Girl, look at my horse (He's turned out!) - I'm clueless and I don't know it

Ok, I am not proud to admit it, but sometimes I watch Family Feud.

I know, I know.  It is not high-brow TV.  But it is something good to have on in the background while you are making dinner or lying around in the bathtub, or whatever else it is you are doing that only uses half or less of your brain.

That said - I did actually enjoy an episode the other night.  It was "Celebrity Family Feud" (where the word "Celebrity" is used very generously).  In this instance, the Celebrities were NBA versus MLB All Stars.  So they really were relatively famous and talented people (versus Bachelors versus Bachelorettes.  Or Paula Deen's family versus some other alt-right Celebrity family all vying for a chance to redeem themselves by doing something light hearted and charming with Steve Harvey on TV).

The channel caught my eye because one of the NBA players was Muggsy Bogues.  Why would I care about this?  Well, he was a point guard for the Toronto Raptors, which is somewhat interesting to me, however the real story here is that he is the "Arab / Appaloosa pulling off a 70%+ Grand Prix Freestyle" of the NBA.

See if you can guess which guy he is in the Family Feud lineup.

The answer to your question is... 5'3"

Now I could just spend some time writing about how, although Muggsy made it to the big leagues - literally - you are an idiot to think that he is living proof that there is no genetic advantage to being tall in the NBA, or some other obvious story line that ties into the fact that yes, Arab/Appaloosas can sometimes do dressage but picking a purpose bred animal is a much better bet. However - the more interesting part is - although it was Muggsy who got me watching in the first place- it was Pedro Martinez who got me to stay with the game right through to Fast Money.

Poor Pedro. He did everything wrong.

"Pedro!  100 average Joe Americans surveyed... their top answers are on the board!"

"Name a word that rhymes with Mommy!"
He proudly announced his answer was... MY-YUMMY!  (as in, the CSI infested city in Florida, said with a thick Dominican accent)

"100 men surveyed - how many fist fights have you been in!"
Pedro's answer - said with conviction - "15!"

Here is Pedro taking down the 72 year old manager of the Yankees

"Name someone who you have to negotiate with"
A-HA! - he had a great answer for this one too... "My Manager!"

I don't need to tell you the total count for his answers were 0 - 0 - 0

But even though he was possibly the shittiest Family Feud player I have ever watched and he fucked up the chances for his team to win the Fast Money for charity - he did it honestly.  With a smile and charming demeanor.

The problem wasn't Pedro - it was that he was oblivious to the fact that he lives in a different universe than the rest of us..  who have never punched anyone (even during times we have really, really wanted to), and have no one to manage anything in our lives (if I did, I wouldn't be wasting my time blogging, I would be working on something constructive).   He lives in a World where understanding the nuances of English literacy is not a must and having a crazy strong Dominican accent has no bearing whatsoever on your success in life. If you are a MLB All-Star, you can rhyme your favourite US Cities with whatever you would like, and no one cares.  Until you go on Family Feud.

It isn't that Martinez didn't work hard to get where he is today.  He came from very humble roots. And had to play for the Expos.

It is just that if you take him out of his world where he is a phenomenal success, and put him into an arena where we know more than he does, he comes off as a little out of touch and quirky.  You might possibly think he is an idiot.  Or, if you are less generous, a cocky asshole (really - who would assume anyone else has a Manager, let alone 100 people surveyed at a Mall in Springfield anywhere, USA?).  And sure, we could blame it on the fact that he made more money in a season than I will in a lifetime.  But really, he is just using a different frame of reference for the world.

And this, my friends, is how I found the Category 1, director's chair riding horse ladies to be.

They were a little quirky. And more than a little out of touch with what I was up against, as a Category 2, subset 2 rider.

But not once was one of them anything but over the top nice to me during my time spent coming and going from full training barns.

And why would they have any reason to NOT be nice?  We were not in any sort of competition whatsoever for - well - anything.

They got all of the trainer's attention - whenever they wanted it.  (I was once told that weekday morning lessons were out of the question for me, because the morning was dedicated to this type of client.  Oh well, I told myself - just one more reason to trundle off to the office - Day Care is not open to the plebes between nine and noon).

