Very Funny!

I had to post this email joke. It came from my friend Tom. Most of these remind me of significant highlights of my career, even though I have never actually owned my own horse (probably because I avoided following suggestion #10)

This is not the original. I've given it my own annotations:


Ten Ways To Get In Shape for Horse Ownership

1) Drop a heavy steel object on your foot. Don't pick it up right away. Shout "Get off,stupid! Get off!"

1998 was to looking to be my best year as a Race Rider. Instead of staying in Cleveland (Thistledown) where I could not dominate, I rented a place in Chester, WV. Everydy knew my name in both places, and I could ride the best; the Thistledown shippers that the leading jocks there didn't want to ship down to ride, plus whatever I picked up at the Mount. In a couple of months I had the lineup of the century on all the overnights. Even John Semer was riding me.

Then I got thrown off leaving the starting gate on the baked clay of our turf course. I was out for six weeks with a broken right wrist. I got back up for the first days of the summer meet and actually made leading rider over Tony D. - a dubious distinction since it was only the third day of the meet - still I was milking that to regain all my lost momentum. Then I took a fractious horse to the starting gate. Before we even got inside, it tried to make a last-minute getaway. I got a boxer break in my left hand from just trying to keep myself from being separated from the saddle. (For you die-hard racing and other Mixed-Martial-Arts fans; I still broke the horse from the gate and breezed it a half-mile, THEN brought it back to the barn and told the trainer; "your horse broke my hand".)

I missed riding a winner that afternoon at Thistledown - a horse someone was going to place a large bet on that I stood to gain a chunk of. Some other kid got the chunk and I got six more weeks of unplanned vacation.

FINALLY (and this is what my story is really about) I got back up. It was September, I think. Peaches Yaquinta had a pretty consistent horse for me to ride but I had to get on it every day. The gelding was very cinchy and would whip circles around the groom that was legging me up, and about the third day he pushed the groom over. I yanked the reins to keep him from getting loose and he stepped on my foot. And then he didn't move! - for like five seconds! - with the toe grab digging into my metatarsals...

But that time I didn't take a vacation or see a doctor - I kept everything "on ice". I never found out if it was officially broken, but I still have the rearranged anatomy to prove it happened.

2) Leap out of a moving vehicle and practice "Relaxing into the fall". Roll lithely into a ball, and spring to your feet!

There's never enough practise, that's the problem. SO far I've got the relax into the fall but the lithe roll has eluded me. Last time I tried this I got four pins in my wrist. And I don't have osteoporosis! - Two other jocks broke their wrists at the Mount in '07; Ronnie Allen Jr. and a bug boy. And not long before that, Joe Cuevas hit with both hands and now they're like claws and he doesn't gallop horses any more- he's an agent.

3) Learn to grab your checkbook out of your purse/pocket and write out a $200. check without even looking down.

I win here! I never write the $200 check; instead I'm the one for whom the check is written!


4) Jog long distances carrying a halter and holding out a carrot. Go ahead and tell the neighbors what you're doing. They might as well know now.

Another win for me. I haven't had to do that since horsemanship school.

5) Affix a pair of reins to a moving freight train and practice pulling it to a halt. And smile as if you are really having fun.

The smile actually works sometimes. If the trainer is an idiot, he'll agree when you return to the barn that "he went dynamite!"

6) Hone your skills of diplomacy ...."I'm glad your lucky performance and multi-million dollar horse won you first place - I'm just thankful that my hard work and actual ability won me second place".

It's a fact of life that if you start on a lower rung, you have to be twice as good to get half the credit.
Once This fellow named Wilbur Butler told me to change strategy on his horse to fool the competition. It worked - we beat the chalk horse and leading rider by a nose. As we returned to the jocks room, Rowland said 'you're not supposed to do that to me" (with a smile) and on impulse I answered "well Mike, at least you'll get to ride your mount back." Riders know what this means (when the leading rider beats you, they ride both horses back - theirs and yours, but If you win, you won't get to ride his but you'll at least not be fired off of yours) but nobody openly complains - whining is very frowned upon in this business.

7) Practice dialing your chiropractor's number with both arms paralyzed to the shoulder, and one foot anchoring the lead rope of a frisky horse.

