“How far the little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in naughty world.”
Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice [V.i.100/102]
Full Moon in Pisces, on Monday. Moon Day. Virgo-tinged wild weekend ahead.
Virgo: Happy Birthday! One of the reasons I like living where I do, one of the little perks to bein’ in Texas? Girl walks into a restaurant. She’s wearing Daisy Dukes, purple cowboy boots, purple sequin vest and matching purple sequin purse. Ensemble worked. She wasn’t really young, so I’ll surmise that she was reasonably fit as the short-shorts weren’t totally out of place. I can’t tell anything else because I was a little flabbergasted. However, to be honest, I live in a place where such attire isn’t all that odd. More like almost commonplace. Quotidian, even. So it’s not a big deal. What the big deal was, it wasn’t a big deal. Any other part of the country? I’m sure there would be statements and eyebrows waggled. There’s a certain lack of shame in area of Texas. Can’t say it’s all like this, but in my corridor? Quite common. Virgo Birthdays! Party! Dare to be a little outlandish, in one form or another. At least one fishing buddy (Virgo) will read this and wonder if he’s supposed to wear Daisy Dukes. I sure hope not.
- Virgo special: Order a half-hour reading and get a full hour (year overview) reading for the half-hour price. Valid only if your birthday is this week – some restrictions may apply.
Libra: It’s a matter of trying to get the most out of a situation. To that end, and I’m sure at least one person will assume this is about by own mother, but it’s not, this isn’t about her at all. Anyway, one buddy was complaining about how cheap his mother was. Had become. She’d still, allegedly, this is third-hand, completely unsupported, but his mother was taking the little ketchup packets from the hamburger and fast food places, and squeezing those ketchup packets into the ketchup bottle at home.
See if that works. I applaud the idea, the ingenuity. I like the concept. I’m not doing that myself. Way too much work for too little reward. It would take hours to half-fill a ketchup bottle. By then, I’d be hungry again and ready for the next meal with ketchup. Let’s say it was burgers. I’d be ready for more burgers before I’d gotten enough ketchup back into the bottle. Begs a question, too, wouldn’t it just be easier to use that purloined ketchup straight out of the squeeze packet? It’s about appearances, and just how important are those appearances.
Scorpio: I’ve been configuring websites since dial-up and floppy disks. There’s a part of this that looks magical. I worked on a Scorpio’s computer, and I made some deleted files reappear. Looked like magic. “How’d you do that!” More a Scorpio statement than a question. Looks like magic. In effect, it is. However, any good technician knows it’s not really magic, just sleight of hand, obfuscation, smoke, mirrors and willingness to suspend disbelief. What I did wasn’t magic, but appeared like that. With the planets thusly arrayed, Sun/Mercury/Venus in Virgo, and most notably, Saturn in the sign that falls in front of Scorpio, and then, to crown the whole mess, Jupiter backwards in Taurus, opposite from Scorpio? With that mess? You’re going to want to call a magician. Or technician. I can save you that call. Follow the instructions. Follow them down to a letter. Step by step. No skipping steps, no condensing, no glossing over material that doesn’t seem important because, as it turns out, it is important. Step-by-step instructions have to be followed, exactly. No short-cuts. No “If I try this, it should be quicker” because that’s exactly how you take a small problem and turn it into a giant mess. I know.
Sagittarius: I was in a diner, road trip, lonely road trip, middle of nowhere. “Scenes from a diner.” Anyway, think about that archetype diner, and I was sitting there, probably sipping on lukewarm coffee, slightly bitter and acrid, and I overheard a conversation. “Pop, you really need to start texting. It would help a whole lot.” Forgot to mention that he would enjoy the instant contact, but he would also have problems because he would get confused with text and email, or, a phone call, or, worse, he would save all the text messages for forever. I’ve seen it in aging parents. There’s a generation that refuses to throw anything away, even if it’s just e-mail. Which, in the short version, isn’t a big deal, but in the longer-range view, think, about maybe two decades of e-mail? There is a time to push the technology on the older generation. This isn’t the time. There’s a time to advance our Sagittarius agenda. This isn’t the time. There’s a time to triumph our collective causes. This isn’t the time. This is a time to quietly bide our ways, and wait. It’s okay to pitch that texting idea to the older parent. Expecting that parent to embrace the idea? Right now? Probably not happening.
