Horoscopes for 9.27.2018

Stay your thanks a while,
And pay them when you part.

    Leontes in Shakespeare’s The Winter's Tale 1.2.9-10

Horoscopes for 9.27.2018



The Scales

Cosmic post-it notes. There stars, especially the Moon and Mercury, are conspiring to remind you about one item that, sort of, needs some Libra (Happy Birthday!) attention at the moment. Having dealt with some rather esoteric astrology theories, what I was looking at as I was thinking my way through your birthday chart, what came to my mind was some kind of a cosmic post-it note. In a birthday frenzy of activity, it is easy for the older notes to come unstuck, and slip behind what they are posted upon. Then, moments, minutes, months later, those old notes show up with gentle reminders on the old Libra “to-do” list. This isn’t complex, this isn’t onerous, this isn’t a problem. Think of me, and the stars, as gentle reminders that there was that last thing you didn’t want to forget, and you left off last summer. Looks like it was few months ago. In one form, or another, a reminder pops up. In my thinking, it was more like I moved a monitor stand, and there was a note with an astrological symbol on it as a reminder, to myself. Now, you’ll excuse me, birthday person, I wish you the best for the coming year, and I think we need to “Go see a guy about a dog,” right?


Really good BBQ requires no BBQ Sauce. Which is amusing to me, as a constant critic, the best places? Two of these places came to mind when I was searching for an example for this week’s energies in Scorpio. Two places with really good BBQ Sauce, but, the problem being, the low and slow smoked meat generally tastes excellent with no such adornments required. One place has a tangy sauce that is citrus, smoky, buttery, and hot, without being too hot for more delicate stomachs, and the problem? The pitmaster is good, and the artful selection of wood means the tender meat tastes better — to me — with no sauce required. Just plain, salt-and-pepper rub, be my guess. Another favorite place?

The joint is a family-run business with the eldest son bringing in a special “Ghost Pepper” kind of BBQ Sauce. It is strictly optional, strictly really (exceptionally) good, and not for the faint of heart. Or feint of heart-burn? In small doses, excellent flavor, and it would be good, just poured over a slab of meat, but the deal is, that one place? Family-run, recall? The various cuts, I suggest brisket and pork butt, are amazing, as they are all done with care.

Scorpio: you’re facing a similar conundrum. The sauce is really, really good, exceptional in its own right. The main meal, though, requires no sauce. How should you proceed? Yes/No? Some weeks, like this week? There are no absolute binary options. Keep that in mind, maybe sample a little sauce on some, just to make sure.


There is a sound, a smell, a feeling that only a busy downtown can echo. All my country folk haven’t seen, heard, smelled, or felt this. But city people know what I’m talking about. It is the sound of dumpster truck clanking a dumpster empty, the crash as the trash can gets set back down. The smell of rotting leftover food in the restaurant trash bin. The whiff of a homeless drifter who passes within range. Early morning, some place is frying bacon and eggs. Delivery trucks are double parked, blocking the street. Two uniformed drivers, one with an empty handcart, rolling it back to the truck. The whine of a truck's lift gate.

In September, downtown, it is still quite warm, even in the predawn light. So there is the city’s sticky, sweet, sour atmosphere as the city’s morning paves the way for another busy day. Listen to the daily rhythm, look for the elegance in the day-to-day sights, smells, senses of where we find our Sagittarius selves. In the early morning cityscape, there was quiet beauty to it all, punctuated by certain crashing, but that’s the cymbals, at the crescendo, you know.


The other afternoon, as I was swinging through a hardware store — really, a giant box store that sold hardware and lumber, and any number of construction related goodies — in that store? I saw specialty lamps. Industrial lighting, like, something that would light up a work place in the darkest of nights. Some strong lighting that could, in theory illuminate a football field or surgical center. For a few moments, I thought I needed a set of those lights, now on sale, with industrial coated exteriors, and handy grab handles, and clamps for securing them, and I would use these lights, exactly where? Office lamps? Cool idea, but the rest of the decor I currently have is a mishmash of library and bookshelf. No, don’t need industrial lights for that. I could use them in the garage, but I do precious little in the garage besides store fishing gear and hang up old astrofish.net promotional materials like show signs and posters. I used a can spray paint on some wood, but that was more as a simple sealer than any kind of art/mechanical/home repair project. Didn’t count. So, these lights, look cool, burn hot, really bright, would help anyone see better in dim lighting situations, but is this a product I want or need? Want? At the time I was looking at them, yes, I wanted them, to light up — I’m not even sure what I wanted to be lit up, just, seemed like the thing. However, I glanced at my phone, text message from a buddy, warranted an immediate response, and I forgot about the bright lights. Bright lights for the garage where I will never use them. The days are a little shorter, not by much, and the nights almost feel cool again.