Once or twice I've gotten a superior alignment by being thrown from horseback the perfectly right way. It's only happened a few times; when I was utterly unprepared and therefore completely relaxed. I'd heard my spinal column crack like a zipper from one end to the other, but when I got up and dusted off I felt brand new! The same treatment from the doctor is pure agony...


8) Using the US Army slogan; "Be all that you can be" - add: "bitten, thrown, kicked, slimed, trampled."

Good to know you don't have to serve to become "Army Strong".

9) Lie face down in the mud in your most expensive riding clothes and repeat to yourself: "This is a learning experience, this is a learning experience,..."

It's always the white shirt after a soaking rain. And the appropriate lesson is; a white shirt will not "foil the jinx" of falling off on a muddy day.

10) Marry Money!

Or, like other professional riders, never own a horse; just take the check from the ones who do!

My Horses: the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

I’ve been up since 3 and now it’s almost 6. I haven’t gotten to the BLOG yet. So all I’m going to say is I want to write about my horses again, but I really want to take some photos of them, and I’m not supposed to have the camera on the Back Side. Because of Eight Belles and HBO. So I’ll have to sneak again.

And right now I'm just going to get dressed, review my list (mental) of who I have to get and when, and then lie down and rest my eyes before I hit the gallop trail.

Deshawn Parker: 3000 Wins

A friend of mine called me yesterday to let me know that DeShawn Parker would probably win his 3000th race that evening at Mountaineer Park. Said maybe I ought to come down and journalize the event since all the Media People have the weekend off. I'm a little hesitant on that, partly because of this BLOG and partly because I'm not official to begin with.

I am sure that the media department will handle all of this on Monday when they return, but the fact is, for those of us here it's monumental news that deserves some airplay, and now, since it didn't happen last night, it will definitely be tonight.

DeShawn rides almost every race on the card, night after night; of eight mounts last night, only two managed to stumble across in front, and Marco Camaque, who was at last glance 9th in the standings, with 8 wins to Parker's 66, boosted his average with 3 wins on the card.

DeShawn's dad has been around racing forever. I remember Jerry Noss saying to me "that guy thinks he's somebody now; well, I remember when he was just a pony boy!" - Jerry's way of playing down anyone who sincerely deserved a compliment (and I'll share some about that colorful character another time). In doing a little background on DeShawn, it turns out Darryl was the first Black Steward in the US. Inspirational!

What I notice most about DeShawn is, first, that he is very tall. If you saw Darryl, you'd wonder as I do how the heck DeShawn keeps the meat off of his frame. Granted Darryl is taller, but he's also got a four-foot girth! On the other hand, DeShawn is one skinny dude.

He doesn't look to me like one of the Big Mac Heaving club. His chest is concave, he carries no water - his eyes are never puffy and he never has the exhausted look that some riders who struggle with their weight exhibit. My educated guess would be informed by the scripture; "man doesn not live by bread alone...but by every word that proceedeth from the mouth of God".

DeShawn doesn't just do the things most jockeys do to get to ride races. However he maintains his weight, scans his past performances, reads his video replays or presents himself professionally, he is inseparable from teh stuff that makes legends.

So this is my imagined story of DeShawn:

Time spent with his father in the jocks' room was a great influence. There he could create his own identity before he ever picked up the reins for himself. He got to see who the jockeys were; the triumphs and the sacrifices; the good and bad choices his pedecessors made. He had the unique opportunity to see how others damaged themselves and shortened their careers by poor choices, and to craft a vision for his own career that he could love. I'm certain that his ever- growing success is related to a wisdom that supplants the experience of sacrifice with the experience of gratitude.

From time to time I recall somethinsomeone said offhand about him; that they've never heard him say "thank you", as in; "thanks for the mount". Maybe he IS thanks, so he ever thinks of saying it.

And if not, if he's just that self-absorbed, so be it. That makes him as ordinary as the rest of us as well, for I dont; intend to exalt anyone above anyone else in my pages; and he has his share of miseries and does his share of misdeeds as all of us do from time to time. Far be it from me to even want to make him seem perfect. I'm just reminded that for all the good Dale did for him, he didn't come to Dale's funeral (of course that reminds me of three recent funerals I have no excuse for not attending).

