Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 4/25/2013

“Every man put himself into triumph; some to dance,
Some to make bonfires, each man to what sport
and revels his addiction leads him.”

Shakespeare’s Othello, the Moor of Venice [II.ii.1]

Taurus: I’ve had the most bizarre fishing experiences around Full Moons. Some good, some great, some horrific. The horrible one? Two buddies and me, we arranged a trip, and the timing was wrong. Everything went wrong. Mangled communications, tangled lines, irritable girlfriends, missed fish, and worse, barely took home enough fish for one meal together. Again, part of the problem. Other times? On two other trips, the Full Moon fishing was nothing short of excellent. Caught more than we could keep, had fun, was tired and sunburned by noon.

Twice it was great, and once it was awful. One time, it was really big fish on lightweight gear, and that was a good challenge as well as an excellent day fishing. You get to pick and choose, as a Taurus. Saturn opposes Mars in the coming days. Pick and choose. Fun, wonderful, or awful? You pick and choose.

Gemini: Try explaining to your accountant why I’ve got two Tex-Mex meals, back-to-back as expenses in my own town. It was a taste test. Simple question, and I’m sure a fun Gemini will have the answer, “Do orange (‘red’ corn) chips taste different from regular corn chips?”

The qualitative answer? No. In taste testing, the red chips, or even, in this one case, the red corn tortilla, tortillas as I had two of them, taste the exact same as a regular corn chips or regular corn tortillas.

However! But Wait! There’s More! In blind tests, reasonably scientific, the two taste exactly the same. The difference is appearance. The red ones taste better. I’m sure there’s a plausible scientific explanation, perhaps the arcane arts of psychology can explain it. In the dark? No difference in flavor. In the harsh light of the restaurant’s fluorescent glow? “The red ones taste better.” As a Gemini, you’re goal is to explain why they taste better when they are red. They do, you know.

Eclipse Notes.
Eclipse action.

Cancer: There was a link, from a supposedly business website, that showed how sitting, for hours on end, is bad and causes problems. Stop and think, that article was probably written by someone, not unlike me, who — by necessity — spends a portion of each day, seated, in front of a computer. Which, according to the author, is bad for the shoulders, spine, gizzards, guts, legs, just about every part of the body. I rarely spend more than an hour at a time, seated. I get impatient. I have developed a stronger constitution. I also get up, move around, and when I’m talking on the phone, there is usually much arm waving. It’s about activity. That one article, I think they sold yoga mats, but the graphics showed faulty circulation, problems with posture, skin conditions and so forth, all from just sitting in front of computer. The simplest cure is movement. Get up and move around. I rarely sit for more than 20 minutes, I have to get up to change the song, get coffee, pee because I’ve been drinking coffee, get water, and the cycle gets repeated. But that’s me. As a Cancer, you’re liking my idea of not sitting for more than 20 minutes at a time. Helps with the way you’ve been feeling. You can always say, “The doctor ordered.”

The (mighty) Leo: Girl in a coffee shop — Leo — “hello” to the morning crew, anyway, this one Leo, she looked up at me, I was going fishing. Slightly haggard look to her, somewhat haunted. Does the morning nod, then I hear the milk and coffee being prepared. Four shots of espresso, then it is supposed to be one-third milk and one-third foam, but I like just a dollop of milk, skim milk, and the rest foam. Leo, expertly prepared.

She nodded to me after the cash transaction, then closed with a, “Have a good evening.” She looked up. “Fishing?” I nodded, although, from my attire and my buddy’s attire, our destination was pretty obvious. Besides, we were the first in the store. 6 AM and I’m told to have a good evening? Someone had too much fun. Good thing I’m an understanding soul. If nothing else seems to work, in the early AM, as the mighty Leo? Wish them all a good evening.

Virgo: In one of the Muppet’s Xmas movies, there’s a seminal line from Kermit. “If we all pull together, we can do anything!” Problem: is Kermit an Aries, or a Taurus, as both are reported? As a nice Virgo, guess what Kermit’s comment means for you? You — Virgo — are singularly charged with getting everyone to work together towards that common goal. Here’s the deal, you’re going to have to be a little tricky. It’s a matter of setting smaller, easier to reach goals for your Virgo team, just slicing the big deal up into smaller parts, and make each one seem like the only thing we’re going to do together. It’s all about how you motivate. Big deal, big goals, not easily obtained? Smaller, more manageable goals, much easier to get to, that’s the secret. You’ll find, I know, it’s almost May, what does that have to do with a puppet frog? His line, “If we all pull together, we can do anything!” That’s correct. Now, let’s get this organized. That’s one of your skills.

Libra: “Man, I thought you’d be there! Maybe the official, you know?” Libra (coastal) fishing buddy, telling me about a cousin’s Marker Seven marriage. Along the coastal waterway, there’s a particular spot that is well-suited to a bunch of fishing boats tied up to a marker, obviously, Marker Seven, and it’s a not uncommon spot for weddings. Have to be my kind of people to get married at Marker Seven. I know two couples that it would work for. I know two more couples that got married there.

Me? I always figured to get married at the Bass Pro Shop in Las Vegas, under canopy of fishing poles, by Elvis. Not the same. But close enough.

