Somebody's gotta be unafraid to lead the freek parade!


Where were you?

When I am old and gray, and walking around with a cane, taking my Metamucil and sitting on the porch, listening to my Tony Bennett albums and longing for the good ol' days, which, for me, will be any minute now, they will still be asking me the same question: "Where were you when you heard the news?"

When they ask this, and they will, they certainly will not be talking about the horrors of 9/11. Or the capture of Saddam Hussein. Or the Challenger explosion. Or the O.J. Simpson verdict. Or tonight's American Idol finale. Or the election results from a hotly contested national race. No, they will undoubtedly be talking about Barbaro. Barbarella? Barbarino? Barbie? No, Barbaro...the horse. And I will whack them on the shins with my cane.

This past weekend, a horse named Barbaro suffered several bad leg fractures during the Preakness Stakes, one of the *ahem* legs of the Triple Crown. Now, I feel horrible about the horse. Really, I do. However, since the incident, everything from the local TV and news stations, to the cable news outlets and USA Today have been covering everything this horse goes through. Wall-to-wall coverage!

I would suggest if this had happened to Carl Lewis or Jesse Owens during an Olympic heat there wouldn't be this much press coverage! I'm not making this a racial thing, by any means, but a complaint from my very soul! I love animals, but I don't think the people in the media value ANY human life to the degree they seem to this horse. I can imagine if Barbaro "doesn't make it", i.e., his legs cannot heal properly, they'll practically hold a State funeral for him when they EUTHANIZE him and send him off to the glue factory! I can see it now...the Hollywood left will show up and begin weeping openly for the cameras. The President, who has far better things to do, will actually have to make an official statement. Why, this horse, one of God's most beautiful creations, will probably get better press in death than did Pope John Paul II! Any minute now, someone will have the movie rights. Hey, maybe they can get Tobey Maguire to play the jockey, like he did in Seabiscuit. That'll be exciting.

Listen, for what it's worth, I was watching the local news near the track at the time, and they had a CORRESPONDENT on the scene at the hospital for "any late-breaking news on his condition". So stop asking, already!


Bad gift idea

Never, ever, ever get your wife, mother, sister, cousin, next door neighbor lady, boss or any other woman you plan to speak to ever again, a "gift certificate" for a plastic surgeon. 'Kay? No, I don't know from experience, just common sense. My wife is beautiful, although she doesn't believe I think so most of the time.