So enough- we all put our pants on the same way every morning, but tomorrow morning, DeShawn can be proud to put his pants on the legs of a 3000-race winner. Congratulations, Jock!

November, 2003
Thoroughbred Times Article featuring DeShawn Parker

August 27th, 2005
Blood Horse article on Parker's 2000th win

Winter, 2008
Oaklawn Media Guide Bio - DeShawn Parker

Of Pills and O-rings

So much for working in the Racing Offce. Happened into a friend who was a jobber there and the story from their side was that it truly is awful.
And not to bore you with the details once again, except for:

- The pay sucks;

- You may have to work overtime but you won’t get paid for it; (if you want you can take it to a lawyer – someone actually got their overtime that way once but it’s a lot of hassle and the lawyer has to be paid, also)

- You can’t work on the Back Side because it’s a ‘conflict of interest’

Where they have come up with this rule, I can’t begin to speculate – after all, we don’t mind permitting oil men and former defense industry executives to decide when & where we shall wage war. If we trust them to handle our tax dollars, then should we not trust the lowly Gallop Girl to ensure that no pills are palmed during the draw?

All About Palming Pills

In racing, after all the entries are closed, post positions must be allotted. The traditional way to do this is, whoever happens to be present on both sides of the counter (jock agents on one side, clerks on the other) participates. This is intended for the purpose of keeping things fair. After all, it’s harder to fix a race when any and all potential interests are in.

For each race, first to last, one person draws each entry from the stack, and another one pours a round ball (called a “pill”) from a container (in my experience it’s always something like a wooden milk bottle.) Each pill has a number on it, and the entry drawn is matched with that number. That is the post position for that horse for that race. Everyone else stands close by and watches the proceedings, presumably so there’s no funny business.

But, if the person who is pouring the pills from the bottle is slick, they might secretly hang on to the pill with the number (post position) they favor for a particular race. When the post positions are drawn for that race, the pill guy pretends his desired pill was drawn from the container, when it was actually hiding in the palm of his hand.

And that’s why it’s called “palming the pill”.

There are some things racing doesn’t tell you, and this is probably one of them. But to say it happens often would be guessing on my part – I have no office experience and from the looks of things might not be getting any very soon. But I can tell you how I feel about the effect this should have on the trust of the racing patrons: NONE WHATSOEVER.

WHY?

Here’s my reasoning: If you take all of these little misdeeds and other selfish attempts to influence the outcome of a race, there is a point at which the failures cancel out the successes. Palming pills is one of those inexact sciences that might offer the palm-er a sense of security but there are too many other variables in a race to make it worthwhile as a guarantee. Because - you never know when you're gonna get yourself parked next to the one horse that takes half the field out when he leaves the gate - including you. Add to that the annoying voice over in your head calling it God's punishment for having obtained your desired post position unfairly.

Here's another reason; if you are palming pills, who is to say that the other guy isn’t? So if all of your palmed pill horses win, then presumably so do all of his. The same person doesn’t get to draw the pills every day- it’s somebody different. And if nobody gets to do it all the time, then nobody is getting any more of an edge than anyone else.

The post positions are known before the bets are laid, so the public is out of harm's way anyhow. One wouldn’t risk palming a pill for a dead horse; only one that has a chance in the race, so it’s more likely that the lucky horse with the good post position, if he got it unfairly, is a shorter-odds horse anyway – more likely to win already. That’s actually an unfair plus in favor of the patrons!

The people that get upset - and rightly so, are the owners and trainers - the ones who are trying to win the purse money. Still, as many times as an owner might gripe that their competition got a better post position because someone palmed a pill, well, just as often they got a good post position for the same reason. But it is the kind of thing that makes horse racing look bad even though it's no less honest than football, politics or banking.

Pill-palming might be one of those things that horrifies a racing association or a commission. If I seem to be condoning it I don’t intend to. We all need too recognize that the people reading this aren’t 100% honest - that should make it easier to swallow. All I am saying is that transparency doesn't have to mean "squeaky clean". Pretense is worse then being transparent about dishonesty, if you ask me.

