Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 7.26.2012

“This is a piece of malice.”
Shakespeare’s King Henry VIII [V.ii.7]

No, it is not really a piece of malice, but this Mercury Retrograde might feel that way. The Leo: I worked with one astrologer who posited the theory that the worst of the Mercury Retrograde period is over when the Sun passes Mercury. Over years, I’ve tested this theory. Sort of works, but then, that’s when Mercury is Retrograde in some other sign. In Leo? Punctuated by an up and coming Full Moon? No, we are not over the worst of it. There’s a collective groan from the Leo Group (TM). I’m not going to make up stories and tell you it’s better this week. That’s a real disservice. I’ve left plenty of clues about how to deal with Mercury Retrograde woes, and that’s what this is about. Your Royal Leo Self will be inconvenienced by this, of that I am sure. How bad you let this get to you? I’ve warned you so there’s no need to let this get you. Get to you. Virgo: Always did love the sensual side of Virgo. Aesthetes, but not in the normal way. Brainy without being too intellectual. Not that the average Virgo doesn’t try, and if you’re reading this, then there is nothing “average” about you. Mercury is Retrograde in Leo.

That means this Mercury Retrograde period seems to be about dredging through your Virgo mind, the portions of the brain that you thought you forgot about, and then, what gets turned over in this plow-like furrows of the Virgo brain?

Problems. Problems with no solutions. Unresolved angst. Errors and forgotten issues that are no longer forgotten.

This is exceedingly fertile ground, if you play it right. If you don’t get sucked under and overwhelmed with the mental processes. Don’t think too much. Turn it over in your mind, once. That’s all. Mercury is Retrograde, remember how that messes with your Virgo head? Libra: I lived out of suitcase, or out of a backpack, for several years running. Travelled so much I thought a suitcase was home for a spell.

I don’t get around as much, not anymore.

However, I’m still adapted to that kind of lifestyle. Most of my shirts are wrinkled. Look like they came out of a suitcase. Looks like I did it like that on purpose. Part of the issue is I don’t own an iron, and I like wrinkled just fine. The other part of that wrinkled shirt equation is that I tend towards loud print and bright colors, especially in the summer time, so the wrinkles are not noticeable. Not so noticeable. It’s about trying to get that last wrinkle out.

Worry about it now? No, there isn’t time. Got other things to do. Most Libra folks hate to show up with anything out of place. Way it goes, this week. Although, in my defense, the wrinkled look? I’ve almost got that trademarked.

Scorpio: I watched as an early morning bicyclist made his way to work. He crossed against a red light and while it wasn’t really close, he timed his illegal entrance to the intersection properly, there was a passing car. Had to honk. The bicyclist, younger male, had on jeans and yellow safety vest, he saluted. He made the universal single digit gesture. While it was lost in the pre-dawn twilight, I saw it. I doubt the car driver who was rude, I seriously doubt that person saw the intended gesture, but the sentiment was certainly there.

The rude honking, the bicycle rider, everything. Mars, Mercury, everything where it is? As a good Scorpio, you’re like that bike rider in the night, in the dark. It’s illegal, but you get away with it. Make sure you save that final gesture, the final salute? Make sure you save that for after you’ve made it through the light and are safely on the other side, out of harm’s way.

Sagittarius: I love and hate speaking from the podium. Most of the venues I’ve worked, there’s some type of speaking lectern. For a while, I took great pride in pointing out that I didn’t speak from behind the podium, I didn’t hide behind the little stand, or whatever that thing is is called.

One hotel’s room, it was nothing more than half of a desk resting on the conference room table. Always fun, speaking from a half-assed attempt at a speaker’s podium. Stepping out from behind the stand, the microphone, stepping into a position where I’m in full view of the audience? I always hoped that broke down the barrier.

With the current Mercury in disarray, we’re looking at breaking down the communication barriers, breaking through the glass ceiling and understanding that it will take twice as long. Venus, in Gemini. Gemini influence, twice as much, twice as long, twice as many obstacles to come out from behind. Like the podium, lectern, microphone stand.

Capricorn: Capricorn buddy of mine called to complain, “You know I love you like a brother, but, you know I don’t buy into that astrology hokum, right?” I made agreement noises. Nothing new here for me.

Mercury is like the local drainage ditches. Been bone dry near all summer, and we get a tiny flood of rain? Swells and cuts off communications, motorists are stranded, and the problems go on and on. When it floods, and I think it was less than an inch of rain which, in some places this is laughable. Here? The city is stricken. Frozen. Part of this is squalid infrastructure is built on age-old cow-paths.

Is it the planet Mercury or is it the weather and bad urban planning? Regular as can be, something showed up to interfere with my buddy’s day. I can blame Mercury, and you can’t blame anyone if you weren’t prepared for the Mercurial issues. Like rain. Wasn’t even that much rain.

