Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 5.1

    “As full of spirit as the month of May,
    And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer.”
    Shakespeare’s The First Part of King Henry the Fourth [IV.i.111-2]

Horoscopes by the Fishing Guide to the Stars starting 5.1.2014

taurus Taurus: I’ve been wearing the same basic kind of sandal for over a decade now. I get ridiculed, some, for my choices in footwear, but the sandals are durable, pliable, and minimal. Perfect for me. The biggest trouble I’ve had, other than missing a pair when I send them in to be re-shod, the biggest problem is the strap. As some kind leather, and I’m unsure of the sources, exactly, the retaining strap eventually loosens up.

Taurus birthday, Cardinal Cross, planets in evil disarray, all of that? Adds up to a simple solution. I was walking along, thinking of Taurus, thinking of one in particular, and I stopped. Instead of carrying on any further in discomfort, I just paused. Rested on a park bench, turned my back to the hot South Texas (Taurus) Sun, and I adjusted the strap. Imagine, it’s like cinching up a horse’s saddle. About the same, maybe more like attaching a horse’s shoe, all about the same, no? Make that adjustment before you go any further. Simple adjustment, like cinching the strap.

Gemini: I’m not a big “computer security” person. I don’t know much about the underpinnings of the current systems. What I do recall, from my own, distant past? Computers didn’t “erase” any data, the material, the files, the documents, the raw data itself was just removed from a directory. Like, the library was still there, but the names of the books, and reference files, all of that was removed. With enough time, it would be possible to recreate the information on the spines of the books, making it all useful again. Herein is our Gemini problem.

Like in the days of yore, the Gemini information is still readily available, but someone has come along and erased all the reference points. The data is available, but finding it? That’s a different question. No easy solution. While many of my little Gemini friends take time to puzzle stuff out, there’s also a suggestion, a level of frustration that comes from all the data that’s been removed. In computer terms, it’s still there, just the pointers, the reference points are now gone. Part of this next cycle in Gemini? Realize that you know where everything is, it’s just finding it. Therein is the problem, and there is no easy solution. Crack open the first books, look at the first page, then figure out an organization chart for Gemini, all over again.

Cancer: I can easily claim ADD, ADHD, male, over-active imagination, hyperactivity, inactivity, or any other kind of ailment I want. Or even some of the ailments that aren’t in the books, something from psuedo-sciences. Mental, physical, any of those, all of them, none of them. Here’s the deal, the energy is still present. Gives you the attention span of, words fail me. No attention span is the symptom. Except, there will be one Cancer, and she’ll have the laser-like focus she’s never enjoyed before. But for most? It’s that really scattered, “Over here!” No, wait, “Over here!” No, wait, look, “Over there!” I can’t staunch the flow of weird, scattered energies. I can suggest that you might try herding the energies instead of trying to corral them. Move them in one, seemingly coherent directions instead of trying to get them all in one place and settled down. Might be easier, that way. Herding, not corralling.

Yee (something) haw.

The (mighty) Leo: Cinco de Mayo is a big celebration, and it gets more important, the further south I drift. In Austin, one buddy dubbed it, “Drinko day Gringo,” as it seemed like a chance to consume too much liquor under the auspices of some multinational party weekend. It all escapes me. On some, mundane level, it escapes you, too. While you’re not one who would pass up a party, I’d suggest, like me, you’re not really too sure what the party is about. If you know, exactly, what Cinco de Mayo is, fine, but even me, with all my research, I get a little sketchy with details. Doesn’t matter, just because your Leo self doesn’t know what is going on, you see party, right? Time to celebrate. Enjoy, party, play, go along with whatever theme it is. Doesn’t much matter, now does it? The key phrase, the ideal action, the way to handle this next couple of days? Play along. Act as if you understand, eat least, in part, what part the celebration is about. “Act as if.”