Compare the same kind of influencing with regard to both Space Shuttle disasters – when the desire to “help something along” simply overcame the level of personal responsibility. Since we’re all subject to this temptation, the comparative innocuousness of palming a pill compared to overlooking a shitty O-ring or a missing ceramic tile should preclude our worrying about the pill. Let’s get our O-rings sorted out and the petty stuff will eventually prove itself to be equally detrimental to those who engage themselves in it.

The reality; "you win some, you lose some", is a constant anyway; you can count on it no matter how many variables people try to tinker with. The only loser in the long run is the one doing the tinkering because it ultimately winds up in the constant "you win some, you lose some" anyway, with one exception: If you get caught tinkering you could lose your livelihood. That's the equivalent of wagering everything you know and love and flushing the ticket down the toilet.

Right about now patrons should be chuckling and pill-palmers should be gagging on their trans-fat racetrack nachos.

Have I said enough to do justice to Transparency in Racing? I sure hope so. It’s just so hard to keep any person one hundred per cent honest, the best we can do is punish them when we catch them (which we should do and DO do). In the meantime, let's demystify some of the rumors and hearsay. So keep coming to the races, patrons, and bet with confidence.

ANd I only brought up the pill thing because I was talking about job on the back side being a potential conflict of interest with a job in the Secretary's Office. The only conflict of Interest it is, is that if you want to work in the Secretarly's Office you have to take a pay cut and increase in your working hours, plus you have to be willing to put up with a lot of disrespect. Kind of like wagering everything you know and love and flushing it down the toilet.

To conclude my lonely monologue about possibly working in the Racing Office, trust that it will probably never happen here at Mountaineer.

The Dreaded Office Job Fades Into the Background Once Again

Accompanied by a sigh of relief..

Most of the time I get up early to play catch-up, and then, after my exciting morning at work, I rush home to clean up, eat, and crash. When I awaken, I’ve completely forgotten about the morning, so I write less often than I would otherwise.

I keep hoping that somehow I’ll get the website in presentable condition and actually make some money so I can stop trading for it by the hour and settle into a more literary routine. Hasta ahora , Seré laboral con mi piernas en lugar de mi ingenios.

I went to see Rose Mary about that office job but she was in a meeting. One of the office people let me in and asked what it was about. When I told her, she kindly informed me about the application process (online from home or online at the Human Resources department in Newell).

It’s no accident that I can’t get a job here; I don’t even know anybody, and they don’t know me. On top of that, I only miss Rose Mary one day in a row and haven’t been back since. And that's not representative of eagerness for something.

The conversation was irritating for me anyway. Why is this woman instructing me to apply for a job that isn’t posted, won’t be posted, and never gets posted? The last time I went to Human Resources, I asked about the same kind of job – office grunt. A Tall blonde-haired woman was walking down the hall and asked if she could help me. When I asked her if the position had been filled, she explained that if it wasn’t posted on the board anymore, that it was.

I replied that it had never been posted on the board (Front Side or HR), and she fired back haughtily at me “it HAS to be posted. If it’s not there, there is no job”, turned away and stalked down the hall.

You got that right.

They don’t post these jobs. They never appear on the board outside the HBPA office... The board across from the Horseman’s board… the one that has the employment info and job openings….??? And they've never appeared on the board at Human Resources or on the Internet.

I know why I don’t get the job, and I’m comfortable admitting it.
I know the pay sucks, the work is overwhelming, the environment is emotionally toxic and I don’t need any of that bad enough to quit galloping horses, so I stay away from the Front Side altogether. That’s not the way to get acquainted with anyone who might potentially hire me.

And I would have to quit galloping horses; it’s been deemed a ‘conflict of interest’. But I forget why ( someone must have palmed my marbles). The potential conflicted interest is ridiculously minimal. Considering all the hidden ownership that happens, among other conflicts of interest, we’d be better off policing ourselves than being policed by a governing body that doesn’t even know that a race horse is an intelligent form of life and one whose conditioning is ultimately affected by every change in the rules of racing, including but not limited to changes in the rules for entering and scratches and the tendencies of Associations to practice protectionism.