They had the most beautiful horses - so there was no need to put Ms. V down in sly, passive aggressive ways to make sure I knew that their horse was nicer, further along, better moving etc.  It was obvious.

And they had no desire to become great riders.  So the fact that I could actually sit the trot after months and months of trying, or do a canter transition without drama, or any of the other things that I had fought for and won - mattered not a whit to them.  They had no jealousy of anything I had or would ever accomplish with Ms. V.

What they were, was irritating and sometimes clueless.  Just like Pedro. It wasn't that they wanted to be this way - they just were, because of their point of reference to the whole situation.

If the trainer dropped me like a hot stone to help them with - well - absolutely everything they needed to have done - leaving me with an excuse disgused as a directive to "finish up with some free walk work" or something else that you knew meant "finish up with something you can't possibly mess up even if you are all on your own" - they didn't hear this.  They heard "oh great, Curmudgeon is just finishing up her lesson!  What great timing I have!  That means the trainer is ready to dedicate their attention to Me ME ME!"

It isn't their fault that net neutrality doesn't exist in the barnyard. Or probably, in many arenas of their life.  If everyone always hustles to help you out, you assume it's normal.

They also were not cognizant of the impact of the cost of things on my ability to pay for them.  "Great news Curmudgeon!  Clarice and I had a pow-wow and decided that we really need TWO tack stalls and a grooming bay at the next show!  And one stall to put our wicker furniture in so we have a dry place to drink wine when it rains (because it will. It always will)".  What do you say when you are on a budget and your cut of the cost of the "great" things others have agreed to as a committee without you show up on your invoice?

(Question - is there a politically correct way to say "if I keep my tack in the trunk of my car, and braid in my stall - do I still have to pay for all of this extraneous stuff?"  Answer - no).

Beyond the perks which money can buy - they were irritating in other ways too.  Not because they wanted to be.  It just couldn't be helped.  If someone has not tried to do difficult things on horseback - they have no appreciation for what difficult things on horseback are.  Or what might make it even more difficult for someone to do them.

So, as they pop in and out of the arena without warning trailing saddle pads or blankets, or up and down out of their director's chairs like targets at a redneck shooting range - they do not relate the fact that your horse is spooking to the fact that they are wandering around willy nilly in an unpredictable fashion.  "Oh, I guess Ms. V is just feeling HOT today!  Is she like this all the time?"  (No. Not when your ass stays in the chair. Or you are not here).

And so on.  But, none of this was done with malice or jealousy or any other intention that was in any way directed at me personally.  Or meant to make anyone feel badly, or anything else I could possibly feel catty about.

Sorry to disappoint.

So, as much as I am sure there are a lot of you out there that would like to hear that I hated these well to do bitches in their little Pikeur suits (really, who the Hell struggles into sweaty tall boots with no intention of ever riding?  That's just weird), really I didn't.  Because for the most part, they were good at heart.

It was no different than spending time with my friends with kids who don't understand that watching impromptu ballet performances, or being interrupted every three words by your darling child any time I try to speak, or being cajoled into buying yet another box of shitty frozen steaks for the latest hockey tournament or whatever just isn't my thing, but because you are generally nice people, and I enjoy your company more than any alternatives I have at my disposal - I will look past it, smile, and let it slide.

But make no mistake.  The minute one of these ladies decides to belly on up to the mounting block and become a "rider" - uh..well, things seem to change a little.

Note to service providers who have satisfied customers - you are jerks. FYI.

People ask me, Curmudgeon, now that you don't have a horse, how do you spend your weekends?

Well, I sleep in more.  I lie on the couch and watch CNN (they have this really good sit-com on right now - it is about a billionaire who takes over the White House and chaos ensues.  You should check it out.  It is entertaining when it is not terrifying).  I eat things I shouldn't.  I drink Mimosas while lying on the couch and eating things I shouldn't, because for some reason beyond logic, society has decided it doesn't have to be five o'clock anywhere to enjoy them.

