Teacup (REDUX)

12.2.2016 (first posted this week 2005)

Growing up I had a friend whose folks were very, very wealthy and the things they bought and did, and indeed the house they lived in, showed it. Their house was more like a palace: It had a four-car garage, a pool with a slide built into the mountain they lived on, a shooting range in their basement and - best of all - a two lane automated bowling alley. IN THE HOUSE. Holy shit. Well, like I said, I was pals with this kid and when we were little, the Mexican maid would make us after school snacks and when were a bit older we would take a couple of the horses around the mountain preserve. Yeh. Some places have wetland preserves, others have forest preserves and the desert I grew up in had mountain preserves. Fulla cactus, dust and rattlesnakes. And certain days after school in 1985 or so, a couple dorky teenage kids on horseback.

I wasn't a total stranger to horses. I got kin up Oregon with a big 'ol ranch and they got plenty of horses. On vacation to the ranch my brother, sister and I would coax our cousin into saddling-up a couple of the horses and we'd ride. Fun. This rich friend of mine's horses were not ranch-style work horses. More like "prance around fancy-like" horses. Beautiful, well-fed and meticulously fawned over by their trainers if not their owners. All I did was learn how to saddle them, ride the mountain trails and brush 'em down after. Calm.

For a while.

1985 woulda made me and my pal 15 and being 15 woulda made a guy wanna smoke ciggys and drink slushys and horseback or no, we'd get it done. If it weren't for the Cubs cap, OP shorts and Black Flag T-shirt I woulda looked like the frikkin' Marlboro Man up there. Oh, and for the 15 yrs old part. And for the fancy horse. And Vans. And $5k saddle. And no guns. OK. I think you get the picture.

Invariably two 15 yr olds would run out of ciggys and need a neon green slushy and need to get them some so they'd ride them horseys off the mountain and down the road to the 7/11. Horseback riders were not an uncommon sight in the desert city back then. We'd get a lot of stares, a few honks and lots of room: Them pansy drivers didn't want anything to do with a big 'ol horse - prissy horse or no. 7/11 didn't accommodate horses anymore as they'd removed the hitching-posts a few years back when folks began to use the motor car. So either my friend or I would stay there in a parking space with both bridles while the other would go in for smokes and slushys. Twice, TWICE I tell you, when I had horse duty, my horse took a huge dump in the parking space.

The first time was the best: My pal goes in and I wait. A few seconds later my horse let 'er rip and I started laughing my head off. There was a small group of people gawking at the horses and they too began to laugh. My pal came out with the goods and the 7/11 dude came out too, initially to look at the horses but immediately noticed the giant pile of horse shit and his look of amused wonder became that of rage. "You - you - you clean that up!" he stammered. "What? No way," I said. By this time my pal was on his horse and he said the same. "No way, man." The 7/11 dude was pissed and took a step toward us and thought about it but quickly assessed his chances against two jerky teenagers on horseback and decided against it. "You never come back!" he yelled as we put the spurs to 'em and trotted on out of there. Ha! Well we did go back, often, and by the time he'd forgotten about the poop my horse pooped again. Makes me laugh 20 yrs later.

Tonight - Tempest (by request)

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!