speckled) sea-trout. Last big one was on lure that skated along, just below the surface. That lure, good stuff, would float at about a depth of six inches. Just below the surface. In shallow water, like flats fishing, that “just below the surface” is even more important. In Libra, now, more so than before, that “just below the surface” aspect is important. Might not be fishing for specs this week, although, I heard, down at the Coast, they were running good. However, as a Libra, there’s something you fishing for. Against the tide and times being what they are? Look for something that runs just below the surface. Like a good lure, that skates a few inches deep.

Scorpio: Party Favor – it was a party favor, I’m sure. Someone gave me a couple of pre-packaged bags of snack-food like substances. One of the bags was a trail mix that I liked. Sort of liked. It peanuts, almonds, pumpkin seeds and then, these mildly hot cracker strips and some sesame crackers. I poured it into a bowl and I ate the stuff I liked, the almonds and the sesame crackers. And those little orange things that were hot, well, zesty, anyway, and what I was left with? Bowl full of stuff I didn’t care for, the good stuff was all picked out. My hands were also salty and some of the orange had rubbed off, it’s on the keyboard now. These days are like that, you know. The Scorpio portion of the sky leaves you with a bowl of mixed nuts, a trail mix of some kind, and all the good stuff is gone. Hey, at least you’ve got something to eat even if some other person — like me — has already picked out the best bits. All you’re left with are salty peanuts. However, on a hot summer afternoon? Maybe all that sodium-chloride is good.

Sagittarius: Two Sagittarius buddies work the counter at BBQ place. I like my buddies just fine, Sagittarius brethren. Sagittarius sister, too, like them as well, but in this case, it was pair of stud (studly) Sagittarius guys. One is infectious with laughter, glib manner, quick retort and an unsubtle bounce to his stride. He bubbles at work, the interaction, people, running the cutting block or the cash register. The other one, he was way more laid back. Iconic, as this pair of Sagittarius bookends made for a good example. With what’s happening, now? The casual Sagittarius looked at the other one bouncing along, and he just grinned. Laconic? Might be the right word. Feigned ennui? Sure, that too. Not total disdain, but casual, offhand, slightly aloof stance might serve our Sagittarius selves better, especially now. I order a two-meat plate, and that second Sagittarius made sure that I got an end-cut of brisket, and since it was little, he gave me a couple of extra slices. All about who you know, and remaining aloof, bemused, at the exuberance of others.

Capricorn: I was on a fishing trip and replaced some fishing line. Box said “10 lbs. Mono.” I assumed, since that’s what the box said, that the fishing line on the spool inside would be ten pound monofilament. Felt like it, and I wasn’t to worried, other than to replace the frayed line. Week, two weeks later, at home, I was digging through the tackle from that one trip, cleaning and getting ready for the next trip. I pulled out that box of fishing line and looked. The box had gotten soggy and fell apart. The spool said, “12 lbs. Mono.” My mistake, but it was an error in a good way. I’d rather have the heavier line than the lighter line. In that situation, anyway. I thought the line was a little heavier, but I couldn’t tell. I thought things were slightly off, but again, it wasn’t until almost two weeks later that I discovered my simple error. The original box? It had a sale price on it, so, I’m sure, something was changed, slipped up, mistakes are made, and the only real problem was I didn’t read the label on the spool of fishing line. What the box said and what the actual spool said were close, same color, same monofilament fishing line, and yet, the weight, and presumably tensile strength, were slightly different. Look inside the box this week. Don’t just read the marketing material, look at the actual (thing). “It said so on the box,” that won’t work. Okay, it worked fine for me, but won’t work for Capricorn, not now.

