I'm covered with it. More at 11:00.
I'm covered with it. More at 11:00.
All the world’s a stage, but obviously the play is unrehearsed and everybody is ad-libbing his lines. Maybe that’s why it’s hard to tell if we’re living in a tragedy or a farce.
Well, there is always the other end of the critter. Be happy.Originally Posted by KJ6BSO
A clear conscience is usually a sign of a bad memory
RIP ALBI-W3MIV RIP RUSS-W5RB RIP BOB-VK3ZL
I once tried to worm our horse while she was eating her grain. I shoved the syringe into the side of her mouth and squeezed. She threw her head back thus releasing the half chewed pasty grain which fell on my head and down my shirt.
Horse Snot: a type of equine excreta.
I got some of that on me, too. And, to be honest, I'm not really covered with horse snot.
My friend Diana is a free-lance horse identifier; that is, she works in the horse racing industry making sure the horses that show up to race are really the horses that the owner claims they are. In other words, she's the one who looks for ringers. Another aspect of her job is to go out to the farm to photograph new foals and write up a verbal description of their markings. This info is sent to the Jockey Club and is used by other horse identifiers all over the country.
I received a phone call from Diana a few weeks ago. Her regular assistant could not work with her this summer and she wondered if I might be able to help her out at a local thoroughbred horse farm. I explained that my knowledge of horses was pretty much limited to which end the oats go into the horse and which end the oats come back out again, but she said that was fine, all I had to do was be able to write and hold a small slate. Since I figured could handle that and she promised me $100 and a free lunch and I have a lot of free time on my hands these days, I agreed.
So, we rolled out of San Diego about 05:30 this this morning headed out to the hill country in the eastern part of the county. About forty-five minutes later, we passed through a very large steel gate and into a place that utterly reeked of Big Money. I commented to Diana that the cost of the concrete in the entry road alone was probably more than I'd earned in my entire lifetime.
Watching Diana ply her trade was fascinating; she spoke into a recorder, rattling off the various identifying markings on each foal in extreme detail, often several minutes worth of descriptions. Then, I'd write the name of the foal's mother on the chalkboard along with it's official color (as determined by Diana) and gender (colt or filly), hold the slate up next to the foal as she photographed it left and right, front and rear, plus some detail photos when necessary.
It wasn't difficult, but there were a few things she neglected to tell me. One of those things was that we weren't working with the foals individually in a stall, we were working with often a dozen or more foals and mares in a largish pen which meant that I had to keep an eye out for fast-moving half-ton animals while I was trying to do my work. Thoroughbred race horses really like to run and they don't seem to care a whole lot about where they do it. Some of them are also curious and very friendly, which is where the horse snot comes in. More than once I got a big, wet nose on the back of my neck and there was one particular mare who seemed to take a fancy to me. She followed me around for about twenty minutes like the biggest goddamned dog you ever saw and if she felt I wasn't giving her sufficient attention, she'd try to steal my clipboard and eat the paperwork. It was funny, but also a bit unnerving and of course I took some good-natured shit from Diana and the ranch hands about it.
By the way, Eddie, the fact that we were working in a pen is where what comes out of the other end enters into things
All in all, it was a very interesting day. I got an inside look at something I would have never otherwise been able to see and now know a little bit more about horses than the oat equation.
Last edited by NQ6U; 08-01-2013 at 01:08 AM.
All the world’s a stage, but obviously the play is unrehearsed and everybody is ad-libbing his lines. Maybe that’s why it’s hard to tell if we’re living in a tragedy or a farce.
Sounds like a good day to me. I've always liked being around horses, although we've never had any ourselves. I really really like the races. I used to be a regular at Turf Paradise, and they would send me free annual passes. And whenever we are in the area, we try to catch a few races at Del Mar. Love dem ponies.
A clear conscience is usually a sign of a bad memory
RIP ALBI-W3MIV RIP RUSS-W5RB RIP BOB-VK3ZL
Let me know when you're going to be here next time—I'll speak with Diana and arrange a back-stage tour of Del Mar for you.
All the world’s a stage, but obviously the play is unrehearsed and everybody is ad-libbing his lines. Maybe that’s why it’s hard to tell if we’re living in a tragedy or a farce.
Outstanding! Thanks.
A clear conscience is usually a sign of a bad memory
RIP ALBI-W3MIV RIP RUSS-W5RB RIP BOB-VK3ZL
She gave me a tour once, it was pretty cool, even for someone as ignorant about horses and racing as I am. More horses asses than at a GOP convention, too.
All the world’s a stage, but obviously the play is unrehearsed and everybody is ad-libbing his lines. Maybe that’s why it’s hard to tell if we’re living in a tragedy or a farce.
Don't do it! That's mafia talk for bottom of the ocean. You know, cement shoes!
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