As a Capricorn, like me, an item catches your attention. What worked to prevent me from making a mistake was a quick message from elsewhere. I didn’t buy the lights that I don’t need, for an unnamed project I won’t start. Might follow me on this one.


I was in a little town, east of here, little, partially agrarian, partially tourist crap, and I noticed a sign. “Library: books for sale.” I love me some libraries, and I love me some books, and I love me some books on sale. After BBQ, the purported reason for the trip to the countryside, we ambled into local public library to peruse the used books for sale. Couple of former bestsellers, a buck a apiece, and, oddly enough, no arcane metaphysical books — at all. I was a bit mystified about that, as used books, especially library books, tends to be a good source for data. Books don’t require batteries or input devices; although, having an analog pen or pencil is useful for making margin notes, if required. Books also transcend time like no other — the interactive nature reading, the way old books are set, and the words don’t change, there are no “last minute edits,” and there are no updates to books. Some should be updated, but not all. That library and its book sale reminded me of what is going on with Aquarius — digging, and now? Digging a little deeper. The librarian kept trying to talk me into a larger donation, but I figure, she suggested a dollar a book for what I had, and instead, I gave about three dollars each. Part because I was feeling generous, part because it prompted this thought pattern, and part — it’s an Aquarius thing, you get it, right? There is a world of useful information at your fingertips, just consider that you might have to look in places that most people wouldn’t normally look.

Aquarius: Watch for the sign, “Library books for sale.”


“Who is that?” “Pancho Villa!” It was tourist, looking at the iconic image on the front of — seems like — every bit of tourist merchandise at one iconic restaurant. (Mi Tierra, a class in its own right.) The tourist, I was amused, I’m not totally sure what the connection is between a hundred-year old revolutionary icon, rather an upstart, and the restaurant. It is a classic image, either black and white, or better yet, like that place served up with flash and color. A wide sombrero, a serious visage and dark, ragged locks, and then the ultimate handlebar mustachio. Part of the history of the Mexican Revolution was fomented in San Antonio, but I can’t see that being the connection. I suspect it specious connection, at best. Still, it sells T-shirts and coffee mugs, so why does it matter? As a Pretty Pisces, there is connection that you see, a connection that might or — more likely — might not be there. There is a connection — might be a manufactured connection — and instead of trying to force it? Might be a good week to knowingly nod, instead of jumping on that platform and exclaiming.

Pisces: Nod an affirmative “Yes,” like you I understand the message rather than trying to figure it out. It will be much clearer — soon.


Passive observation might be one of the most difficult of Aries traits to master. However, this next few days, a bit of passive observation is well-rewarded. The trick is to be passive about this kind of observation. I can easily veer off into physics and other observations about the observers being a part of the equation, but that's not what this is about. I tend to believe that even when I'm engaged in a passive, outside observer position, my presence influences the outcome of that which is being observed. That being noted, how the act of passive observation can - and does - influence the outcome of the observation, understanding that ahead of time?

This week’s Aries types are best served by pretending that the part of observation, passively, quietly, off to one side, in as unobtrusive manner as possible, or, as one one Aries photojournalist told me, “No, don’t look at the camera. Pretend I’m not here.” Yes, that’s the goal, for now, imagine saying that, “Pretend I’m not here.”


Somebody gets a great idea. They run with that idea, hastily, hurried into production, then, another competitor steals the idea. Not so much “steals,” but appropriates the design and technology enough to have a cheaper alternative that is “almost as good as” whatever that first one was. The first one was a great idea, but after that, depends on manufacturing and how quick a supply chain can get ramped up to full production, but sooner — or later — the market is saturated with originals, knock-offs, then approximate knock-offs of the copies. The applicable copyright and trademark laws are in place to protect the tenets of that original “great idea,” but the loopholes are easy enough to exploit.

