Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 3.6

    “You never called or wrote me, just up and disappeared
    Nobody knew what happened, where you been for all these years
    Now trouble’s what you’re lookin’ like, cause trouble’s where you’ve been
    And I can see the kind of trouble you could get me in
    You better pay attention to every word I said
    ‘Cause you’re wanted by the police, and my wife thinks you’re dead”
    Junior Brown (Gemini)

Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 3.6

piscesPisces: I’ve picked up a few tips, from hanging around experts. “I have to ‘bracket’ your horoscopes.” I didn’t know what the term “bracket,” meant, not in that context. I asked for clarity. “When we dealt with cameras, film, for shooting pictures? A photographer would ‘bracket’ each shot, take three pictures, one before, one during and one after, to make sure there was a good picture in the bunch. So I ‘bracket’ your scopes, read three times, to make sure I get it.” (Sometimes I don’t get it, either.) As a delicate and finely balanced Pisces? This week’s energy suggests that you “bracket” your actions. One before, one during, one after.

One Pisces buddy, he’s going to ask, “So if I was going to do a shot of tequila, I should do one before, do the shot, then do one more after it?”

Not what I had in mind, but for that one Pisces buddy, yes, that’s the correct interpretation for this week’s missive — but for all Pisces? I am not bailing you out of the drunk tank this week. Figure it out and make allowances.

Aries: More than two decades past, I used some early “GID” software. “Get It Done” software is like reminders on a phone, or the little window that pops up to suggest it’s time to make reservations for dinner, or something. Write horoscopes, see clients, all the little stuff that needs to get done. For my college and university years, I used an actual pencil and paper calendar. I still have a leather address book that used to hold an annual appointment calendar. I tend to favor some of the more advanced methods like putting down my appointments in an electric calendar, these days. I still reply with, “I’ll pencil you in,” as proof I have an appointment set.

The vagaries and varieties of GID software, electronic add-ons, doodads, and software what-evers? Fun stuff to play with, if you’ve got the time. Here’s the problem, I put all of my contacts into a new electronic Rol-O-Dex and then discovered that the interface was absolutely miserable. One web writer I like, he loved it, so I just took his word for it that it was a good deal. Might be a perfect solution for him. It doesn’t work for me — at all.

The warning, in this long-winded way of mine, is to learn from the mistake. I took one review, embraced it, dumped all my contact and appointment info into it, and then? When I discovered my mistake, I had to go through and recreate the original data, almost from scratch. Backward compatible? There’s some fun stuff happening these days, despite my dire warnings. However, before you jump headlong, headfirst into a new thing? Remember my lesson, and how some testing would’ve saved me hours of trouble.

Taurus: I used a musical reference for an opening quote, trying to shake things up. Old song from Junior Brown, and I like the tune. Not exactly one that I’ve lived out in my own life, but almost. Close enough. Good hook and funny lines. Almost too true in some cases.

The first warning is what happens when life resembles a country and western song? That’s bad news. Then, too, there’s the echo of past lovers, and that’s recurrent theme, even now. Reverie, maybe, old lovers, glory days, in the past? I was taller, stronger, better looking and I had more hair. The more hair part is true. The rest is the misty glasses of time. Don’t get stuck, looking at what was. Old images, while they are great for a momentary glance back at where we’ve been? There’s a temptation to get sucked into a whirling vortex of ancient Taurus history, and therein, get stuck on something in the past. It’s certainly all right to look over your shoulder, but at this moment? And from here, forward? Glance at the passed times, but don’t linger. “It’s really good to see you, it’s been long long while…”

Gemini: I’m wondering if books, as we know them will become an archaic form of data storage. Question for Gemini, then, what books do you value the most, in your library? Assuming you have a collection of books, which, in some cases, younger people might not get this allusion. For example, I have an extensive collection of one author’s “Golden Age of Science Fiction” novels. Some hardback, numerous paperbacks, a couple of “Library” editions, and at least two or three first editions. That author lead me to a British surrealist author, who was, at one time, considered “Science Fiction.” I wouldn’t have found the British author if I hadn’t been looking for mainstream Science Fiction. Both authors have shaped my thinking, analysis, and the way I structure my works. I hold onto those books as treasures indicative of my personal path in life. The Gemini in you needs two things to chew on, and one would be books, as a specific medium, will they be around in the future? The second puzzler, what are the books that shaped your Gemini thinking? One, or both, of these questions need to be visited, or revisited, in the this next week. Mars, like this, prompts this form of inquiry.

Cancer: “On the ropes,” is a boxing term. When I searched for it, I didn’t get any useful information, like a source for the term. Nothing popped. Couple of old movies, and articles about inner-city kids and boxing as a choice to make life better, in and out of the gym. I can’t place the source for the term, it’s out of my collective consciousness. I also got horribly distracted when I went looking for the term, but that’s not what this is about. You’re feeling a little like you’re “on the ropes” in the great boxing match we call life. Stuck. You’re coming unstuck, really, really soon. Like an embattled, older boxer, past your prime, you’ve got a secret weapon. First, the first part of this week, we’re going to take a few licks in round one. Maybe get a split lip or black eye — this is all metaphorical — and you’re covered up, hands up in those boxing gloves to keep from getting hammered. As the planets unwind, and despite Mars, the final act is yet to be written, but you have a strong, last-minute comeback. Great save. Third round, you bust out with volley of punishing blows. You win. Remember, it looks like you’re on the ropes, at the beginning.

The (mighty) Leo: Change big things? Change little things? Try it this way: change little things, one at a time, tiny, maybe imperceptible changes, and see where this leads us. One of the biggest fish I ever caught? I used a tiny piece of bait. Really small, just a section of a piece of a dead shrimp. Not even a whole shrimp, and for the size of the fish, one would expect I used one of those fall-special, Jumbo Tiger Prawn, the shrimp that look more like lobsters. Nope, small piece of shrimp.

