Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 1.16

“All that I have to say, is, to tell you that the lanthorn
is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this thorn-bush, my
thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog.”
Shakespeare’s A Midsummer’s Night’s Dream [V.i.238]
Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 1.16

Capricorn: Little things matter. It’s not big things, it’s the little things. One Capricorn singer/songwriter, he’s got a song about that. Missed his birthday last week. With the current planets thusly arrayed, I cannot stress this enough, it’s the little things that matter most. Bold. Italic. Underline. Double underline. Really bold. Maybe, even, all caps? Little things. Small, minute, seemingly insignificant details, tiny, almost microscopic, that kind of detail. The littlest of minutiae. Pay attention to the details. After all, “God is in the details.” Dating too many Virgo will do that to a feller. The point is, while everyone else is still making noise about big stuff? Look for the details. Look for the message in the small stuff. “Even in the fineprint?”

Aquarius: Middle of the weekend, Sun bumps into Aquarius. Happy Birthday! Yee-Haw! Party! I’ve often noted that Aquarius folks seem to feel a little out of step with whatever is considered, well, for lack of better word, “Normal.” I once did a t-shirt graphic, “I may be weird, but in this town? Who can tell?” Nominally, that was for Austin, but could be any place I travel.

There’s a disconnected, syncopated, unreliable beat that sets the tone for the beginning of Aquarius. Not bad, just not very even. Rhythm with no beat. Atonal. Out of sync with whatever everyone else considers in sync. This isn’t too bad, not for the typical (atypical) Aquarius, but there is a challenge with it.

Out of sync and in step? Therein is the Aquarius challenge.

Pisces: Give it enough time, and the truth will come out. That expression, “The truth will out?” First shows up in the English language in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice (2,2). I was using Midsummer’s Night’s Eve in general, but the more I drilled into the Pisces material, more I kept hearing a variation on that theme, basically, that expression, over and over. The side-bar item, the phrase originated, was interjected, was first recorded, in the English language, in Shakespeare’s play. As a quote, as a theme, as a point to hang your Pisces week on? The truth will come out, eventually. I can’t make this happen overnight. I can’t make this happen right away. If you’re hiding something, better brush up on the stories, alibis, and cover-ups. If you’re waiting on the truth to set you free? Almost any day now.

Aries: Stop what you’re doing. Stop.

Right now, stop. You’re part of a “thing” that’s an ongoing astrological “condition.” Stop moving. You’re moving and no one else is keeping up with you. Stop. While there’s usually an unrestrained “Go-Go-Go” to Aries? Given the Cardinal crossing of the planets? That means, there’s a huge amount of unattached, free-floating anxiety, and it’s looking for a problem to exploit, and that means? That means stop. Don’t give up an Aries target. Moving targets, notoriously hard to hit? Moving targets attract attention.

Stop. Simple directions. Just stop.

Taurus: “Kramer, if you can’t pronounce it, then you can’t have it.” My host, little town in West Texas, along the border. TexMex is a specialty with me, as I was raised on it. TexMex is comfort food. Maybe the point needs no elaboration, but there’s a difference between Mexican Food and TexMex. Not a sticking point for me, as I understand the differences. The place we were in, it was more TexMex than Mexican, but I’m not going to quibble with locals about nomenclature and food taxonomy, especially, not before a meal. It was a shredded beef dish, and I’ve never seen that name on the menu before. Instead of mangling the language, with some words, expressions, and languages I’m usually good enough, but I wasn’t about to abuse and amuse my host. I had to take a pass on that dish, although, the word was sounded out for me. No shredded beef for breakfast. Go with the safe stuff, something I can pronounce. Less chance of intestinal discomfort, too. Looked good, whatever it was. As a Taurus, this isn’t the week to be adventuresome.

If you can’t pronounce it? Better stay away from it.

In Mexico? TexMex is “American” food.

Gemini: I was daytime fishing, middle of the afternoon, and the conventional wisdom on that one lake is to use dark-hued plastic baits for bass. Black bass, dark colored baits, all works best. That’s the usual thinking, and over years, with the explosion of bass fishing forums, this litany has been carried forward. “Only thing productive is dark, black with sparkles, maybe, but always a dark plastic.” Check out the Austin Bass Fishing Forums, all say the same thing. I was short of time, and I didn’t grab a new package of dark baits. I pulled out my old Austin Go To bait of bright chartreuse. Pictures, on the web someplace, look for my name, and you’ll find images of me with two undersized bass, and one big old lunker, well, not that big, but big enough. In one picture, there’s the bright plastic worm hanging about halfway up the line. The point is to try something different. As a Gemini, with all the uncomfortable energy floating free and unattached? Try something different. Do it differently. Fly in the face of convention.

