Horoscopes for 9.20.2018

Yet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven!
Wind, rain, and thunder, remember earthly man
Is but a substance that must yield to you;
And I (as fits my nature) do obey you.

    Pericles in Shakespeare’s Pericles (II.i.1-4)

The Sun enters the tropical zodiac sign of Libra September 22, 7:55 PM (approximate). Happy Libra.

Horoscopes for 9.20.2018



The Scales

One of the problems with my upbringing, my age, I’m one of those who is bereft of a generation. Not quite a member of their demographic, I refuse to be manipulated by some marketing forces. Makes for an interesting life, that’s for sure. As far as family roots themselves? I have pioneer blood as well as scholar’s ink for blood, running in my veins. That being noted, it is hard to define what defines me. I enjoy some sports, and I can participate in some sporting events — fishing comes to mind — or I can entertain a lively discussion about Shakespeare’s lost plays. So the question, for my — happy birthday baby — Libra friends, the question is, what is used to define who you are? I have one — not a Libra — buddy who gave me a stack of books. Unopened, unread, unused, and unloved, those books. When I asked why he had them in the first place, his reply made perfect sense, “I wanted to look smarter.” I think he was also trying to impress a certain woman, but I’m not totally sure about that. Still, I have an abhorrent repellent to books that just look good on a shelf. However, given where the planets are? Is this the right time to just throw those books away? First off, a local public library is the best donation, and second, are you sure that one, over there, in the corner, didn’t you want to glance through it before you tossed it?

“Wow, this is a good book, I need to keep this one.”


Things that do not happen outside Texas? You don’t hear about game wardens with tickets for certain transgressions, like “A Downed Fence is Still a Fence.” Looking through some fishing reports, I happened across an account where some guy had stumbled onto private property, because, in their words as reported by the officers, “Fence was down, so we thought it was OK.” Back to the original comment, “A downed fence is still a fence.” As this applies to Scorpio, pause and consider the admonition, “A downed fence is still a fence.” As this applies to Scorpio?

There is a line in the sand. A line in the road. A line along the pathway of the good Scorpio, and even though there is easy ingress and egress, that doesn’t mean you should take advantage of some other person’s misfortune. Their mistakes are their mistakes, not “golden Scorpio opportunities,” although, to at least one Scorpio I know, "It’s a target, I should take a shot, right?” Yeah, no. Just a suggestion, but remember, the guys who crossed the downed fence line got ticketed for trespassing, illegal fishing, and drunk-disorderly, which meant an evening in the jail. Might’ve been a resisting arrest charge, too, I don’t recall. It was on a local park and wildlife blog some place.

Scorpio: a downed fence line is still a fence line.


I’m really kind of a private guy. Not big on on exposing myself to everyone. In a career that requires a lot of interaction with the public, I’ve had to overcome that privacy/private life thing. I was in a social circle, and I looked up. The hostess tapped me and wanted a short, astrological explanation, about who I was, and what was going on, as well as a positive prediction for this week. I looked around. Roughly a circle of — maybe — 20 people. I had a half bottle of Topo Chico in hand, some folks were well on their ways with wines. I was nervous, then I remembered I know what I know. The fixed signs are under pressure from Venus/Jupiter in Scorpio, Mars in Aquarius, and Uranus in Taurus.

    Pressure for change.

Mounting pressures, and what 30-second image could I paint for that group to assuage their feelings? While I don’t have a canned pitch memorized, I’m passing familiar with the material, I did a short version of change is good, and we have big changes going on, even now, and how we adapt to the changes is the important part of either success or failure in the coming week. As a Sagittarius, this next week includes a quick, impromptu pitch. Can be a sales pitch, or, like mine, it can be merely informative. “You do know that the tides run higher when the moon is full? Then, with 70 percent of our bodies made of water, the moon will exert an influence in some capacity, right?” All our Sagittarius selves need is a gentle nudge to get started.


Many, many years ago, there was particular personality type I encountered, a woman of approximate dimensions, and I made a sly effort at wooing her. I would tend to see her as a “personality type,” and the effort on my part was less of a pursuit and more of me testing the waters. I did badly. She deftly parried every stroke I tried. I never got close enough for — anything. Nothing. So I remembered that personality type, that kind of person, and when I encountered that same type, a few years later, I tried a much different approach — with a degree of success. Made some headway. Didn’t close the deal, but it was progress. A few years later, a young female came to me for a reading. Same personality type. That time, the third time, I responded much differently. I used a softer, gentler, perhaps more manipulative approach, but it was much calmer. Less obvious. Worked like a charm. Took three tries to figure out the correct approach for that kind of a person’s personality “signature,” and the first time? I was met with abject failure. From that failure, I built upon, what was first, a total fail, then partial success, then, real success. How this works. Next few days, we’re going to compress my learning of 20 years and personality types into a shorter, more applicable Capricorn space. First round, might not work. Second, maybe not as good, but getting better? Third?


