Dallas

Dallas

The first lyrics I thought of? “Ever see Dallas from a DC–9 at night,” from The Flatlanders, who were, in fact, more a myth than a band. The song, it’s originally from Jimmie Dale Gilmore, again, part of the Red Dirt Rockers, only, before that musical taxonomy existed.

The more I thought about it, though, the better song is from Ray Wylie Hubbard, another Texas poet. The title and main lick?

“Dallas After Midnight”

The way I heard the song, after a series of tragic events, the narrator is standing in front of a judge, and when asked, “Why’d you do it?”

The simple answer answer? Dallas is no place to be poor.

Mars in motion.

Neptune.

Saturn and Neptune.

And then of course, the Strawberry Full Moon.

Dallas_after_Midnight_.png

As I understand it, there’s an over–abundance of energy in the chart for the time of the event, and that just suggests “Change.”

I wrote about this before, but on Wednesday, July 6, around 9:00 AM — usual time — my weekly horoscope hit the wires. Then, at 11 PM — same day — the scopes rolled out. Number one, the Sun is in Cancer, so that top slot is a Cancer Horoscope — about guns.

My intention, and I was worried about this one, but my intention was to create an image about where I live, and what is part of the backdrop to my milieu — I grew up in an environment where various firearms are just part of the social background.

It’s not good or bad, it just is.

I did lose a couple of subscribers who thought my imagery was “pro–gun,“ which isn’t my stance. One buddy asked if I was getting soft, going “anti–gun,” again, not my position.

Early events in my professional career furthered my respect for any Law Enforcement Official — I like cops. I trust cops, as a whole. I respect the office and badge, despite political turmoil at the present time.

Oddly enough, as I looked at the chart for that event, I kept thinking, “There’s strong healing energy along with tearing down existing belief structures.”

My brain can’t seem to handle the exponential growth of tragedies. Think I’ll stick my head in the sand. Better yet, I’ll get a surf rod, and stick it in the sand.

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