Is it a conflict of Interest for the State to hire a commission that knows nothing about racing and has no direct association with the animal itself?

These are the guys who are going to be interpreting the rules for people who now have to take a sixty-hour course and pass five exams to be considered for any other official position (ROAP). In other words, the student will now be informing the sage.

People on the racing commission don’t have to know everything; they just have to have their basic personal integrity serving as Guide (we can only hope that’s what they have.) The upside of the appointment is that no single special interest group among us can influence them.

Seems strange, to accept being governed by those who were not chosen by you and do not represent you necessarily. Don’t think it cannot work or that’s it’s not already working. Still, it was a sad day when the privilege of exercising a few horses each morning before going to work in the Office was kaboshed. Lots of people lost their Christmas money, and for my part, I’m honestly not interested in the desk job until or unless I am forced to quit galloping by my aging body or by the promise of a better paychek (which isn’t the case right now).

Gotta catch a coupla winks before I dress for work.

The Dreaded Office Job Looms Again

I heard that another jobber quit the racing office.

Every time this happens now, I think "maybe I should go over there and ask - again - if they need any help". I've been turned down before, and I always carry the thought that they'll never hire me on account of I'm too opinionated or too full of ideas.

And that makes quite a bit of sense, when you come right down to it. After all, I'm the one whining about all the anti-transparency going on around here. Who would hire someone who sounds like they want to turn your way of doing things inside out and backwards?

But what I really want is a chance to see things from the other side - to see the complex responsibilities that are involved, so I can help the horsemen overcome their own ignorance. Sometimes I want to throttle my friends who lie about the way things are so they don't have to take responsibility for whatever they complain about.

So I'm thinking maybe I'll just go ask if I can fill in. Maybe they wouldn't feel obligated to me if I was in a very junior position - one that had absolutely no power at all. It would allow me to get some hours in for my accreditation, and it would help me actively engage the rules more. I could also be a great extra hand without too may hours a week of involvement.

So I go back tomorrow to ask Rosemary or Joe Narcavish. Just to fill in till they find someone, or fill in now and then even if they already have someone.

Derby Day, West Virginia Style

Well, I did make the Derby yesterday, more with my (imaginary) readers in mind than actual excitement.

But it really was exciting to be there, even though I barely know who all these young jockeys are and the pots are out of my league (I actually won a race on Derby day in 1999, but back then the day wasn’t devoted to stake races. We had two or three stakes I think, and my race wasn’t even allowance – I think it was a 10K claiming race).


I haven’t been to the Derby in about three years, and this was truly exciting! There were people all around the Far Turn! And they weren’t racetrackers either (at least only a few of them were). They wer genuine locals and visitors in sizes, shapes and colors.

There were women all dressed up. Some of them were in mini - no, not mini – crotchie- skirts (no hats, sorry) and so may men with pony tails it was as if people had wandered away from a disco and a hippie convention. I heard that the lodge had sold out of rooms. I guess that’s what brings in fans…the Big horse.

Well, the big horse got beaten. From where I was it looked as if he made a move a bit too early, but I think under the circumstances it might have been warranted. The one horse got out there on the front end alone, and I think Mike Smith has been here enough to know that the track generally favors speed and the rail is deep. And in his defense, all horses looked spent at the finish. He might never have caught the One Horse. I heard one of the jocks saying to the trainer while they were walking back down the chute that the track was cupping away.

Even after all that rain – but there’s no real bottom, except when you hit that dead flat surface. And, um…. No toe grabs, anymore, you know. Hope that rule gets us the Grade I status that the defeat of The Bird could help along.

Miguel Mena, the jockey who was named on the horse that won, didn’t ship in to ride it. Charlie knows Mena’s agent from way back, and Charlie was supposed to take the kid’s tack when he came in. I didn’t know this, and I was like…”hey Charlie your rider won!” when he came home yesterday, and he answered, “he never came in; Dale Beckner rode the horse.”

Ohhh, that had to smart. I thought it sucked when I missed my big chance here and there, and this kid missed a Derby race….wooo, bad karma, baby. He could have used that to springboard through the Spa.