Virgo: The last place I lived had a counter, like a breakfast counter, and I added a couple of bar stools. Felt like home, you know? The problem being, well, for one, I never intended to keep the bar stools, but one of them made it to the new place. It’s around a corner in the kitchen a convenient resting spot for groceries, papers, recycling and so forth. The problem being, the challenge for me, is to remember that the stool is there. I pass it on the way to refill coffee cups. I pass it to grab a snack off the kitchen counter, and I pass that stool when I’m getting glass of water. Really a bottle of water, but that’s not so important, is it? The stool hasn’t shifted. I caught a toe on it once, and then, a second time I think I might’ve broken my toe, but I just hobbled around for a few days. That pain reminded me, to this day, it reminds me, that the stool hasn’t moved. In the same place. Hasn’t moved an inch since I stubbed my toe. Not the stool’s fault. Not my fault, either, as it was dark that morning. Still, I have to remember, that piece of furniture hasn’t changed locations since I moved in here. I know exactly where it is. You know where the obstacle is. Avoid it. Like me, with that silly bar stool.

Libra: My own mother once gave me a funny sign for my wall. It was a small plank, looked like a trinket picked up in a tourist joint. The sign looked hand-lettered. I suspect it was machine made, but I proudly displayed that on the entrance to a certain trailer in South Austin for many years. Sign read, “Friends are always welcome, family by appointment only.” I’ve used this before as an example, and I dragging it up again. As a consultant, I live, and die, by the appointment book.

As a Libra, you’re looking for some structure in an ever-changing tableaux. Appointments. That’s the key. I’d also suggest that you “pencil” in the time-slot arrangements, rather than inking it. Nothing too permanent, and yet, fluid enough so that you can change as need be. While friends are always welcome, family? People with issues? Make an appointment.

As one Libra is inclined to chime in, at times like this? “OSHA-required handrails and guards have not been installed on my ass, so only two people can ride my butt right now.”

Scorpio: One piece of advice, I think this came from a Gemini, but one bit? “Every morning, wake up, eat a bug. What worse things could happen, after that?” The implication is “none.” More than one Scorpio will chime in and suggest I’m quite wrong. I point out that it wasn’t my advice, just what I copied down from a Gemini. I don’t think any Scorpio should be eating bugs. Unless, you know, like, you’re a Scorpio Ant-Eater. However, there are some steps we can all take in Scorpio to prevent this up and coming problem.

“Great, Kramer’s going to suggest I eat a bug.”

Not really, but look around, there’s an issue that is going to become a big deal in a few weeks. Let’s get some groundwork, preparation, and facilitate a smoother route for Scorpio by doing our homework now.

Either that, or?

You can eat bug and hope it’s the worst thing that’s going to happen.

Sagittarius: I bought a pound of locally roasted, Italian Roast coffee bean. Seemed to last for forever. Seems like that pound of coffee lasted, two, three weeks. I’m drinking some of it now, even. Why I was thinking about it. I rarely splurge on really good beans like that, not any more, but I knew I was going to have an overnight guest, and I wanted to impress her with good coffee in the morning. Then, too, that’s one of those weeks when I leave early on a Thursday morning, only to return Monday night, only to pack up and leave again the following Thursday. Part of the rigors of travel? Which was why, to me, it seemed like that coffee lasted forever and ever. I had it one Saturday morning, and then again, almost a month later, I still had some of the beans, fresh and oily, excellent coffee. Seemed like the dime-bag of coffee lasted a month, three weeks. Which is unusual, as I usually go through coffee faster than that. There was no second pot of coffee any of those afternoons, and the few cups I had, I get about three or four small cups of coffee from pot, each one, I had a chance to savor, enjoy. Not like slamming convenience store coffee to get going. Not the ubiquitous “Seattle Brand” swill that fuels us. This was something to savor. It really didn’t last longer than any other coffee, just seemed that way. The trick to dealing with all the crap that’s floating around? Stop and savor. It could be something as simple a cup of coffee. Could be more complicated, but I’ll let you figure it out.