It’s how we make ourselves at home, and in part, or totally, that’s what this next few days are about. As an example, I was camped out at a coffee shop. Gradually, my workspace expanded, and I took over a few square feet, with a tablet, keyboard, some papers, the remains of a breakfast pastry, a cup of coffee, half a bottle of water, and a book I was meaning to read that morning. Phone, had the phone out, as well. I got up, got a refill on coffee, and sat back down when that phone rang. Old, long-term client I adore, so I was all, “Wait, hold on, hold on...” as I juggled the phone and my pack, digging around for earbuds. Client asks, rightfully so, hearing such a background din, “Where are you?” Coffee shop, but wait! In the next few moments, I scooped everything I had carefully arranged, back into my pack, shouldered the bag, and I was off. My definition, in this instance, my defined workspace was that material I had arrayed around me. The idea, as an Aquarius-friendly person like me, the concept? See how easy it was for me to sweep all the material back into the bag, load, and go? Have to be willing to redefine that which defines us. Then, too, it helps if you’re able to move quickly, like my example.


It’s all about emphasis. Where is the proper Pisces emphasis to be placed? Outward urge but we know that. The trick, when certain planets line up like this, and to be realistic, the Sun is not planet but a star, however, when “things” line up like this, stop getting distracted with perfect definitions of the elements, and anyway, the trick is to focus outward. Means the current, proper Pisces focus is not on yourself. Outward. Others. The benefits of others, the needs of others, or, as is frequently the situation? The whims of other people. Attend to their needs before looking at what is best for your Pisces self.


There are images of what science believes atoms look like. Cute graphic files that show little circles being orbited by even tinier particles. One, two, 23 little electrons spinning in orbit around neutrons and none of these account for the sub-atomic versions. There are, too, graphic image of what it looks like to have a satellite — or a couple of satellites — orbit Planet Earth (home base for Aries — and everyone else). The animated images are even better, with the little object, usually just a spherical image, describing its arc around the larger sphere, purportedly, whatever the image is drawn from. The way this week works best for Aries is to imagine that we’re the Aries in orbit — around some other place. Or a person. Aries is support staff. Aries revolves around some other person, or another person’s perceived problems, or helps — by exerting gravitational pull — through that act of rotation around some other person. Could be a place, could be a situation, can be defined a number of ways, but the salient point? Aries is not in control. We’re here as support; we orbit the thing in the center.


As substance, we must yield unto the stars. Wow, little heavy, straight from this week’s quote. However, the notation, taking it a just a bit further, deconstructing a bit? We are made of elements and the elements respond to the patterns etched in the stars, the subtle humors, or, weeks like this week? The sometimes apparent lack of humor in the world. Way it goes, some days, just the way it goes. Still, the proper attention is best drawn away from that which is immediate in the Taurus life and look further afield. In other words? There is a huge temptation to micromanage a situation, you know exactly what I’m suggesting, right? Huge temptation to micromanage a situation, and we all know that this bear no fruit. Isn’t good. Isn’t good for your Taurus psyche in the short run, and it’s worse, for your Taurus soul in the longest run. In other words, you know it won’t work, no matter how well-intentioned the advice, guidance, and coercion might be. Is. Pretty sure your heart is in the correct place for the micromangining job, the problem being, the other involved people are needing to learn this the most difficult way possible, and like that? The good Taurus guidance is construed as the worst advice in the world. Which is the opposite of what’s true, but let’s not let the facts interfere with our narrative. This is a week to be one step away from being there, hands-on, in their faces, while assisting, guiding, directing, and otherwise micromanaging someone else’s problem.


Perhaps the attending hostess was merely stalling or drawling, I’m unsure. “Looks like it’s raining,” she noted. It was pouring, not just rain, but great sheeting cascades of water, like a water hose. Happens, from time to time, not a big deal. Inch of rain in half an hour in portions of the city? Sure. Hostess looked at us, and then suggested, “Guess I don’t have to ask, ‘inside or out,’ huh.” Should be obvious, right? As an alert and aware Gemini, yes, should be obvious.