Littlest of changes yield the biggest gains. But, and this is counterintuitive for The Leo, little changes. Small tweaks and adjustments rather than wholesale change. Little bait, big fish. Small changes, big change.

Virgo: Next couple of days are about a decision process. “Should I stay or should I go?” The musical refrain, via The Clash?

My answer? Yes.

“That makes no damn sense,” one Virgo explained.

The issue, it’s a binary decision process, with the correct answer being either “Stay,” or “go.” So my affirmative answer leaves no clue as to the real direction indicated by my stargazing (really, just charting locations of planets).

“So should I stay or should I go?” the Virgo reiterates the question.

My answer hasn’t changed, a conundrum, “Yes, for sure.”

Is that, “Yes” on stay, or is it “yes” on go?

Here’s the problem, there are no cut and dry answers, no clear direction. A well-executed “Maybe” is good.

One clever Virgo will reframe the questions as a yes/no situation, and then, I’ll be forced to say, “Maybe.”

Now isn’t the time to make definitive answers (especially if they are posing impossible questions).

Libra: Nod your Libra head and affirm that you hear what I’m saying. I didn’t say you had to agree with me, I just wanted to know that you were listening. That’s the key to this week’s energy, astrologically speaking. Writing, really, if you want to hear me speak, you know how to reach me. So the point is to agree that whatever point I have, or whatever point the speaker has, agree that the point is valid. Notice that you didn’t say, “Yes, you’re right and I agree with your stance,” no, that’s not it. You are going to agree that the position is valid for the speaker.

Well, it is a valid point, isn’t it? Nod your Libra head. Just because it is a valid point, that doesn’t mean you have to embrace the core of the issue as your own. Just admit that the opponent, the other person, me, for example, just agree that I have a valid point, especially if you’re in my shoes. (sandals, usually).

Nod your head and agree.

“That sounds very plausible to me.”

Scorpio: Mercury (communications) makes a square (tension angle) to Saturn (reality) in Scorpio (this sun sign). Your message isn’t getting through. What I’ve seen happen? The person attempting to communicate (Scorpio) is thwarted repeatedly, so the volume goes up. If the person doesn’t understand when you talk quietly? Get louder, right? Wrong, but this can easily escalate to the point where you’re yelling at someone, or texting me IN ALL CAPS, and still, no response. We all heard you the first time. With Mercury where he is? We’re all taking our time about answering the Scorpio, very pressing, question. Questions.

Therein is the problem. The answer? Stop trying to get your point across. There’s this one Scorpio, and when she’s quiet? That speaks more, volumes louder, than anything she can say. Might try that. Turn the Scorpio volume down instead of up.

“I’m just saying.”

Sagittarius: Fall-back plans are important. Not so much a fail-safe, as a plan B, or a plan C, or, we have the whole rest of the alphabet to work with in this scenario. Back-up plan. If the first choice becomes unavailable, there’s got to be a second or third option. Keep this at the ready. While I was very quick to embrace electronic distribution of my material, I was also quite slow when it came to adapting to the new medium for reading books. Means I still keep a paper book, at hand, ready for consumption, as a plan B, or Plan 2, or whatever alphabet letter we’re down to, at this moment. Contingencies because exigencies arise.

Be ready with a book on the tablet, maybe a book on the phone, I don’t know, and looking at Mars? Perhaps a hard-copy, too. Be prepared as we’ll probably have to entertain ourselves this week.

Capricorn: One store here, they had the funniest party cup. “Alcohol: helping white people dance.” What the cup said, and from what I’ve seen, this is quite true. Alcohol doesn’t help white people dance any better, but it numbs the cerebral cortex enough to lift inhibitions. I kept thinking about the number of times I’ve been exposed to the way “white people,” in particular, white guys, the way we dance. Or don’t dance, so much as move like there’s an electrical jolt motivating us. It’s not true about the entire spectrum, but as a general rule, yeah, we look bad, as in no rhythm, more like a spasm rather than a fluid dance. There are exception, but this isn’t about the exceptions, this is about the general nature of the whites guys who can’t dance. You are in my club, this week. Jupiter, Pluto, Mars are the players, but trust me, physical activity is good, but in a public setting? Dancing is off the table.

Aquarius: Sound tracks to the Life Aquarius? How about Aquarius in C Minor? What sound tracks are you going to add to Aquarius life? For years, there’s a “double album” by Lyle Lovett (Scorpio) that always ranks well with me as it encompasses a huge number of historically important Texas singer/songwriters, and wraps whole decades into a single collection. Then, there’s always going to be Robert Earl Keen’s #2 Live (REK is Capricorn), again, a soundtrack for my own life. I’d like think parts of Jimmy Buffett’s oeuvre fit with me, as well, beaches, boat, bars and ballads, sure (JB is Capricorn).

What made me think about this, though, was a cut that cycled up on a player, another favorite tune, for its scope and weirdness quotient, “Mayans versus Aliens” by the left coast collective, Beats Antique. I can’t say that it would make it onto the top ten, but it was what sparked the question in my mind. I know my Aquarius people. I’m trying to spark something in your mind, a previously unfulfilled hole that needs some kind of plug. I’m not saying that music is the definitive answer, but that’s the best place to start. There’s also a suggestion that we all take a moment to pause, and shuffle through the stacks of music and sort out what’s most important to our Aquarius selves. Which ones would you take with you? Or, for that one Aquarius? Which CD cases do you want to be buried with (this week)?

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 KramerWetzel.com.

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