Aquarius: The disassociated disorder, the ADD, the ADHD, the lack of interest over time? I associate that with the “snooze” button. I don’t recall snooze buttons on old-school alarm clocks, and I don’t recall that generation, the one without the snooze button, having the problems with attention deficit. Me? I’ll blame the snooze button. More than TV, more than MTV, more than the inter-web, it’s the snooze button that is the fall of mankind and the current state of downward spiral for civilization as we know it. When I lined up your chart, when I got my little chart program wrapped around Aquarius, what I noticed was an incessant desire to hit the snooze button (maybe on the alarm clock of life). Made me realize that all of our modern problems can be traced back to that one invention. “Five more minutes,” that becomes, a half day late. Hence the source of trouble, and from whence all our modern toils and troubles originate. I can’t fix that, and the interrupted sleep patterns is the real root, but again, it’s that snooze button. To deal with what’s happening — right now — the planets’ influences — to deal effectively? No snooze button. Not on life, not in the morning, not at all, at least, not now. You’ll also see I’m right, the snooze button is the work of the devil.

Pisces: Computers, and by extension, the world home page web thing, all of that supposed to simplify our lives. Not that we care much about the other signs, but life should be better for Pisces because the computers can look after all the stupid details that are so beneath our Pisces purview. The problem? Spurious, little details. The bigger problem? “God is in the details.” The biggest issue? Not getting bogged down looking at those details. I have a picture of me, there, with a fish. No surprise — have lots of those picturesFishing Guide to the Stars? But I was searching for a very specific image of me with a certain fish, and that was harder to locate. I got bogged down, looking at years’ old images, then looking at some spots online, trying to find that one picture. I know I posted it someplace, the question is, where? Finally, it was just quicker to dig through the digital archives I’ve got, and that’s where there is trouble. You go looking for one thing, one item, or in my case a single image. You get hopelessly mired in the cacophony of background images — or whatever you’re searching for — and you get distracted. Focus. Stay on track and don’t get lost, at least not like I did. Might be difficult, but keep your original objective in mind. Foremost in mind. No looking, poking, shopping along the way. Stay focused.

Aries: Buddy of mine, from the old trailer park, in South Austin, when we all got kicked out, he moved his trailer to a temporary warehouse space, industrial side of town. That was years ago. He still lives there. Big warehouse, back half of it is his. His trailer, plugged in, with electricity, sewage and water, all piped in, plastic pipes, the water’s through a garden hose, but it’s been like that, literally, for years. He’s happy enough. Permanent solution. Supposed to be a temporary fix, yet, to this day, he’s still there. He lives in a trailer that’s parked in the vacant portion of a warehouse. In exchange for space, electricity and water — sewage, too — the warehouse has a live-in guard. My buddy, he’s not always there, but he is most nights, and his slightly erratic schedule makes for an even better guard. This is a case where a temporary fix has become a permanent solution. If you know him, it’s not weird. If it’s the first time, a trailer inside a large warehouse? It’s a little on the stranger than strange side. When the AC is on, now, and in all truth, he probably couldn’t hear it if someone broke in, but does that matter? As an Aries, he’s mean enough looking to serve as more than adequate prevention. Permanent solution, temporary fix, careful, Aries, what’s not meant to be permanent, not now, it could become, like my buddy, permanent.

Taurus: House Trance Dance is a sub-genre of music. Kind of a blend of styles, and I found most of the material originated in Northern Europe. I started thinking, and it was, in my mind, at one time, anyway, sort of like hip-hop for those types — like me — who are obviously challenged in certain ways. The last time I picked up a CD of that material, Dance-Trance, something-something, one of the songs reminds me of the way it works. Song, I guess, is a loose definition, since the material is just cut and pasted together from tracks from other albums. The song started slow, hence the “trance” designation. Ended with quite a catchy dance number, all bass and drums and up and in your face. Good stuff. Started deceptively slow. Like monks singing a chant kind-of-slow. Works up to that fast dance beat before too long, and the elegiac tones are looped back end, although, the rhythm accelerates. Like having Mars-Venus-Mercury in your sign. Like now. I’m not saying that you should purchase this material. I’m giving you an example that covers how this starts. Slow, Peaceful, and then it starts to get moving. Don’t be deceived by a slow start to a quick week. Long and droning sermon becomes a fast-break beat dance song.

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 KramerWetzel.com.

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