However, given that were just closing out Virgo and we have Libra on the astrological horizon, (plus Mercury, your planet) are playing catch-up, it never hurts to state the obvious. Me, being who I am, and being opposite from Gemini (I’m so very Sagittarius, you know), I had to make a sotto voce comment about maybe sitting outside. Probably got me an elbow dig from a date. Not undeserved, either, but as a Gemini, learn from my mistake. In part, this is about stating the obvious, and then, it was raining at the moment, this is about not exacerbating the obvious statement with a sarcastic comment that makes me look petty and immature. Part one, state the obvious to make sure we all understand. Part two: don’t be snarky. I’m not sure which one is more difficult to follow.


I have one play list, and it wasn’t really so random. It was when I first set it up, but what happened was happy coincidence — for me and my music. The “random” list started with a classic, Rick Wakeman’s The Six Wives of Henry the VIII. Next was Dead Milkman, Devo’s Greatest Hits, DeadMau5, then Fatboy Slim mixes. While not intentional all, at least, not consciously intentional, the mix would go for hours, and turned into an effective writing tool, as background noise goes. What was amusing to me, was the total random way it got assembled, and then, as I made a mistake, after listening to some classical, I had the shuffle function set to “off,” so the music went straight through. Technically, Devo preceded the Dead Milkmen, I think, music history might be a fuzzy topic, but the rest of it happened sort of chronological, as well, as — sort of — alphabetical. Not sure how the list happened. As weird music running in the background, culminating with long set-list pieces from DJ Norman Cook, it offered me a certain solace, and some respite from the cold, harsh Cancer (Moon Child) planets at the moment. While I’m a big fan of the apparently random selection of music that comes with the “shuffle” function, or what they do on radio in its various forms? Yes, I do enjoy the kind of exposure, still, my own list amused me more — Progressive Rock, New Wave, Pop Punk, Techno/Dance, and DJ Mix. This long — apparently sideways — list of music and its histories? Good diversion. The second part? Less random. No, seriously, less random selection, and more choice-centered choices to make this week better for you. “I meant to do that.”

The Leo

There’s a chain of restaurants, along the line of most chains, and the selling point is supposedly, “Sports Bar.” Not the kind of place I would frequent, but with one soft-launch opening, the place had free food. A fishing buddy’s wife snagged a number of invites, so I went a couple of times. Classically presented, pretty much institutional food, with some variations, the little waitress suggested the free dessert. “They bring in Krispy Kreme every morning!” A little too much manufactured glee, and my inward groan. When the first Krispy Kreme opened in Austin, I wound up with boxes and boxes of free donuts. Those things are bad. Almost too sweet, and I never have figured out the secret ingredient, heroin? Crack Cocaine? Krispy Kreme puts something in their regular, glazed donuts. So this chain restaurant has a Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding, and that is nothing more than sugary donut bits mashed together with more sugary goodness and lord knows what else. Tasted like a special glaze that was derived from the sugar glaze on the donuts themselves. Even writing about it threatens with diabetic shock. However, it is good — oh so very good. Just not anything I will likely have, now that it is no longer free. As the majestic Leo, The Leo, remember, after the free trial is over?


Funny, to me, having lunch with a couple of buddies. Talking to one of them, he was originally from Cleveland (OH), bounced around the American “Mid West,” again, and amusing term as it is east of the Mississippi, the divisive line for some of us. So he was upper North Eastern, in my mind. Not quite New England, but close enough. Places with four seasons and one of those seasons is called, “exceedingly cold.” We were eating some kind of — I want to say they called it Pakistani food. I’m unsure. It wasn’t really Indian, as there was an absence of curry, but it was mildly, piquantly entertaining with a touch of pepper. My new buddy, though, he was — visibly — sweating. His face was moist, like an ice tea glass beading up on a humid summer’s day, like a dew-dripped leaf, on a summer’s morning, like, he was sweating like — forgive me — a hooker in church. To me, the food was spiced, but not overly so. I have three different kinds of hot sauce at home, and a single serving of any one of those is surely two or three times stronger than what that food was. Delicious, for sure, but not really that “hot.” Not to me, anyway. All about that point of reference and frame of reference. From whence my buddy came? Yeah, probably was searing heat. As someone who has lived most his life among the pepper heads of the American Southwest? Not so much. Not really even a swig of water hot. As a Virgo, you’re supposed to be like me, amused, but not overly concerned about how hot that dish was. It wasn’t really that hot, just a touch cayenne, nothing like Ghost Pepper or anything, not even a jalapeño — again, frame and point of reference.



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.