Black Stallions and Opinions

It was a very typical Sunday after a fantastic finals night.  The stall curtains were coming down and the excitement of the show was drawing to a close.  The night before was great as the best of the preliminary put on a show and now as the morning sun shed its light the dust was settled.  With the trailer, packed I headed over to the stalls of another trainer to pick up a horse I was hauling home for a friend.  After exchanging pleasantries I offered my condolences to the other trainer, who like myself, had some bad luck in the preliminary and missed the finals.  His sharp response caught me a bit off guard “he is not a very nice horse!”  As I took my friends horse to my trailer I looked into the stall of the beautiful black stallion the other trainer had referenced.  As I walked away I could not help but reflect on the horses record; he had won a major regional futurity, been an open futurity finalist, made the NRBC open finals the year before, and consistently marked very high scores, his lifetime earning had to be near 80,000 to a 100,000.  Sounds like a crappy horse.

For the past month this has been on my mind, what makes something good or great? For me the Black stallion is a fantastic horse; he has ability, looks, and a great show record.  Everything from the outside tells me he is not a good horse, he is a very good horse.  Yet to the one who rides him he is just the opposite, he is in deed not a good horse.  So what is something that consistently does its job and brings home a good paycheck if not good.  Could it be the Obama truth factor?

By the Obama truth factor I mean the Presidents idea that truth is relative to the perception of the individual.  He does not lie because from his perspective it’s true.  From my perspective the guy still smokes crack and is full of deceit and lies.  But given the perspective of the fore mentioned horse and my opinion of him and the opinion of the other trainer maybe the president is on to something, in his world that is.  This then leads to the question are statistics truth and goodness an opinion derived from the interpretation of the statistics?

Of course all this deep philosophical thinking over the response to a condolence comment really can be painful at times.  Then again trying to understand the split tongue of a politician can be as well.  So at the end of the thinking, I have decided that the black stallion is a good horse and that’s my opinion.  Our white president with an African heritage is a brilliant man who has a hard time accepting that the world is black and white in terms of what is in the end true.  Guess in the end you never know what can come from giving a ride home to a horse your friend purchased, hope he is a good one. 

The satisfied perfectionist

With the horses and tack loaded all that was left was the 81-mile drive home.  Sitting in the back the kids settled into the Lion King with their headphones, while my i-pad played the soothing songs for escape from a long, three day, horse show.  In the seat next to me were two large bronze trophies, the prize from a winning run in the Open Derby.  They brought some solace to my unhappy mood a strange yet familiar discontent with a very successful weekend.  I had made a very nice run, scored lower than I had expected but the placement was good.  The never- ending desire for perfection left me feeling empty in a moment I have worked to achieve for years.  As my headlights broke the darkness of a familiar road it was a strange place to be.

The passing miles brought one word to mind over and over, satisfied.  Why could I not feel satisfied I had after all accomplished what I had set out to do three days before I had won the Derby.  I had marked a respectable score under a very conservative judge.  With only one very borderline deduction for a debatable over spin I had put together a clean run with a high degree of dificulty. Yet looking at the trophies and the thousands of dollars that came with them I had a hollow heart.

The obvious question is why would I fill unsatisfied if I had accomplished what I had set out to do?  The answer is in the second horse I showed that night.  Although she is not as good as Moonshine, the horse I won on, she is a very nice horse and I expected to do well with her and hoped for a first and second placing.  When I was walking out of the arena on her I had expected to hear a score that would bring that goal very close to a reality, instead I heard a mark five points lower that what I expected and everyone else in the arena, for that matter.  The result once again left me lacking in perfection.  So I had won but not been perfect hence unsatisfied.

So the never-ending war rages on inside the desire to be perfect and yet find some sense of satisfaction.  Gratefully in the back a little boy took a moment from his movie and made a simple statement, “Dad can I tell you something?” I responded “yes.”  To which he replied, “I love you!” All the anger and disappointment disappeared at that moment.  As one of my favorite artist Jewel reminds us in her song satisfied “horses are built to run. The sun was meant to shine above.  Flowers are made to bloom and then there’s us, we were born to love, we were born to love.”  The only source of true satisfaction comes through expression of our love through word, deed, and expression to those who mean the most to us.  If we fail to lay it all on the line and give of ourselves nothing will bring us satisfaction.  Without those we love all we have is trophies to dust and a few thousand bucks. Perhaps the perfectionist in me will one day take first and second in a big show, so I can drive home unhappy about not taking first second and third. I will however hold on for all I am worth to an amazing wife, kids, and great horses like Moonshine.  Those are the things I love and the only things that satisfy. 

Spring, Dust and Mayans

The sunshine felt good today as it shed the last grasps of winter in-lue of the summer rays.  The threats of spring snow seem a distant memory of weeks gone by as the dust rises from the outdoor arena.  Spring is in full bloom, while the first baby of the year runs a few feet farther from her mother every day exploring the new world.  The eternal season of hope is upon us and all around are the promises of good things to come.  The last spring of the Mayan calendar, the 2,012 of our current system.  So here we sit in the changing times looking forward to the future.  I wonder if the Mayan’s realized it would be a Presidential election year?

