“More flowers I noted, yet I none could see
But sweet or colour it had stol’n from thee.”
Shakespeare’s Sonnet XCIX, 14-5
Gemini: Always do love the Shakespeare Sonnets. Good source of material, and whole academic libraries are filled with theories. Some claim it was all about mistress, some claim it was all about love for another man, some claim it was just straight romantic love. I’m not even going to touch the question of, “Who wrote Shakespeare?” That fills enough volumes, as it is. As a Gemini, though, I do have a simple suggestion. I read, back-to-back, a well-regarded ‘Shakespeare biography‘ and a critically acclaimed ‘Shakespeare conspiracy’ book. Books, one of each. Rather different conclusions, but given the scanty evidence, it’s all supposition, conjecture, and, most of all, myth. Follow me on this. Pick a topic, doesn’t have to be a favorite like mine, and read two opposing opinions. The further apart the opinions, the better. One topic, one topic near and dear to the Gemini heart, and then, read two pieces on the problem, the topic. One for, one against. Prepare to be enlightened this way. Two. Takes two. Two divergent opinions.
Cancer: It’s just such a perfect way to describe what happened. I was fishing with a buddy, and we were headed out, hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks. He picked me up at the dock, I tossed my poles and gear down in the boat, and we motored off. We were catching up as he eased out of the mariana then pulled the throttle back the three-quarters, blasting along at about 40 knots, not much wind, cool spring morning.
It was such a perfect example. He got animated in discussing — new girlfriend. I was listening. He was gesturing and talking a mile a minute, which was a little faster than we were moving, at 40 knots… Loud expletive. He slammed the throttle shut, and I was almost pitched forward, into the water. Good thing I wasn’t. While he was talking he veered to the port side when he should’ve stayed on the starboard side of the channel. We were in less than six inches of water. If I’d been pitched overboard, it would hurt. As it was, I hopped out and that floated the boat free, and we pushed it off the shallow bar.
Stick to one thing at a time. Romance? Sure, just remember, romance and water don’t mix. Or driving. Something like that. There’s a point to this, for Cancer.
The (mighty) Leo: While still the mightiest of the fire signs, Leo is a “fixed” sign. The caution as this week unfolds and rolls through the weekend and then, again, repeats into a next week? The biggest caution is about being stubborn. There are ways to get what you want and then, there are ways to just piss everyone off. While that second scenario does have merits, not like I can’t take credit myself, it doesn’t work. Not with the times being what they are. I kept seeing my Leo fishing buddy, he’d bait the hook, he was using a lure, and he would give it a spin. The fish were “boiling up” in this one spot. Nothing for him. He would refuse to change bait, though, and he would keep thrashing and whipping the water, and the fish were NOT biting. “But it’s a good lure, it worked before!” Fish are finicky, and what worked before might have to be changed. I didn’t ask The Leo to change anything but a lure. Just different bait. Willingness to try something new goes a long way to making this a much better time for your majesty.
Libra: There’s usually some rote material that needs to be repeated. I was tending to my electronic garden, domain, websites, material that needs an occasional electronic pruning, and I got into a loop where I had to type the same information, over and over, for about a dozen forms. Enter “copy & paste” as a solution. Quickest, easiest way to get it done? Type a name, then paste. Type another name, then paste. Type a third thing, hit the paste button again, and repeat as need be. Repetition can kill the creative juices. Typing that identical material, a dozen times or more? That really kills the buzz. Use the machine, use the Libra minions, use some technology to lessen the load.
Virgo: There is a very pronounced sense of the absurd that comes from living in Texas. Saw a perfect example the other afternoon, and regrettably, I didn’t get a picture. It was a Mini-Cooper. Not a big deal, lost of those, especially the newer versions. The “revised” version, be my guess. Not unusual. What was weird, not the British Flag motif, no, what was strange? Longhorns. There was a tiny set of faux cattle horns on the front bonnet (hood). We see, from time to time, real longhorns, the horns from cattle, stretched up to six feet, maybe more, across the hood of a suitable truck. One Cadillac in Austin has them, too, but on a Mini-Cooper? I laughed. It’s all about how you make a statement. That sense of the absurd? I was really tickled to see little horns on the little car, as an apparent homage to local color and local insanity. Sense of the absurd. Required to manage the Virgo week.
Scorpio: I stepped out of the bank building, downtown and slipped my earbuds back in. The song that cycled up was “Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun” (classic Pink Floyd). Where I used to bank, right next to the historic, now a tourist trap, market square? Conjunto music was lazily playing. Maybe Mariachi, I’m unsure, as I had earbuds in at the time. The Latin Rhythms, the Tex-Mex Conjunto, the accordion and horns leaked through the classic Pink Floyd. Made for an interesting mix, as this was bouncing around in my skull. The backdrop in my head? That made for a sharp, almost jarring and disturbing contrast. Instead, I was vaguely amused at the synchronistic musical elements and the relative flow. There are sharp, jarring aspects to this next few days. Especially when the Moon is in Scorpio, opposite Mr. Mars and on top of Saturn. This all, gradually subsides. Matter of time and distance. Don’t let the jarring aspects upset the delicate Scorpio senses. Some of this will pass, like that song, although, think about it, that Floyd classic is, like ten minutes long or something. Longer than usual, but it will pass. Enjoy the jarring, clashing aspects as a chance to see things differently.
