The Rider And Driver, 1893

Harness Racing has begun at Prairie Meadows here in Iowa.  Coupled with the waning colors of fall, I always find myself reminiscent.  Usually this sends me straight to the NY Times Archives, but, ho, I found another source of bygone relevancy today.  Thank you, accidental sagacity!

The Rider and Driver, copyright 1983, courtesy of the Stanhope Libraries is a treasure trove.  An article on the coaching revival, various viewpoints on what constitutes a True Saddle Horse for promotion in the Chicago World's Fair and predictions about the participation of draft horses at said fair, scuttlebutt about the metamorphosis of harness racing with the introduction of the bicycle sulky, and much more all promise to keep me in bedtime reading for awhile.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I:
http://books.google.com/books?id=eAfc5oJJjZoC&pg=PP1#v=onepage&q&f=false

Kind Regards,
Michelle Blackler
Serendipity
www.hossbiz.com
Serendipity is an Accidental Sagacity Corporation company.

The Mermaid's Dad

As Beautifully As I Can

When I was a tween, my mother made me join the town swimming team.  There were a number of reasons why swim team was a complete torture for me.  Firstly, it took time away from riding horses.  Secondly, I have many confirmation faults that can not be disguised by a Speedo.  Standing next to the other lithe, long legged little mermaids on swim team, I felt like a troll with my high waist and thick thighs.  Lastly, while I can swim, I am not a fast swimmer.  Coupled with my fierce competitiveness, I felt like a failure of a troll.  My coach helped [unwittingly] heap insult to injury by assigning me to be the anchor of the B Team's Medley Race.

At every meet, after the beautiful, bronzed dolphin swimmers had completed the race, I stood at the edge of the pool, while my fellow troll teammate floundered through her laps of the butterfly stroke, before I dove in and swam my lengths.  All alone.  When I finished, I drug my rubber limbs from the pool and dove into the anonymity of my beach towel.

"Everyone went to the concession stand," I told myself.  "No one was watching."  Dripping hair about my face disguised the tears of humiliation.

After one particularly gruesome home swimming meet, I was trudging in flip flops, robed in beach towel back to the car, to get the You'll Just Have To Try Harder Lecture when one of the Mermaid's Dads stopped me.  "I just wanted to tell you that my favorite part of these swim meets is watching you in the Medley Relay.  You swim so beautifully."  I hope I remembered to thank him despite my tween stupor at his compliment.

When I climbed into the car, I burst into uncontrollable, convulsive sobs, so moved was I by this man's kindness.  Misunderstanding, my mother said, "Well, if you feel this strongly about it, I guess you don't have to go to swim team anymore."

"No!" I shrieked and those sobs choked out any form of explanation.  She let out one of her characteristic I'll Never Understand You Child Sighs and drove me home.

I finished the season in swim team, trying to swim as beautifully as I could in the medley relay for the Mermaid's Dad. The Troll Team never came close to winning a race, but we came third once.  As I climbed out of the pool, I heard cheering, lead by none other than The Mermaid's Dad.

He died too few years afterwards.  At his funeral, I promised him I would spend the rest of my life trying to do everything I could not do as well as others as beautifully as I could.

For the most part, I have kept my promise.  I try to walk and breathe as beautifully as I can.  I try to ride and drive horses as beautifully as I can.  Whether I can win or not, I try to compete as beautifully as I can.  And whenever I can, I give an awkward little girl a compliment from my heart: as the legacy of the Mermaid's Dad.

Kind Regards,
Michelle Blackler
Serendipity
www.hossbiz.com
Serendipity is an Accidental Sagacity Corporation company.