And Kudos to Dale; who I believe had the bug in NY at the same time as Michelle Luttrell. He’s getting to the age were a jock should be recognized for his accomplishments; anyone who has stuck with it for 15 to 20 years should be enjoying the benefit of their accumulated experiences.

Gotta go to work, or I’d keep on….

Business not Related to the West Virginia Derby...

Yesterday was a work day for me at Burkle's Turf Supply. With the Derby and other stakes events happening today, there were lots of visitors to the shop. Everyone was gossiping and speculating. More than the day's card, however, I've been hearing about the "NEW" racing commission appointed by Governor Manchin.

Well, one already knows that the fellows who got the job are complete novices to racing. The consolation is that their predecessors had no background, either. Looking at it from the horseman’s point of view, it's another nail in the proverbial coffin for the racing industry, at least here in the Ohio Valley.

On the other hand, if the people who have been hired are people with true personal integrity, they will study the rules of racing and give their hearts to serving the industry.

A great example of this would be our HBPA executive secretary, Maria. Hired by HBPA President Lora Bailey, whose intention as I understand it was to avoid giving the position to someone who was already a member of any back side clique, doesn't have a racing background. Still, she is a pro-active learner about all things related to the people on the backside; she even attended the Spanish for Gringos classes in effort to be better able to communicate with many back side workers. Maria was not a state-appointed employee; she underscores my point:

There are a number of positions that would be better served if the people filling them were honestly passionate about the sport itself. Or if, as in Maria’s case, passionate about helping other people, or at least about service.

But more often than not, state appointees are mined from the Charleston milieu of politicians and their friends and families. They are in the job for the Title and the money, but not for the sake of the sport. And who gets the job is determined by whose turn it is or who is the most influential at the moment.

There lies my complaint: If there's one thing about racing, and that goes for horses or dogs, this is not a job that can be handled by a stuffed shirt.

I heard throughout the grapevine about how the last Commission Executive Secretary got the job; the to whom it was first offered it found out what it would require of him....and turned it down because it wasn't the kind of appointment he had in mind (what with all the actual work involved). The woman who wound up with the workload finally quit (within the last year, I think).

What burns my soul with regard to politically appointed positions is as much a fear of the decline and elimination of racing here as it is a personal thing.

Personally, I'm jealous as all hell. The people who have been my community for 30 years; whose desires I would like to satisfy and whose stupidities I would like to address (were I lucky enough to be hired to such a body as the Commission) have been left without a voice. The people with the greatest understanding of the animal in which the sport is rooted and whose well-being is decided ultimately by top-level decisions have absolutely no influence on that level.

Not to mention the chance to influence marketing and development of this product we're peddling here in the N. Panhandle.

With that said, I’m not wrong to say I'm sitting on the sidelines knowing that if you stand me up beside the three new official Suits, I'm just as qualified.

In fact, I probably have more executive experience than they have racing experience; all three of them combined. So should it frost my heretofore nonexistent balls that I'm not wearing that suit? Yes. It's like watching from the sidelines as your team loses its last shot at the Series because they misunderstood SLAM DUNK as something to be accomplished by accountants. And the shareholders are up in the Box drinking and partying.

Sometimes, I swear you just want to rip the clothes off the emperor.

And worse, someone like me, who wants nothing more than a chance to give back to an industry that gave so much to me, but needs a paid position to do so, is sitting in the barn while the fat fatty fat fat people who pretend to be running the show (and oops, don’t seem to realize they are running it right into the ground) are hiring their friends and families simply to keep the Golden Goose in the nest.

It’s one thing if everyone in your family works for the government, and another entirely when they “hold positions” there without actually doing a Goddamn thing. Incest equals a whole family with nice teeth, a guaranteed pension, and less responsibility than a homeless person.

If Senator Bowman already has a wonderful benefit package and pension coming, does his cousin also have to also be so blessed…by being ushered into a seat in an industry that is as alien to her as construction is to a bullfighter?

I don’t even know her name; but who cares amore about the horsemen in the Northern Panhandle than a horseman from the Northern Panhandle?