Sagittarius: I don’t own any khaki pants, or shorts, so this won’t work for me. Living where I do, the khaki represents either parochial school, or, on less frequent occasions, military “business casual,” but the most common mistake with khaki? Looks like I works at a certain retail giant. Possibly two or three (four) months back, I switched to nothing but shorts and sandals, and I’ve stuck with that. My uniform, as much as I will have one. For many Sagittarius, jeans and T-shirt. The caution comes from branching out when it isn’t a good idea, like now. That khaki comment, comes from another friend, but the comment had to do with walking into a certain retail giant’s store and looking just like an employee. There’s a time to shift and change, ebb and flow, and sometimes, tried and true works. As a Sagittarius, we are masters of invention and loathe convention. As a Sagittarius, this isn’t really a week for invention and “branching out” — like trying on khaki.
Capricorn: In San Antonio’s long spring time, it began shortly after the New Year, the thematic party element carries forward. Towards that end, I have a number of local images of little banners and flags, all cut out for either New Year, the Rodeo, Spring Break, Easter, Fiesta, Cinco de Mayo, or whatever else is up next. Summertime? That’s here, really. The banners are still flapping and waving in the breeze. While they gay colors celebrate superficial, local events, nothing more, the shape, the location, and the predominance, all of that suggests, to me, the same presence as Tibetan Prayer Flags. I seem to be the only one who makes this little leap, the connection between prayer flags and local party banners. There’s a small, maybe a common element in your daily life. Something you see, seems common, oftentimes, overlooked? Notice it. The little paper banners, snapping in the light May breeze?
Aquarius: A friend handed me an iPhone. Older model. “Here, you have one these, fix mine.” I turned the phone over in my hand. One of my buddies, and he’s been fiddling with all the controls. I opened the setting, looked at a few things, scrolled through his voice mail briefly, pushed some reading glasses on top of my head, “So what have you tried so far?” He rattled off a few technical solutions. While he was rattling, I pretended to play with button on the screen. He doesn’t read my e-mail or text about lunch that day, I noticed that, and while he was still railing on how poor a product the old phone was, I quietly turned it off. Then I powered it back on. Once the welcome screen popped back up, I messed with one setting, and handed him back his phone. Fixed. Silly, old iPhone. Technical details: although properly called a “phone,” it is a small computer. With all the planets in Gemini? That’s just a few extra electrical jolts, current, electrons, whatever, loose inside the machine. I just used the oldest computer fix on the books: turn it off and then, back on. Aquarius can use a reboot. Like my buddy’s phone.
Pisces: Only people who are of a certain age will get this, and there’s a whole group of younger kids who don’t get it all.
Does it pass the 3-buy test?
Bought it once when it was an album (vinyl, 12-inch, with excellent artwork). Bought it once when it was CD, same cover, more durable, diminished cover art. Bought it as an mp3, totally digital.
The arguments, I’m not enough of audio person to say with all certainty, but the vinyl has a richer sound, unmatched by either CD or digital. Even digitally remastered. Not as good. I don’t know. I have a few albums used as artwork, framed and I own the CD for listening. Before you make a purchase, with Gemini weighing heavily in this mix, ask yourself if the — whatever it is you’re considering — thing makes the three-buy rule. Test.
Aries: I have one fishing lure, it’s not exactly a topwater lure, but it runs no more than six inches below the surface. “Bomber” is the name, I think. What’s important, though, isn’t the name, what’s important is the color. I’ve tried this, back to back, one was a “Tiger-Lily Stripe” pattern, orange with black stripes. The other was white. The white one caught all the fish. Same lure, same pattern, the only difference was the pattern painted on the lures. One was just stark white, and I can’t even remember the name for that. Shad? Minnow? No, minnow and baby trout have a pattern to them. No, it was just a white bomber. The other ones, with the fancy patterns? Don’t work inshore. But that one white one? Works quite well. This isn’t about some kind of discrimination, I’m just reporting which lure works. As an Aries, you can keep trying other colors, but you’ve found — like me — one combination, or even, in this example, a single color and design that works. Works well. Experiment if you like, but I suggest you stick with one color for now.
Taurus: The lingering effect of Mars, still lingering? It lingers around like a hint of fried meat, not an uncommon aromatic blend I get where I live. Stuck between two tacquerias, and with more food trucks than seems reasonable, I get that flash-fired smell, frequently. Searing, simmering meat, or meat-like product, maybe pork, possibly chicken, but certainly most frequently, it is a some kind of undistinguished skirt steak. Flank, skirt, tough brisket, something. It has a unique smell, too. Simmering, seared, on griddle, the hot comal, the aroma whets my appetite. However, like me, you’re stuck. I used to live between these two taco shacks. Great stuff. A ton of local color, local characters, and saucy food. Trying to discern which one was better? Tough call. There’s a duality to the week’s Taurus energy, split, as it were between two choices that both seem good. Figure out which way the wind is blowing. Then, figure out which one is letting out that special smell that we love so much. That’s how to determine which one is better. It’s matter of slight degrees, but there’s a tiny hint, look for it, that will indicate the most correct choice for Taurus. Follow your nose.