July 3: Horses
My best friend was violently allergic to horses. Unfortunately for
him, his little sister loved them. She would go out for riding lessons
and, the second she returned home, my friend would admonish her to throw
her clothes in the washing machine and hop in the shower.
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My favourite contemporary play is called Equus, which is about a disturbed young man named Alan Strang who blinds a whole bunch of horses. It was written by the British playwright, Peter Shaffer, and it was made into a movie, which was terrible. In the play, human actors play the horses. This was important. It underscored Alan Strang's religious guilt and his need for a scapegoat.
-
Equus contains horses but it is not about horses. Rather, it is about mankind's need to worship. Alan Strang's parents are of two opposing views - one welcomes religion and the other forbids it (the one who forbids religion also forbids television, which, according to Stephen King, are sort of the same thing.) The resulting oxymoron-laden environment drives him into a sort of frenzy.
The point I take from Equus is that is dangerous to force religion upon people but it's also dangerous to steal it from them.
-
My mother used to work at the race track at Stampede Park. I think she did some marketing work for them. She used to do radio broadcasts and TV spots, where she would tell everybody what horses won the races. Her job would be obsolete now. The Internet and the dawn of instant information would have killed it.
But ha ha - Calgary doesn't have a race track anymore. My mom went to the park on its last day and I imagine it was a bittersweet occasion for her. So much of her life happened there. The race track was her first post-motherhood job. When her future employer, Jim Coleman, informed her that she'd been hired, mom celebrated by buying her seven-year-old son (that would be me) a Green Machine, which looked like this:
-
At Stampede Park, the horses were led out of the gates by a truck. I got to sit in the back of the truck once and I held on to a strap to keep myself from falling. It was a surrealistic sight - seeing 10 angry horses running furiously toward me.
When it was over, I asked the driver what would have happened to me if I'd fallen off the truck.
"The horses would have trampled you to death," he said.
-
In Grade 5, our English teacher assigned us to do a book report. We couldn't read any old book though. It had to be about a horse.
My mom took me to the bookstore and bought me a copy of The Black Stallion Mystery. I remember nothing about it. I probably didn't do very well on that book report.
In Grade 7, we studied the original Black Stallion novel. We read a chapter every day and at the end, we always had to predict what would happen in the next chapter. My response was always the same: "I think the Black Stallion will win the big race."
That actually happened in the last chapter.
-
When I was three, I got a rocking horse for Christmas. The horse's name is Bingo. My parents still have it in the basement of their Calgary home. My sister's kids play on it when they visit. My son has ridden it too.
I expect Bingo to be there forever.
-
Strangely enough, whenever I think about horses, I think about Tom Petty's song Free Fallin. The opening lyrics go like this:
She's a good girl, loves her mama
Loves Jesus and America too
She's a good girl, crazy 'bout Elvis
Loves horses and her boyfriend too
I am grateful for Tom Petty. Because of him, I will always associate horses with the sweet innocence of childhood love.
-
Once a horse bit my arm. I was 11. My dad made him stop by putting his hands over the horse's nostrils.
The experience did not scar me.
As a journalist, I see horses about four times a year. Whenever I know I am going to a horsie event, I always bring apples or carrots or sugar cubes. Then I ask the horse owners if I can feed their horses and most of the time, they say yes. Then I hold the carrot on my outstretched hand and the horse will exhale hot air all over my arm. Then its nose will touch the carrot and then a sandpapery tongue will come out of its mouth and scoop up the carrot and then it will eat it and when it is done it will nuzzle me and this is one of the best feelings ever.
-
My friend, Natalie, owns a horse. One January day four years ago, I spent the better part of a day with her at the stable. The horse was intimidated by Natalie and would back up when Nat approached.
"I'm happy the horse is scared of me," Nat said. "If he knew how strong he was, he'd easily trample me."
-
There is something amazing, something divine, about the horse. I don't know how easy it is to tame them but they look like they were designed to serve humans. If I were bold enough to make some kind of grand sweeping historical statement, I would submit that humanity's ability to tame and harness the power of the horse is one of the most important technological advancements we've made.
-
I will close by telling you my favourite horse joke.