Capricorn: Increasingly, I see a number of parental types just hand their phones over to youngsters, as a way to keep the child occupied. There are problems with this. Probably too many problems to mention, but a few that I’ve heard, usually from moms? “Rearranged my home screen. Lost all my icons. Kept dialing my mom. Erased my list!” I’m not sure if it was grocery list, shopping list, or, like some Capricorns, a list of people with whom we will never do business, not ever again. The list of people to avoid. That list has other names, but I won’t dwell on it. I’m not sure what list was erased, but it was a big deal to that one mom. It’s rather difficult to be angry with a small child who looks up at you with those round, seemingly innocent child eyes, with no words, just pleading, kind of hard to be mad at the kid. The long-term fallout from letting a kid play with technology like a smart phone? Think about it. In a few years, “Here, I can’t figure this out,” and hand it over to apparent child prodigy. Something gets erased? I hope it’s your “list,” and I don’t mean grocery list. This week, something’s getting erased. The other component we should all pay attention to? Don’t get mad at the kids. They will bail you out, in the near future, in the words of Groucho Marx? “This is so simple a kid could figure it out….”

Aquarius: I used that line from Groucho Marx in the previous horoscope (see Capricorn above), and in my earlier years, I would offer it up, that line is misquoted, on purpose, and in the earlier years of my work, I would use that as an Aquarius trivia question. The exact quote is in my book of quotations, and to this day, I think I’ve still got a digital copy (from a DVD I own), of the exact source. Kind of gives it away, but not too much. The exact quote? Or my slightly skewed version? Doesn’t much matter, this isn’t a week about being exact. You can spend several hours, digging up that source and then, the antecedent to the source, like, where Groucho stole his material? All of that, sources and previous sources, root causes, all of that. Yes, it’s available to anyone with an internet connection and some time to kill. Which you don’t have. Silly trivia like that, getting the quote precisely accurate? No time. Think in general, “Close is good enough” terms, for this next couple of days.

Pisces: I happened across a funny cartoon. It was two guys, leaning up against a bar, and one of the characters has a “pony keg” belly. Both characters have beer mugs in hand. Or beer bottles, I can’t find the cartoon at this moment. Looks like, the backdrop would suggest less than a saloon and more along the lines of “sports” bar, odd name for a place to drink and not participate. One character is looking at the other, engaged in conversation. The guy with the — presumably — beer gut is suggesting, “My gut is telling me to have another beer.”

I’m not sure what the exact Pisces question is. Varies from Pisces to Pisces. I’m not sure what the exact, right answer is. There are two choices. Get a reading from me, sure, that’s always an option, but seriously, the other point that kept sticking out of your chart? Listen to your gut. That’s why I was thinking about that cartoon, at times, the Pisces intuition can be a little misleading, lie outright, or just point you in a direction that you want to go rather than what is most correct. Still, despite what’s going on, the Pisces intuition is the best course for you to follow.

“Yeah, I think I’ll have another beer.”

Aries: For 20 years, I was in El Paso (TX) just about quarterly. Whistle-stop, one-off, port-of-call for me, so much so it started to feel like a second home. In part, the dry, high desert, I’m more than passingly familiar with, as I graduated high school, not too far from there. “Not far” by local standards. I like the terrain, which is rocky, scabrous earth and tiny mountain ranges, really nothing more than vestigial Rocky Mountains, worn away by the harsh desert. I enjoy the climate, mostly dry and hot, with an occasional blast of cold, maybe once every other year. Finally, what really sold me were the people, as El Paso is not part of Texas, but not part of Old Mexico, and not part of New Mexico, all a kind of timeless landscape unto itself. A familiar landmark I got used to seeing, over and over, a frequent target for my faltering attempts at visual record keeping (photography), was the ASARCO smoke stack, at one time, one of the tallest in the world.

The march of progress eventually saw that chimney fall. I’m sure that the old smelter site will be detoxed and turned into a shopping mall or something. For more than 20 years, that was landmark, for me. For more than 20 year, it was a symbol, “Hello, Kramer, you’re back in El Paso!”

Now, think, as an Aries, what landmark is crumbling? Paved over? Turned into a mall, or whatever? Is it progress?

The answer to, “Is it progress?” is “yes.” As much as I loved the old ASARCO smoke stack, probably better now that it’s gone. Landmarks we’ll miss, but maybe, needed to be removed.

You can lobby all you want, they still tore it down.

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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