
i guess it’s easy to become bitter…
especially once you’ve reached a certain age and realized you haven’t accomplished even one-sixteenth of the goals you set out to achieve all those years ago when you thought it would take you forever to get through life…
how could i have possibly envisioned where i would be today…?
there was no way…
the way i’ve always raced around the track without my blinders on…
with those jockeys on my back, continually whipping me to go faster and faster…
when i think of all the races i thought i qualified for, but wasn’t even given a chance because i was automatically eliminated by the handicappers…
when i think of all the gamblers who wouldn’t stake money on me…
when i think of all the trainers who wouldn’t even exercise me, let alone get me race-ready…
i guess it’s easy to become bitter…
especially once you’ve reached a certain age and realized you’re just sore and uneven and lugging along in some pasture somewhere, enjoying that beautiful green grass, never having known the feeling of a blanket of roses cast over your withers…
it’s times like this that i wish i was bred for more non-competetive uses such as giving a girl her first riding lesson or
pulling a carriage through central park or a sleigh through the berkshires during christmas or being given as a gift to a boy who dreams of becoming a cowboy one day…
perhaps then i wouldn’t have acted so spooky whenever those multitude of riders attempted to saddle and mount me…

11 comments
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June 11, 2008 at 10:06 am
SeLiNa
Beautiful piece Chico. Love the racing analogy.
Maybe you’re not a horse but a sheep… and not a White one either. A Black one. Those ones are the ones who stand out from the crowd. They may not necessarily do anything jaw dropping on a daily basis, but they are secretly admired and envied by the White sheep for their individuality and radical thinking.
Thinking & writing are two great things that you do!
June 11, 2008 at 11:59 am
Chico Mahalo
now i know why we are such good friends!
hope all is well…
peace, SeLiNa!
June 11, 2008 at 8:51 pm
mary matalin gisher
nicely put selina, good to see you dropping by. we hope things are running smoothly.
chico, would’a, should’a, could’a. really liked this one. ahhhh, but what if the horse or sheep wasn’t bred for the roses, but was given the gift of individuality too qualify for the event? the horse knew they had what it took to make it, but, most of the gamblers wouldn’t stake money on them. if the colt or kid’s has spunk and talent, it has to count for something. even if the creature is a little unsure. oh well, just like in the old days of europe, and the new days of america, if you weren’t born a royal, you were born to serve.
hey, there’s always buggy racing on seniors day at the track.
June 11, 2008 at 10:46 pm
whypaisley
bravo!! that was really well done… i was with you till the very last word.. and i loved the ride…..
June 12, 2008 at 1:13 pm
Chico Mahalo
An underachieving horse is an underachieving horse, of course, of course,
And no one can talk to an underachieving horse of course
That is, of course, unless the horse is a little black sheep… thanks for that inspired comment, mary!
thanks, paisley, appreciate your time!
June 12, 2008 at 8:41 pm
mary matalin gisher
but of course,
June 12, 2008 at 11:04 pm
Bob
Straight from the horse’s mouth… (so to speak).
June 13, 2008 at 7:27 am
Chico Mahalo
uh heh…
once got it straight from the hippopotamus’ mouth… not only did the s.o.b. lie to me, his friggin’ breath knocked me unconscious… i learned my lesson, believe you me…
June 15, 2008 at 6:04 pm
Paul
Cool. I don’t think I’ve ever seen self as horse before, one million originality points and beautifully executed round the thought like a barrel race.
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