Aquarius: When Mercury is retrograde in a sign that is opposite from your good Aquarius self, there will be problems. How you decide to deal with these issues, that’s a personal choice. Think, though, it’s not like this snuck up on you, and it’s not like you weren’t warned. I was sitting in the audience, continuing education seminar, and the speaker was about to take the stage. A mobile phone chirped. Sounded like a text message on an iPhone. It’s annoying, and worse? I stopped and started to look at my own phone. There is a simple solution to this week’s Aquarius conundrum. Put the phone on silent. Put it on vibrate. Pisces: This will rub some people wrong, but I never claimed to be politically correct, besides, this is a Texas joke. Mexican auto-repair kit? Jumper cables. The myth and the joke, if it is a joke, is based on the number of times — I was raised in East Texas — when there would be a Latino standing beside a stranded motorist, with a pair of jumper cables in hand.

Between San Antonio and Austin, on the freeway, guaranteed to see it at least twice in a single trip. As a Pisces, you’re usually immune to such problems. As a Pisces, this usually doesn’t happen to you. However, and here’s another sordid revelation, I dated one girl because she had jumper cables in her trunk. Car trunk, like, all prepared and everything. Impressed me with her apparent mechanical ability and thoughtful preparedness. I’m warning you, might not be a jumper cables, but there’s a fairly common element, tool, something you just figure you need? Might be wise to carry that item, now.

Like a Leatherman and Jumper Cables.

Aries: The scene, a vegan restaurant, near me. Vegan: no meat products AT ALL. No dairy. The couple, male and female, alt-looking, with an interesting tattoo visible on her upper arm, and then, the shirt? Her shirt was a fine, a dark western cut yoke shirt with the sleeves artfully removed. Her t-shirt? Lubbock (Texas) Roller Derby, “Blood on the Flat Track.”

I made note of the team’s name, but I don’t have that now. West Texas Roller Derby. It’s a violent, sexist sport. The amount of ink, including a chest piece that was poking above her shirt? Violent imagery. Blood. Mayhem. Vegan Restaurant. What was odd, was, it wasn’t really odd. I think she skates locally, and I’m pretty sure one of the other girls from that place skates, too. As a vegan, militantly “green” kind of place, I had to wonder about the roller girls, not eating meat. I had the impression, from the artwork, they all dined on the flesh of the weak. Mercury Retrograde.

Taurus: I walked out to go to the mailbox. I dropped a reading (envelope with a CD, charts, etc.) in the mail slot and then? I kept on going. I left my phone, wallet, everything behind. I didn’t realize until I was about halfway to coffee that I didn’t have a wallet, no way to pay for an afternoon libation. However, for close to an hour I was totally disconnected from the electronic world — my world — for almost a whole hour.

No client phone calls. No client e-mails. Bubba wasn’t on FaceBook trying to find out if Mercury was still retrograde — it is. The secret to calm in this storm?


My example was entirely inadvertent. Didn’t do it on purpose. My mistake brought an hour of relief, although, I wished I’d remembered some money, or a card, or something so I could score a drink. Hot summer’s day and all. The trade-off was worth it, though, an accident that paid off with tranquility and peace. Disconnect.

Gemini: While I’v encountered this attire in places like Dallas, Ft. Worth and El Paso, the look is best in a dance hall in Central Texas. Think: Austin. Or San Antonio. It’s a little sun dress and cowboy boots with one variation being short-shorts and boots. It’s usually better if the boots are vintage. Worn, second or third-hand, tooled leather that’s cracked and faded with the fancy uppers, stitching and piping and color. Works best on young females. Doesn’t work on old guys like me, I show up in surf shorts and cowboy boots? I look like a clown.

I look like a clown rather often, but not due to my sartorial choices. This is about properly combining elements that do, or don’t, fit together. On the correct woman, I’ve seen the boots work quite well as an accessory to the dress. However, in the wrong setting, like on me, combined with the aforementioned surf jams? Not a good look.

Here’s the catch, you are not presently a good judge of whether or not, “It looks good.” Just ask. Ask several people. Ask several other people besides yourself, I mean. Poll the population to get an answer.

Cancer: I thought that I always wanted a special kind of coffee table, one that had a glass top over a box. Something built to display my collection of tarot cards, actually. What I thought I wanted. I finally got one, only, it was really too big, then there’s the persistent issue with spilled beverages leaking around the edges and seeping onto the precious treasures under the glass. Then, too, this was when I lived in a trailer in South Austin, and the trailer wasn’t that large.

The coffee table dominated the space, perhaps dominated a little too much. Careful about decisions that might be long-lasting, and make sure you both measure and compare before making a big-ticket furniture purchase. Instead of a purchase? Might want to buy some time.

“But it’s on sale!”

Might be a reason why that item is on sale.

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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  • Sarah Smith Jul 28, 2012 @ 15:29

    So that’s why when I went to the store this morning early, bought two heads of lettuce, two loaves of bread, two packages of cheese. And a partridge in a pear tree.