I may be wrong; she may take the job for the blessing that it is, but I’m not hearing that…

If I knew that she at least loved horses as much as I did when she was little; or maybe attended the races and bet her birth date one time and got hooked; or had a friend who raised Thoroughbreds in West Virginia, or even, EVEN if all she knew was that Soulofthematter, a horse who finished second in the Dubai Cup (to the champion Cigar) was a West Virginia Bred.....

If she was ever spoken of with a laugh and a twinkle, or even a sigh or an epithet, I could believe that the person occupying that office was actually DOING something besides putting in hours..

Maybe then I could feel good about our tax dollars going to someone who otherwise has nothing at stake but a paycheck. But instead here's a woman appointed to the task of making sure that the WV Bred program is properly administered in the Northern Panhandle, whose only ties to the Northern Panhandle, for all practical purposes, are that her cousin, Senator Bowman, owned Woodview Golf Course (at one time or another and possibly still) but that’s not horse racing...

Beyond that dubious distinction, to the Breeders’ contingent at the Top of West Virginia she's simply another firewall erected by the leadership of the Program at Charles Town intent on keeping the program as undeveloped as possible up north here, and for as long as possible. And that’s in my humble opinion, but my thoughts are reinforced by what little I have heard. I mean, if it’s these people who are being served, should they not even get to see her resume?

For the uninitiated:

This means that the Western (Charles Town) area breeders, already well- ahead in numbers of Certified State-Breds, can keep the bulk of the (hefty) funds amongst their numbers: the smaller the group, the less competition for these funds and bonuses. The western panhandle farmers together cooperate (either by co-mission or omission) to keep the northern panhandle out of the loop.

Never mind that this has nothing to do with developing the Breed in West Virginia, nor the health of the Industry as a whole, nor the well-being of the hard working farmers in the visibly Appalachian region of the state (compared to the more cosmopolitan Charleston and the geographic region closer to Washington, D.C.).

Aside from my obvious jealousy, I'm frustrated by what I see as dark times for Racing in general here in my little slice of paradise.

The talk at the Stewards' school was about Transparency. “Transparency” is another one of those lexical phenomena of the new experiential universe; thanks to modern technology and the need for human language to advance us through its inevitable social change). Transparency is a great concept for the graduates of the Stewards' program…but one that Track Management here at Waterford are not likely to champion.

No Cameras on the Back Side; all gates locked; no-one allowed without a license, bar none; all open gates manned by security guards; all and only since the death of Eight Belles, when Transparency became an issue in earnest.

We need our horsemen to be accountable for the way they care for their horses. And we also need to show the world how much we love these animals, at least those of us here who do. And we need the public and the animal rights activists to see for themsleves that if you they going to put some poor slob out of business by making him hold on to a crippled horse, that they are as accountable for him as he is for the horse. It's not all a matter of choice for the greedy owners and trainers, and it’s not an issue we can solve by by taking a position of offense or defense.

Animal rights activists help move the whole mountain forward. We need to see these people as intending the best for the big picture, not as simply ultra-fanatical morons. This means first (and least important), that all the bullshit talk about transparency will be just that - bullshit, and second and most important, that the truth will be relegated to bullshit. So what are we waiting for? Certainly not till we "get Better".

It's all about the money, and if you know it, the money is ultimately not the issue. Hanging on to a concentration of power is the issue. And sooner that you know it, power won't be interpreted or experienced the way it is now, believe it or not, so the idiots are the ones doing the hanging on. The conversation is changing; the Internet and language are pushing lies into marginal existence and general irrelevance. Do we have to wait for everyone else to show us the way or can't we hillbillies be leaders in something?

I’m sure that my ability to understand the whole dynamic is obscured by how little I understand of it all and how deeply inconsequential I feel myself to be in it. Nonetheless, to the degree that I have misspoken; to the degree that I have wrongly charged anyone I have mentioned here; it is to that degree that there must be dialogue.

I’m not averse to being respectful. I mainly am self-effacing and anyone will tell you that. I would never think of speaking this way directly to someone that I have otherwise charged with ignorance, incompetence or apathy. But without my snarky attempts at wit, I don’t think my words would catch anyone’s attention. My forthcoming apology is attendant on my words here being heard.

And I’m not yet expecting it, although I’ve actually tried to hook someone, anyone, with them.