Cancer: Buddy of mine was telling about his first trial run with a new boat and its new motor. “Think the problem was the gas tank,” he was explaining, after having to call for a Sea Tow, drag him and his new boat back to the shore. “I mean, I checked it, had some fuel in the tank when we left,” he said, by way of an explanation, “but that 150 burns a lot more than I thought.” It was a fuel problem: no gas in the motor. Internal combustion motors, even boats, run better with gas in the tank. Adequate fuel supply. Before you launch this week? Check the fuel levels. “Yeah, the problem was the gas tank,” as in, “it was empty.” There’s a Moon-Child cure for that, you know.

The (mighty) Leo: I went to see a certain local performer do his bit on stage. (REK at the Majestic, details elsewhere.) Sitting in the theater, a few minutes before the show, the guy sitting next to me, sipping on a plastic cup filled with beer, he drawled, glancing around, “I think I’m the only one in here not in boots.” Affable older chap, semi-retired rancher, living the good life in one of the outer suburbs/nearby country town, and that definition depends on one’s orientation. To me? Suburb. To him? Living in the country. No boots, though. “Wore riding boots all day, couldn’t see pulling them back on, besides,” and that launched the conversation in a different direction. I’ve made observations about boots, cowboy boots to be specific, and how this is part of my culture. Fun to be someplace where the old guy notices that everyone is in boots. As the majestic Leo, it’s OK to step outside of the “norm,” whatever that may be, especially during the time in the next few days. For some, that means not bowing to convention. Or, like that guy next to me, not wearing boots. For me? My boots are exceedingly comfortable, and almost like slippers, so it’s not an issue.

Virgo: Practice the “Rock Star” entrance. I’ve long perfected the rock star exit, as I leave a venue for the night, I’ll hold my hands aloft, “Thank you Austin*, and Good Night!” Usually an empty hall, but doesn’t matter, the sentiment is there. Hands aloft, the fans all clapping? Yeah, well, it really isn’t like that for me, but this isn’t about me, this is about your Virgo self. Perfect the Rock Star Entrance, for yourself. Different Virgo people will want different entrances, but the idea, from flash pots and pyrotechnics to whatever you envision as your grand entrance? Practice, envision, and see it happening. Next? The walk that goes with it. Don’t just walk into a room, walk with purpose, walk like, like you own the stage and this is the crowd, all here to see you.

Presence. Make yourself known. Walk like a rock star.

*Austin, El Paso, Dallas, Ft. Worth, pick a destination

Libra: In my original work, I characterized Libra as having problems making a decision. Usually this is about minor details, not big stuff, but the little, day-to-day questions. These tend to be, or how I characterize it, as binary decisions. A/B, Yes/No, On/Off, Black/White, no gray areas here. With Mars as a focal point in Libra, there is a problem. The issue is confrontational, and with Venus in apparent retrograde motion? I’d suggest we just put off the decision. Decisions. There is nothing — right now — that can’t wait for a few days. “But I have to respond by the end of the business day, TODAY!” Give them a definite maybe. Matter of fact, give them all a definite maybe. Won’t solve the problems, but as Mars moves out of orb, you’ll see the problems — and find solutions — much easier.

Scorpio: Ever do something wrong? I don’t mean morally ambiguous, I mean, sinfully wrong? Bad? Terrible? One action, no, no one will ever tell on you, you’re not going to be found out, no, but this is one action that plagues your conscience? It’s back. The action, and its ramifications, none of that is as bad as the thought living deep in your mind. Some would say this haunts your very (Scorpio) soul, but not, this really a mental thing. Cold winter nights, alone, shivering under the covers, and you think about this one action. If only you did something different. But you didn’t. Now we all have to live with your choices. Young, uninformed, smitten with love, whatever the excuse? Seems a little lame now, doesn’t it? As the moon gets full? Before this action eats away at your Scorpio soul, think about the mental compartments. It won’t make this go away for forever, but seriously, to get handle on the residual guilt, or whatever that is? Find a place to put it, find a place to put it out of your mind.

Sagittarius: Duck.

“That’s it?”

Should be more like “Quick! Duck!”

“It’s not like a quack-duck?” No, it’s like this, in the long form, Venus (Retrograde Capricorn) squares Uranus (Aries) squares Jupiter (Retrograde Cancer) squares Mars (Libra). All the Cardinal signs are affected. Sagittarius isn’t part of the current flavor of madness, and as the Sun slips from Capricorn into Aquarius, we’re still not part of the inherent insanity. As one buddy used to say, “There are no victims, only volunteers.” So lets apply that to Sagittarius in our charts, this week. Don’t volunteer. Don’t stand up for some issue that will just get shot down. Or, the short form? “Duck.”