The real interesting thing in realation to all this is the Mayans figured their civilization would survive 1,112 years longer than it did.  The last leaders of the collapsing empire seeing the inevitable began to offer people as sacrifice to change the fate of their rule.  Unable to appease the Gods the mighty civilization that was too big to fail became a part of history.  The great cities reclaimed by the Jungle, a unified language split into over 70 variations.  Unimaginable wealth buried in the tombs of the greats of the past.  While those who survived the great fall continued to live off the land, clinging to their “guns and religion”.

I suspect if the Mayans got the whole end of the world right, those who know how to farm, hunt and survive off the land will keep praying and living happily into the year 2013.  CEO’s, Lawyers, and a host of others who offer relatively useless services will disappear in despair.  Reclaimed by the jungle the great cities of our civilization reduced to nothing more than a mix of stone and history. If people are not producing something productive and beneficial they need to be called what they are, useless.  Much like the leaders of self absorbed civilizations of the past. I fear many who try to lead us, really aim to sacrifice us to their Gods of power and hate. 

I am glad the sun felt really good today and we are in a season of change.  I love riding outside, having the sun sting my winter white skin.  I enjoy looking at the pasture and seeing my baby run and play but staying ever so vigilant of where mom is.  I am not worried about the end of the world, so far everyone has miss calculated that.  I am still sure the cup is half full.  Not sure what riding in a dusty arena has to do with the history of the Mayans but sure don’t want to be like them.  Still think its funny they predicted the end of the world the same time as a presidential election.

From the Dark to the Light

In the distance is the outline of a man walking his horse; the bright arena lights however do not show color or the details of whom he is.  The horse follows quietly with his head low slowly swaying the reins side to side.  He methodically moves to his destination and in a few steps is out of my sight.  Walking on the edge of the shadow I never come to know who he is only the shape of his body and the willingness of his horse to follow.  Now vanished from my sight I ponder what is ahead for this team of mysterious nature.  The amazing 1000 pound animal and his 150 pound director. Off they go to work to train to find harmony, hoping that tomorrow they might win a chance to compete in the Finals and win a prize.  The work of a night at the horse show.

Often I fill we travel on the edge of light moving forward striving to come to something great.  Others sit farther in the darkness and question, judge, support, mock. Some rest inside the lighted arena already part of the great chase for fame and fortune.  The practice pen will determine in large part how things will go tomorrow.  Yet often the worst night before becomes the greatest run of ones life in the morning.  Sometimes it’s a long walk from the stalls to the pen and an even longer walk back to the same stall after.  Regardless of outcomes there always is a walk.

Right now a lot of folks are sitting in the dark waiting.  A few have already won a prize and gone home while others are pounding it out trying to find success tomorrow. I do see though long periods of no one taking a walk. It is inherently obvious that to get to the practice pen to get ready to show we need to walk.  So why are you sitting in the dark by the stall wondering who is that dark silhouette walking.  Why are you not saddled up and walking?  In my particular case at the moment the practice pen is only open to riders who show tomorrow so I have to wait until 11:00 p.m.  This however is reality my thoughts are more figurative.

When is it time to move forward and put the things that trouble us in the past?  The obvious answer is now, but what if the arena is closed to us at the moment because its not our turn, what do we do as we sit and wait?  Clean stalls, read a book, visit with friends and call the wife. When that is done we write in a blog read another book visit with another friend, all the while doing something but not moving toward what we want we are just waiting.  But then again there is a right time for action and is it now?

I am starting to understand there is a time and a season for everything.  There is a time to practice, a time to show. There is always a time to clean stalls.  There is a time in our life we need to struggle, financially, spiritually, physically, and emotionally.  We do this so when the season for money, spirituality, health and success come we embrace them and make the most of them.  Sometimes it really sucks sitting in the bad waiting for the season of the good, but just as 11:00 will come in just under an hour so to will the good times.  The great depression created the greatest generation, I know the great recession will aid in producing another great generation if when the time comes we get in the practice pen, then give it our all in the show pen.  Life is a season for gaining wisdom; we are gaining a lot right now.  Sometimes we need to just look a little harder at how to get from the dark stalls to the light.  We all however have drew up at a certain time and when it’s our turn we will be ready, as long as we take that walk from the dark to the light.

To love and hate a truck

A couple years ago the time had come to purchase a new truck.  After a long search I found a new Ford F-450, Diesel, crew cab, 4x4 dually, for a good price.  From the start I have had a love hate relationship with the truck.  For starters the truck is white a color I hate.  The interior however is King Ranch leather with heated seats, DVD, navigation, and satellite radio all things I love.  The truck has great power, handles amazingly and the dually gives me the stability while pulling my six horse trailer, all things I love when the truck is running.  The thing I hate is the trips to the service shop and gas stations.  The truck has an exhaust system that traps particles then injects fuel into the exhaust to burn the particles to decrease emissions.  When it works the exhaust cleaning system makes it so I get about 5 miles a gallon.  When it does not work the truck shuts to half power and I have to pull over, turn it off, and hope the computer resets.  If it does not I have to take the truck to the repair shop ( 6 trips for this in just over three years.)  In addition to the poor fuel economy the strain on the engine from the exhaust clean has caused two cooling systems in the truck to crack and need replaced.  I hate the truck.