If you truly have the next great idea, I’m all in favor of the research to prove that it is, indeed, the next great idea. My caution is about hurrying into production, however that might appear in this example, and hurrying an item to market, only to get quickly subsumed by cheap knockoffs of your great Taurus idea. I would think, looking at the chart, there’s the beginning of the “great idea,” but the trick is to not hurry it into production, and maybe, be secretive about that Taurus prototype.


Gemini is the sign of the Twins. We know that. Tends to bet twice as much fun as any other signs, but I might be biased. What started to echo in my mind with this week’s set of Gemini charts? Combining different elements into a single whole. Maybe, combining disparate elements into a single whole. Maybe, working with oil and water, and trying to figure out how to keep the two from separating. Doesn’t have to be a salad dressing, either, can be two people who we wouldn’t normally assume that those two characters would even be in the same room with each other, much less calmly discussing some point — here’s the strength of the Gemini — those two, together. All a matter of pulling a few elements together than don’t seem to belong next to each other. Put them next to each other. Twins, thinks “Twins Power!” and how “two are better than one!” Combine some elements that might — or might not — seem to fit next to each other, like sweet and sour? Sure.


I can get all high-falutin’ with my definition, or I can get down and dirty. “It is what it is,” right? Sure. If that works. There’s a situation that your delicate Cancer (Moon Child) self has refused to see in its entirety. Part of what this is all about, seeing for what it really is. The planets conspire to toss the Moon Children’s Rose-Colored glasses.

See it for what it really is.

That is as it would appear, and them the you would properly see it, and understand its inner-most workings, and thereby grasp the utility and function, as well as its apparent lack of beauty — on the surface, will make this more bearable. See it for what it is, apparent ugliness isn’t always really ugly, just a roughly textured exterior that makes for a smoother finish, on the inside. Embrace it wholly, for what it is, and then the apparent lack of classy exterior will, in turn become a selling point, as you’ll recognize its worth.

The Leo

Some days, this is complex and complicated. Some days? Super-simple. You’re a majestic Leo, you like it when the symbolism is easy to interpret. One gesture. One act. A single page. Maybe just a quote. Perhaps this is a single scene from a play. Maybe it is a one-act play. Or a video “short,” whatever that is. Instead of complicating this action, instead of making this more difficult than we need it to be? Instead of heaping “If, then, there, the,” and conditions upon conditions?

Make this short, simple, sweet.

That easy. There is a need to needlessly complicate the matter. Needless complications do not work for The Leo, and there is also no sense in taking a simple action, simple symbolism and couching it in terms that are too hard to figure out. Simple. Easy. Direct. Keep this week’s projects, goals, and Leo directions easy. Simple, stated goals. There is a crying, desperate need in other people, other signs, to make this complex; to complicate a situation further — making it too complicated. As The Leo, you don’t mind if they complicate matters for themselves, but we will brook no such added drama in Leo. The Leo: Don’t over-think this one.


We all have secret little fetishes and vices. A dormant, not extending, just slumbering giant of a monkey on my back, an addiction, if you will, and I am loathe to admit it, but still, the lingering longing? Hawaiian Coffee. Early in this career, I shopped at a coffee place that had 50-pound bags of green, Hawaiian beans. That place would roast up a handful of beans, expensive stuff at the time, and I would line up and get the good stuff. Hawaiian coffee, the real stuff, has a special flavor. Perhaps it is the mature estates, the rich volcanic soil, the only coffee made in America, I’m unsure of all the details, but I do recognize the flavor.

The question being, I recently purchased a bag of Hawaiian beans, purported, all-Hawaiian. Carefully pursuing the packaging, though, I noted that there is no claim, legal — or otherwise — that these are totally from their island estates. When it says, “Blend?” I think that’s the term — means it might only have one or two real beans, and the rest are imported from some third-world country, and then roasted to look like the real deal. I was cautiously hopeful, when I first purchased that bag of beans, with my heart set on finding a new source that isn’t so frightfully expensive, a cheaper way to afford my secret vice, the Hawaiian Beans. Turns out, yeah, Virgo saw this coming, too good to be true. The hunt and the hope for such a supply chain goes on, but realize, this week? In Virgo? Might be a let down or two, false hope. Can’t say it was totally unexpected, as the price point was too cheap for real coffee from the big island.



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.