Capricorn: There’s now an industry dedicated to “Getting Things Done.” Started with stationary suppliers, then office supply companies, and then, the GTD migrated to software. There’s an application, for your computer, that will sync with your phone and laptop, just so you have the outline of the project and what step is next, right in front of you. It’s obvious. One of the cooler ones I saw, it was a card case for 3 X 5 index cards, and the outline procedure was to tick the steps off, as they got completed. The retail secret was better, as there were cards, although any standard index card would work, but theirs had special lines drawn on them. Then there was the filing system, just a fancy recipe box with tabbed files for “to do,” and “waiting on someone else” and “done,” or “brainstorming.” I have am much simpler solution: post it notes. While I have several hues, color doesn’t matter as much as the idea. Scraps of paper. Electronic scraps of paper. Whatever works for the Capricorn mind. Me? Personally, I’m leery of the GTD industry, but that’s me. However, some kind of list of things to keep you focused. Stay focused on the goal, and you’ll get there much quicker.
Aquarius: Happens to be a doctor’s office, but I’ll suppose this example could be anywhere. I noticed an old VHS player. At one time, that was the epitome of cool. While BetaMax was a clearly superior format, the VHS quickly became the gold standard that has long since gone the way of the 8-track tape in cars. Few people, except for some of certain age, will even get the 8-track reference. Like floppy disks? I fear that CDs are the next medium to die an inglorious death on the trash heap of “old-tech.” That VHS player, the one I was referring to, at the start before I got sidetracked? It was being used as a flower pot holder. On an end-table, in the doctor’s office, not named, no need to explain that, I’m sure. It was just the oddest of elements, odd, old, dead-tech, new use.
Pisces: I looked at the caller ID. I answered the phone with a growl, “What!” The number was one of my fishing buddies, and I was hoping he was calling to book a fishing trip. I thought about answering, “What’s up, dude.” I always kind of liked the growl, “What!” A soft, feminine voice answered, cautiously, “Kramer?” His wife. Girlfriend, really, okay, wife, whatever. Been together a long time. Long enough to be familiar with each other that he’d let her use his phone. I’ve seen that happen once or twice, like, when he’s driving, but I thought it was him. Wasn’t. “I’m sorry,” I started, “I thought this was Bubba’s number.” “It is, usually, but I have a favor to ask….” Let me explain how this works. Man is in charge. Women are subservient as long as it suits them. Then the women are in charge. Probably have been in charge all along, but this isn’t a gender discussion. This is about grabbing the phone and growling at a buddy’s girlfriend, me, making an assumption and being wrong. We worked it out, astrology question. However, think about it — watch, one (1), be careful you don’t growl at any girlfriends, and two (2), faulty assumptions are sometimes easy to cover up and sometimes, it’s not so easy.
Aries: I was thinking about one of my trips to jail. I was stone-cold sober, on a Thursday night, blasting down a side street at relatively high rate of speed, about double the posted limit. It was safe, I knew what I was doing. Young, reckless, (stupid), and so forth. I spent the night in jail. Got locked up, processed, and called the lawyer. He said he’s have me bailed out in the morning, but he couldn’t push the paperwork through any faster. I knew I was in for about 24 hours, maybe a little less. Locked up in the county jail, fortunately, I had the good graces to get tossed in on a Thursday, not a Friday. Would’ve been a different story with all the drunks and amateur hooligans. Anyway, I went to sleep. I slept through breakfast, had half a bad baloney and cheese sandwich on white bread for lunch, and I slept some more.