A couple months ago I had a friend tell me about an exhaust delete kit I could put on the truck.  Basically it is a chip that tells the truck's computer the exhaust is clean and replaces the muffler system with and old standard one.  I took my friends advice a week ago and put the kit in.  My truck now runs cooler and has doubled its fuel economy to 10 mpg while pulling my big six-horse trailer, and 16 mpg when just driving it around.

While driving to Houston Texas and actually passing gas stations I could not help but think of the irony in my truck and the government.  New government regulations are aiming to force car companies to improve the fuel economy in cars, while other government regulations from the EPA made my truck get 5 miles a gallon.  Things like this make me love and hate my government.

I spend my life outside working with the creations of this world.  One of my favorite things to do is pack up some horses and head into the Rocky Mountains and enjoy old growth forests and listen to the Elk bugle.  My 5-year-old son knows if we pack it in we pack it out. I want to decrease my "carbon footprint" and be a good steward of the land.  I also need to be able to afford to drive to the mountains and horse shows.

The truck shows us a solution.  If we get rid of half the government regulations we currently have and allow after market solutions to help performance through the private sector mileage improves.  If I am only slightly increasing my emissions, about 2% in this case, but decreasing my oil consumption by half we are on a good track to finding a balanced solution on how to drive my truck were I need to go and protecting the places I want to go.  With practical solutions to radical ideas we can also start to end the love hate relationship we currently have with our government.  The best part is I now just love my truck.

History and $8 fuel

The highway runs strait and the road beats its rhythm to the tune of the six tires that hold my F-450 to the road.  In tow the horses on board are passing the time while I take in the never ending white line that will take us to our destination.  We travel the great interstates and sometimes highways of a big land.  Every once in a while if I am lucky I can see the great wagon trains moving along side me or a lone Indian watching me cross his sacred home.  The whisper of a west gone by is often louder than the satellite radio that projects the country rock of Eric Church.  All this old mixed with new just keeps on trucking as another mile post passes and the hope of a great horse show waits.  The only disruption to the ride is when I stop and fuel up, currently a very painful experience to the tune of a good 150 bucks or so for 30 gallons of diesel.  As the pit stop ends I hear the voice of those who want our fuel prices to rise to the rates of Europe. I look back at the wide expanse of the western United States and ask why do we want to be Europe when we have all this?

  When I ponder this Idea of being the new Europe I must ask why are we in a hurry to be a “has been” empire? A nation sunk with dept and a spoiled young generation of entitlement who fail to produce and fail to compete and invent.  The sun now sets on the British Empire, the Spanish have had their conquests, and the French seem more interested in color coordinating their uniforms than actually fighting for anything.  Italy has produced some amazing people, art, and philosophy, but Rome is a vanished dream from two thousand years ago.  In other parts the remnants of failed communism are complemented by horse drawn plows and poverty.  Beautiful architecture is surrounded by memories of people who once worshiped Christ but now are Godless.  Islam is quietly fighting and winning its second holy crusade into Spain and France.  Germany is reminded constantly of losing two world wars as it tries to carry the Euro currency.  When I look at Europe I see what is left of greatness suppressed in history, a land of $8 fuel and history.

I am not ready to stand by and see the United States become the next England the former most powerful nation on the earth.  I will not stand by and see my children raised with the idea that we used to be a great world power; we used to be the light on the hill.  The greatest days are always before us, the next Steve Jobs is in Woodrow Wilson Elementary in small town U.S.A.  The Doctor that will cure cancer is attending Freemont Middle School, and the first person to walk the surface of mars in rolling around in a stroller in some Cody municipal park.  Somewhere in the Bible belt is a young man reading his Bible who will cry repentance to the masses, while two Mormon missionaries teach the parents of a future prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  A young girl in downtown sits at her first recital and will one day change our idea of the power of music.  In the heartland a Grandpa drives his grandson across the field that one day will be the grandsons’ way to feed the greatest nation on earth.

Our greatest days are before us I will not pay $8 a gallon so we can become something that used to be great.  We are not better than the people of Europe or anywhere else for that matter.  We are good people in America and there are good people everywhere.  We are however a nation of liberty a nation of hope.  We are an empire that makes the world better because we are good.  We should not embrace ideas that make us less than what we are. Or allow people to lead us who try to move us into the shadows of a fallen empire long betroved of royalty.  We are one nation under God with liberty and justice for all.  We cannot pay Europes gas prices because we have something here to great to become history.  Looking out the window I see a great sacrifice by those who came here and started our history, now we must continue to write it.  When future generations travel our highways may they see us on our horses and remember to keep this land free and strong, not a picture in a history book.