Shteevie: Ask me if I'm a horse.
Friend of Shteevie (that would be you): Are you a horse?
Shteevie: Neigh.
-
My favourite contemporary play is called Equus, which is about a disturbed young man named Alan Strang who blinds a whole bunch of horses. It was written by the British playwright, Peter Shaffer, and it was made into a movie, which was terrible. In the play, human actors play the horses. This was important. It underscored Alan Strang's religious guilt and his need for a scapegoat.
-
Equus contains horses but it is not about horses. Rather, it is about mankind's need to worship. Alan Strang's parents are of two opposing views - one welcomes religion and the other forbids it (the one who forbids religion also forbids television, which, according to Stephen King, are sort of the same thing.) The resulting oxymoron-laden environment drives him into a sort of frenzy.
The point I take from Equus is that is dangerous to force religion upon people but it's also dangerous to steal it from them.
-
My mother used to work at the race track at Stampede Park. I think she did some marketing work for them. She used to do radio broadcasts and TV spots, where she would tell everybody what horses won the races. Her job would be obsolete now. The Internet and the dawn of instant information would have killed it.
But ha ha - Calgary doesn't have a race track anymore. My mom went to the park on its last day and I imagine it was a bittersweet occasion for her. So much of her life happened there. The race track was her first post-motherhood job. When her future employer, Jim Coleman, informed her that she'd been hired, mom celebrated by buying her seven-year-old son (that would be me) a Green Machine, which looked like this:
-
At Stampede Park, the horses were led out of the gates by a truck. I got to sit in the back of the truck once and I held on to a strap to keep myself from falling. It was a surrealistic sight - seeing 10 angry horses running furiously toward me.
When it was over, I asked the driver what would have happened to me if I'd fallen off the truck.
"The horses would have trampled you to death," he said.
-
In Grade 5, our English teacher assigned us to do a book report. We couldn't read any old book though. It had to be about a horse.
My mom took me to the bookstore and bought me a copy of The Black Stallion Mystery. I remember nothing about it. I probably didn't do very well on that book report.
In Grade 7, we studied the original Black Stallion novel. We read a chapter every day and at the end, we always had to predict what would happen in the next chapter. My response was always the same: "I think the Black Stallion will win the big race."
That actually happened in the last chapter.
-
When I was three, I got a rocking horse for Christmas. The horse's name is Bingo. My parents still have it in the basement of their Calgary home. My sister's kids play on it when they visit. My son has ridden it too.
I expect Bingo to be there forever.
-
Strangely enough, whenever I think about horses, I think about Tom Petty's song Free Fallin. The opening lyrics go like this:
She's a good girl, loves her mama
Loves Jesus and America too
She's a good girl, crazy 'bout Elvis
Loves horses and her boyfriend too
I am grateful for Tom Petty. Because of him, I will always associate horses with the sweet innocence of childhood love.
-
Once a horse bit my arm. I was 11. My dad made him stop by putting his hands over the horse's nostrils.
The experience did not scar me.
As a journalist, I see horses about four times a year. Whenever I know I am going to a horsie event, I always bring apples or carrots or sugar cubes. Then I ask the horse owners if I can feed their horses and most of the time, they say yes. Then I hold the carrot on my outstretched hand and the horse will exhale hot air all over my arm. Then its nose will touch the carrot and then a sandpapery tongue will come out of its mouth and scoop up the carrot and then it will eat it and when it is done it will nuzzle me and this is one of the best feelings ever.
-
My friend, Natalie, owns a horse. One January day four years ago, I spent the better part of a day with her at the stable. The horse was intimidated by Natalie and would back up when Nat approached.
"I'm happy the horse is scared of me," Nat said. "If he knew how strong he was, he'd easily trample me."
-
There is something amazing, something divine, about the horse. I don't know how easy it is to tame them but they look like they were designed to serve humans. If I were bold enough to make some kind of grand sweeping historical statement, I would submit that humanity's ability to tame and harness the power of the horse is one of the most important technological advancements we've made.
-
I will close by telling you my favourite horse joke.
Shteevie: Ask me if I'm a horse.
Friend of Shteevie (that would be you): Are you a horse?
Shteevie: Neigh.
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