I made the best use of my incarceration. Sleep. I knew I wasn’t going anywhere for a few hours, like, about 18, so I caught up on my sleep. Best of a bad situation. Due to a small problem with my paperwork, it was closer to 24 hours. Slept the whole time. When you’re faced with an inevitable situation — good lord, I’m not saying jail — make the most of the time. I once wrote a column on a smart phone. Same idea. Make the most of what you’ve got. Sleep is a good cure.
Taurus: I depend on daily interaction with humanity to give me a test of what the planets are like, that is, on any given day. This next few days, I’m avoiding Taurus. Ya’ll are all cranky. Not bad, just low-level irritation and short-tempered nature that’s not characteristic of my good little Taurus buddies. Friends. Clients. September. I’m still in sandals and shorts. No big deal. I’m still my casual self, but I was interacting with several Taurus folks. Stubborn. Not always a stubborn sign (I don’t care what other say about Taurus), I found several of you Taurus folks kind of stuck. Holding on. Holding tightly to an issue that no longer requires a firm grip. Makes you kind of cranky. If you want to be irritated, that’s fine. The problem occurs when I’m doing my “How’s Taurus today?” Question and answer. I get the sourness. I understand the planets’ array as a source of the problem. Change your attitude. Doing so changes everything. Or, if you choose, you can stay sour. You do that, and I’ll stay here and pout.
Gemini: While I tend to regard my fine little Gemini friends as veritable founts of wisdom, sometimes, accidental, and occasional, well-intentioned, there comes a time — attributed to Mark Twain — when a well-placed pause speaks volumes that can’t otherwise be conveyed. Pause. I didn’t say stop. I didn’t say a complete halt. Just pause. Not a complete stop, just a pause. Simple as that. It’s matter of giving yourself enough time to recollect all the facts and get the presentation ordered. Get the data in its correct location. Line up the proverbial ducks. Get your ducks in a row. Need to think about precision. Precise. Pause and give yourself a chance to get the material ordered in its delivery. Need to think through your presentation before you start talking. Pause. I didn’t say, “Stop,” just pause. Need to be precise.
Cancer: I was in a big store, a warehouse store, because I’m too cheap to pay full retail, and certain items, I just figure, it’s easier to buy by the pallet. Cell phone jiggles, and since I was just using it to check my shopping list, I answered. Regular client. Had weird, off-the-wall astrological question. Since I just looked at the charts that very morning, I could recite an answer off the top of my head. Do this long enough and certain patterns are easy to recall. Now the hard part, as I was pushing a shopping cart with a 50-pound bag of stuff, I wasn’t clipping along, and then, overhead, in the cavernous “store,” the intercom… “Clean-up to the bakery, please.” Kind of hard to charge for a consultation when, clearly, I’m not in the office. I did manage to juggle an accurate answer, precise communications, and extinguish a potential flame, all in one deft move. As a Cancer, you get called upon to do this, in the next few days. “Piss out a fire,” is the correct expression. Problem being, when they hear the bakery, or whatever, in the background, can’t charge for your time. Neither could I.
Leo: “Hey.” I heard the guy call me from across the street. Residential neighborhood. “Hey. HEY! I’m talking to YOU!” He approached me. Grizzled, gray at the temples, hair done in a single, loose braid down his back, nondescript shirt, might’ve been tan. He introduced himself, and I offered to shake hand, but he offered up a fist-bump, “I got diesel on my hands, been working on that truck…” It started out kind of harsh, that, “Hey, I’m talking to you,” call. But it warmed up nicely. He knew me. Knew of me. Wanted to meet me. Saw me traversing his neighborhood. Had no clue I was “That Kramer,” or that our interaction would wind up on a website. Leo, as in his birthday was last month. I was thinking about his original introduction. Let’s flip this around and make my Leo friends are getting this. You’re getting accosted. “Hey. Hey, HEY! Yeah, you, the Leo, THE LEO, yeah, I’m talking to you, don’t stop and look?” Stop and listen to the non-Leo minions who have a good message for you.