The notion of marriage, or even just partnership in general, the location of the service, all of this plays into what’s going in your Libra head. You have to admit a sunrise or sunset service, along the inter-coastal, like at (mile) Marker Seven, that does sound good, doesn’t it? You should be there. I thought you’d be there. (Hint: see this Taurus.)

Scorpio: Modified from George Bernard Shaw, “There are two great tragedies in life, one is when you don’t get what you want and the second is when your enemy gets what you want.” I made that one up. Modified from the original, so to speak. As a Scorpio, I’d suggest that one of those tragedies will befall you this next few days. Part of this is a function of Saturn and mostly it’s a function of Mars and Venus in Taurus, on the opposite side of the wheel from you. It’s also one of those deals, maybe what you devoutly wished for, and what befalls your competitor, maybe that isn’t such a bad thing. Some of the best results might wind up being not getting what you thought you wanted.

Sagittarius: It’s an ongoing debate, and if I must tell the truth, I don’t own “real” shoes. I have cowboy boots, three pair or so, maybe four or five pairs, and sandals. Mostly just Piper Sandals but some sport sandals as well, and then there’s the issue with long pants, and I don’t like wearing long pants, at all.

In the coming week, there will be one situation that will call for me to pull on my “Big Boy” pants. Along with that, I’ll wear boots. It’s formal dress for a state occasion. I am perfectly capable of dressing like an adult. I don’t like it, and I’ve fashioned my life in such a manner that I don’t have to do this often, but there are times when getting all dressed up is important. I don’t get it; I thought we were supposed to be concerned with what was intrinsic in a person’s worth, not the window dressings. In some business settings, few and far between for me, this isn’t always the case. Be prepared, like me, to make sacrifice in order to get the task accomplished. Like me, wearing the (stupid) “grown-up” clothes for an evening.

Capricorn: Here’s the tip — “I’ve got it on my list of things I need to get done.” That’s it. Super-simple. Not complicated. You can use that line, over and over, in this next few days. You’re coasting. Or you should be coasting, just gliding, right along, no friction, no problems, and everyone giving you a high-five. Since that’s not what this feels like? I’ve got a tip, “I’ve got it on my list of things I want to get done.”

There’s an important element in that phrase I’m giving you, as a mantra, as a response, as a tip to get through these days, fraught with other peoples’ troubles and what-all. There is no set time limit. Very important consideration. That phrase has to be used just like I’ve spelled it out, word-for-word. You’re going to make an attempt to het to that list, just leave the time-frame open. That helps with the sliding, gliding, frictionless approach that befits you on this fine spring day. “Iv’e got it on my list of things that should get done.”

Aquarius: The Alameda Theatre in downtown San Antonio, was, when it was first opened, a miracle of modern design. Along the then-very busy Houston Street, part of thriving and vibrant downtown arts district, it was a piece of art, the building, unto itself. “Art Moderne Streamlined,” is the style. The faded marquis still bears some of that style, and it has a remarkable influence, during the up-and-down life-cycle of downtown art districts. For a spell, I would pass that old theatre’s marquis almost daily. I liked the swooping, brushed aluminum lines, the ornate neon lightening, and the way it was depicted as “moderne.” Pretty retro and sadly elegant in its relative disuse, and I’m sure some civic leader will prop it up, one more time. Makes for an interesting photo target, too. I think of Aquarius as “streamlined art moderne,” too. With the material in both Taurus and Scorpio, but mostly the Taurus influence, there’s a matter of taste that’s come up. Old is new. Don’t be afraid to recycle. Old stuff looks cool, you know, like, “streamlined art moderne.”

Pisces: Coffee lines are where it’s at. “Coffee lines?” What was her name? The lady with the percolator? The husband always had a second cup of coffee? That’s what this is like. Or that guy from Columbia? The coffee guy? What was his name? Unlike other signs, right now, Pisces is “hand-picked and fresh-brewed,” which means, you’re all perky. The only problem? After the full moon, no one else is “perky.” Grouchy would be a better way to describe the other signs. So, to get through this next week? Channel up a few old coffee commercials. Regrettably, I haven’t seen anything recently that really works. Come up with a vintage coffee ad to explain how you feel. Helps when you can repeat that to the rest of us.

Aries: I like grits. I’m southern, at least half of me is, and I was raised in a portion of Texas that believes it belongs to the South. That means, I was raised with Southern Culture, and the byproduct of that? I like grits. Not a big deal. It’s a corn meal, often bleached and sometimes, when I was growing up, the little dark spots were bugs, weevils, that got into the meal. Crunchy, high in protein. The bugs, maybe not the grits. The grits themselves, they are largely flavorless, and take their hue, essence, and other characteristics from what’s around them. Bacon grease, lard, butter, or me, with a pile of brown sugar on mine? Garlic cheese grits, got an old family recipe for those, too. Good stuff. Notice the flavor isn’t derived from the hominy itself, it’s the stuff around it that makes the difference.

As an Aries, what does this mean? Next couple of days, from now until next week? Derive your special Aries flavor from the stuff around you.

Me? I like grits.