So I started watching the Derby with my Dad when I was a kid. My mom'd had a horse when she was young, and she'd always spoken of it as being this sort of magical playmate.
I was scared of horses back then, but I liked looking at them. Then at camp one summer I was assigned to the stables, and ultimately got over my fear.
In my 20s, I fell in with this group of guys about 15 to 20 years older than me. They were old bachelor curmudgeons who I met because I worked with one of them. I was his boss. He was my senior editor.
That arrangement was ridiculous, but he was very cool about it and a huge help to me in that difficult workplace.
One afternoon I met up with them at a local LSU hangout The Chimes (link). They were smoking stogies and arguing the best performance by Orson Welles. The Mars radio show was tossed out as was Citizen Kane. I weighed in with The Stranger and instantly upped my cred.
They started tolerating my presence, and before long they were including me in their rituals, one of which was juleps and the Derby on race day.
Before it was all over they'd even invited me to their annual Christmas Eve day-long "dinner" at Galatoire's in New Orleans (link). I never could go because my mom's birthday is Christmas Eve, but it was nice to be invited.
I miss those guys.
Anyway, my daughters are finally old enough to care, and on Saturday, we sat down about ten minutes before race time and I explained it all to them. It was fun. They were into it, and as we talked, I realized how much like anything involving hard work, skill, persistence, and a little bit of luck it was.
Like getting a book published, for instance.
We work hard, train, hone our skills, then we pass our horse off to an agent and hope for the best. We're advised to put our heads down, not obsess, write while you wait (or as I like to say, "just keep swimming").
Keep putting one foot in front of the other, and before long (the hope is), you'll look up and you're there. You've made it.
Right?
Who knows. You might even be the 20-1 shot, and on your 13th try, on a horse you weren't even supposed to ride, you win.
Have a great week, reader-friends!
Quick reminder: Our "Laughter is the Best Medicine" blogfest is next Monday (link). I'll post another reminder Thursday--should be a laughing good time.
Til Thursday~ <3
I was scared of horses back then, but I liked looking at them. Then at camp one summer I was assigned to the stables, and ultimately got over my fear.
That arrangement was ridiculous, but he was very cool about it and a huge help to me in that difficult workplace.
One afternoon I met up with them at a local LSU hangout The Chimes (link). They were smoking stogies and arguing the best performance by Orson Welles. The Mars radio show was tossed out as was Citizen Kane. I weighed in with The Stranger and instantly upped my cred.
Before it was all over they'd even invited me to their annual Christmas Eve day-long "dinner" at Galatoire's in New Orleans (link). I never could go because my mom's birthday is Christmas Eve, but it was nice to be invited.
I miss those guys.
Anyway, my daughters are finally old enough to care, and on Saturday, we sat down about ten minutes before race time and I explained it all to them. It was fun. They were into it, and as we talked, I realized how much like anything involving hard work, skill, persistence, and a little bit of luck it was.
Like getting a book published, for instance.
We work hard, train, hone our skills, then we pass our horse off to an agent and hope for the best. We're advised to put our heads down, not obsess, write while you wait (or as I like to say, "just keep swimming").
Keep putting one foot in front of the other, and before long (the hope is), you'll look up and you're there. You've made it.
Who knows. You might even be the 20-1 shot, and on your 13th try, on a horse you weren't even supposed to ride, you win.
Quick reminder: Our "Laughter is the Best Medicine" blogfest is next Monday (link). I'll post another reminder Thursday--should be a laughing good time.
Til Thursday~ <3
