Horoscopes by Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 10.11.2012

“The augurer tells me we shall have news tonight.”
Menenius in Shakespeare’s Two Noble Kinsmen (Act 2, Scene 1)

Get comfortable. Saturn is in Scorpio.

Libra: I don’t think I should break into show tunes, but I kept thinking of a single riff, a line from a song, something about “tradition!” Not traditional, not pertaining to a single tradition, but “Tradition!”

There’s an emphasis on a tradition in Libra that must be followed. And must we always honor that tradition? Consider, like, around here, a fishing buddy — through his namesake alone — claims title to lands from a Spanish Land Grant. Specious, at best. Same name, but, in fact, his family arrived in the area in the last century. Hardly traceable to a real land grant. Fun conversation, and with my buddy, it’s an ongoing tradition. For Libra, it’s an ongoing tradition. Honor the old ways. Pay respects to the way things were done, back whenever.

“I know, right?”

Scorpio: I’ve wandered around the American Southwest for most of my life. I’ve had sojourns elsewhere, but the bulk of my existence has been spent in Texas, with forays and extended stays in both New Mexico and Arizona. The desert southwest. Barren lands. Not much rain. Scorpio is a water sign.

I enjoy my time in the desert, especially the high desert. I have an appreciation for the dry, desiccated landscape. Scorpio, a water sign? Yes. Drought? Saturn? Yes. Resolutions that will help? As long as Saturn is going to be poking you, riding you, and making a nuisance of himself? Develop that appreciation. Like me, there’s a certain appreciation that comes from time spent in the harsh, dry climate. Saturn is going to make you feel like you’re living in a desert. It’s not all bad, it’s matter of learning to adjust to what’s there. Find the beauty. It was one October, one year, not unlike this, when I happened upon a late-blooming Ocotillo scene. The Saturn desert has beauty, just look for it.

Sagittarius: I’ve been accused of heckling clients. I’ll see someone I recognize, and for the life of me, I can’t recall a name. But I do know the sign, usually. I am Sagittarius. But you knew that. Gregarious, outgoing, and occasionally, a bit brash and corrosive. I don’t intend to be. Just comes across that way. Happened again, the other day I was gushing and the business deal didn’t require my gushing, I came across as rude and over-bearing.

As Saturn makes egress into Scorpio, I’ll have to tone down the heckling. The gregarious and outwardly outgoing manner, a frequent Sagittarius trait? Smile. Act polite. Say, “Yes ma’am,” and “no sir.” Maybe tone it down a bit. Less heckling. It’s that darn Saturn in Scorpio.

“I know, right?”

Capricorn: “My daughter started dating this guy, then she called me up to complain, ‘I’m dating a Kramer!’ You know, a Sagittarius from Austin!” I figure there was a roll of the eyes, or something like that. Some non-verbal punctuation. Glad to know that I’m iconic enough to be an icon. Did that even make sense?

I listen, or I try to listen, when folks talk. I’ve also found that it’s harder to keep listening at a certain point. Then, too, it’s hard to live up to my reputation. If I believed everything that’s been said about me, then I’d be richer, taller, more handsome and little better off. Can’t believe everything you hear. Can’t believe everything I say, either. The open statement, “I’m dating a Kramer,” that was accurate, word-for-word. After that? It’s this totally weird influence from Saturn — your planet, Capricorn — entering sneaky Scorpio. Less secrets. More Sagittarius flavored honesty and brashness. Sort of.

“I know, right.”

Aquarius: There’s a mythological (not really) old coot of a Scorpio, Will Rogers, cowboy and poet, and one his quotes? A favorite of mine? “There are three kinds of men. The one that learns by reading. The few who learn by observation. The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence for themselves.”

Learn by reading, my fine Aquarius friend. Learn by observation. The more painful, tried and true, but painful nonetheless methods — those systems work, but they’re painful. I’m here to prevent the pain.

Scorpio has Saturn. Scorpio is fixed. Fixed Water, as a point. Aquarius is Air. Fixed Air, as a signature. This next few days, watch, as this Scorpio influence is long-term, but you get a chance to read. You get a chance to observe. A few of you? Might be tempted to pee on the electric fence. Let me know if that works out for you.

“I know, right?”

Pisces: I was sure my little friend was joking when she told me about a kind of music that combined the traditional music and instruments of Mexico (think: Mariachi) with the more modern ‘sampled’ music, i.e., ‘techno.’ The more traditional music is called “Norteno,” with the new version nicknamed, “Nortechno.” (I can’t work in the correct accent marks because that typography chokes the web browsers.) I can’t even make this stuff up.

I ran across several version of the sample, house-style techno, deep trance material, done by ‘Mexican’ bands. Groups. The better material from the borderlands, it would combine both musical styles, and it would also blend the languages, getting both English and Spanish worked into the mix. To be true to the area, I would guess a little of the native language should be included, but they didn’t ask me. What I took to be a joke was a serious sub-sub-genre of music. What I thought was humorous, was really serious.

Joking? Or serious this week?

“I know, right?”

Aries: What’s the path of least resistance? Which way is the simplest, most direct route? Valid questions. What’s the simplest way to answer the question? I can use a phone to watch movies. I can do much with a phone, and I have, in fact, in a pinch, used a phone to write horoscope. A single sign, and not Aries, not this week, because, face it, a phone isn’t the best tool for the job. It can be done, but like watching a movie on the phone, it’s not the easiest, simplest, or most expedient. Perhaps it was the most expedient at one time, but now? I prefer a device with more screen real estate. Some things are cool. Some things are cool, just because they’re cool, but not always practical. Like watching a movie on the phone. Yes, it can be done, but this isn’t the time, or place, for such actions. Before you charge out of here, stop. Think. Is this the best way, the best tool, the most correct way to handle this situation? Movies, on a phone? Really?

“I know, right?”

Taurus: There’s something to be said for the Zen, Taoist approach to life and material belongings. There’s something to be said for the monk-like existence I triumphed for years.

There’s some to the koan, “Less is more.”

There’s a strong message for Taurus, time to clean out the old tackle box and get on with it. I have fishing poles for almost every conceivable situation, and I even have two and three poles for several types of fishings. Part of what defines me. I’m getting to the point where I need one pole instead of three. When I lived on the lake, it was easy to keep more than two identical poles rigged with different baits. Now, however, storage is more of a premium, and I don’t need three of everything. It’s a gradual winnowing process, what’s good, what’s not good, what is needed, what isn’t needed. Time to start assessing what your Taurus self is willing to let go of. I traded one of my triplicate poles for almost unlimited access to a local lake. See how that trimming excess works to our Taurus advantage? Less is more.

“I know, right?”

Gemini: Japanese/TexMex fusion cuisine? Sure, not that unusual, now is it? The ad was for a Mexican breakfast hand roll. I’m thinking, what it looked like, a breakfast taco, cut up and rolled in rice with that seaweed wrapper. Sushi meet breakfast taco.

Place I saw this? Never mind. I don’t think the place lasted that long because the experimental was too much for the local populace. That’s what I’m thinking, too, for Gemini. You’ve got some great ideas. Might want to test them on someone besides me. I’m not exactly a paragon and fount of good taste. If I think it looks good, if I think it tastes great, might not want to consider making a decision based on my flavor choices. Style. I thought the material was perfect together, Mexican, rather, Texmex, and Japanese. The place is no longer around. Don’t get me wrong, you have many wonderful ideas, but putting them all in action, now? Based on my “liking” it?

“I know, right?”

Cancer: I started making catfish bait, back when I lived in Austin. Really good catfish bait is nasty stuff. Various animal parts, ripe with a certain sulfurous aromatic blend, some kind of suet or other material to hold it all together, and the stuff is just nasty. With catfish bait? Nastier is better. Them old, whiskered fellows love the stinky stuff. I had a ring of shrimp, regular, supermarket cocktail shrimp, that somehow went bad before I ate it. Catfish bait. I salted those dead shrimp down and tossed them in the freezer. A year later, I remembered the bait, and I took it to the coast. Good for surf fishing as well as bottom fishing the Red Drum, Black Drum. Excellent for Tourist Trout, too.

While I was originally just making catfish bait, I discovered — from noodling on the inter-webs and listening to old fishermen — that I had something that would work. No expensive bait, do not buy the latest greatest scent that fish crave. Dig around in the Cancer ice-box. Look at that sealed tupperware thing. Or sealed plastic bag. Don’t be afraid to reuse old material instead of spending money to get something fresh. The latest and greatest? Might not be as effective as old “tried and true.” Stick with known stuff that works; it might even come from the Cancer’s ice-box. Or freezer.

“I know, right?”

Leo: when I first started writing horoscopes, I heard a number of clients who wanted to “Write a book.” A novel, perhaps a self-help book, perhaps tell-all, or memoir? Gradually, that idea shifted to screen play, to documentary to movie deal, and now it’s back. The next month has the “write a novel in a month” flavor. Perfect for a Scorpio time. As a Leo? Get a jump on the deal, now. Get started, now. “But I need: background, research, an editor, blah-blah-blah.” Lame, sad excuses. If you heard them, as often as I’ve heard them? You’d realize thee are sad, tired, over-wrought and basically, it’s nothing more than good Leo procrastination. I’m a big fan of “Never do today what we can put off until next week!” That’s not working. Not now, not for the next couple of years. Get a running start on this project for next month. Go on, I know you can do it. See what it’s like to make effort and then turn out usable verbiage, over and over, every day.

“I know, right?”

Virgo: I’m on a Zen kick — sorry about that. I keep thinking of the Virgo mind, the Virgo world, as envisioned by that Virgo mind, I keep seeing it like one of those little Zen gardens. Popular a few years ago, sort of a metaphysical hand-toy for the adults, it was nothing more than a baggy of white sand, a few pebbles, a black frame sandbox, and usually a little wooden rake. Really not much to it. Cost was high at first, but then the market fell apart as there were just too many. Last time I saw one, it was a pocket version, and I’m sure there’s a digital version, too. Whatever works. I had a cat who would think it was a litter box, I mean, a box with sand? Not a far reach for even a stupid cat, and that cat was one reason I never enjoyed a real Zen garden. This isn’t about rushing out to purchase the latest craze in metaphysical, philosophical marketing. This about the Zen-Garden of the Virgo mind.

Less is more, my fine Virgo friend. Unless we’re fishing.