If only there were some sort of Adult Day Care I could attend.  Maybe it would cost about the same as daycare for a real child, $1000 + a month.  With fun activities. Maybe horse riding. 

But I guess there isn't (or I didn't think there was, in any case) so instead... I am embarrassed to admit it... I sometimes go to the mall.  

It is actually the same mall I went to as a kid (I remember going to the door-crasher grand opening event with my Mom and her suburban housewife friends, and hanging out in the video arcade as a teenager).  Back in the day, malls were kind of one-size-fits-all.  Now, they are tailored to a demographic.  

This particular mall is now one of the "Luxury" malls in the area - pimped out with a Saks Fifth Ave store and a Pandora line that is never less than 50 people long - and all of the cool fountains are gone, which is really too bad.  

I guess after a grueling shopping session for overpriced shoes and bracelets (I loved the recent SNL skit on Pandora), one's body screams out for overpriced fruit juice to complete the trifecta, and so there are also a lot more health and wellness type stores filling up the halls now as well.  

It was at one of these stores that I saw this:

What the hell is it, Curmudgeon?  A giant cup of pablum?

Excellent guess.  But no.  It is in fact, a Golden Coconut Bliss Smoothie with Turmeric.

Apparently, this beverage "delivers a delicious, creamy, lightly sweet profile and is sweetened coconut milk and nature's candy - dates (dried apricots are likely totally pissed off that dates are so full of themselves that they feel they can claim this title. Jerks).

Beyond all of this, "the golden hue comes from turmeric which is a spice known for its anti-inflammatory properties".  The smoothie is also made with one whole banana, is gluten friendly (thank God, gluten needs some friends, everyone is trying to throw poor gluten under the bus constantly these days), is dairy free and vegan.

How much did this miracle cost?  I can't actually tell you, because who buys JUST a Golden coconut Bliss Smoothie with Turmeric?  You have to adorn it with a wheatgrass blast shot, or whey protein boost, or something else which will run the value up another few dollars and jack around the price as advertised on the board.  

Bottom line is, by the time you walk out with your Bliss on, you are looking at around $5.00.  And 300 kcals.

But take heart.  While I sat on the bench squinting my eyes at the menu board trying to determine if I was imagining things or if this was really real (and also wondering why, if turmeric is so miraculous, people who eat a lot of curry aren't all physically exceptional specimens, or why anyone would choke back a banana curry milkshake instead of actually eating an awesome Southeast Asian curry specialty of some sort) - I noticed something strange. 

Customers entered the store.. the people in the store sold them EXACTLY WHAT THEY WANTED - and they left.  And everyone was happy. 

Except me.  I wanted to run up to each idiot that spent $5.00 on a banana curry milkshake and smack the stupid thing out of their hands and tell them to get half a brain, because drinking 1/2 tsp. of something whipped into a fancy fattening beverage when you could buy a kilo of the same thing at bulk barn for the same price is totally moronic. And expecting it to do anything for your health other than expand your bum if you slurp too many is even more idiotic still. 

No - no - wait.  What I REALLY should have done is run into the store, and told the person who was merrily blending up smoothies, making their customers happy - that they SUCK.  Who except a demonic evil minded person would sell someone exactly what they want, and makes them happy, if I personally think it is a bad idea and a horrible business model?  That is fucking crazy talk. 

And if running a successful business using this model and satisfying customers allows them to live a comfortable life, with a nice house, and support their family - well, screw them.  They should have the ethics to toss those bananas and overpriced vita-mix blenders right in the trash and do something honest for a living for once.  And only make smoothies that are really healthy, not bullshit fake frame, monkey razor blade healthy  (i.e. - not make smoothies at all, but open a fruit stand).

So in any case, to head on back over to dressage - I took my mind off of the horror of $5.00 banana curry milkshakes, by pondering a question posed by a COTHer.

If developing horses and teaching clients isn't the professional horse trainers job, what is?

Very expensive adult day care?

And, I am going to say that in my experience, if we are talking Dressage - the answer is kind of - yes.  

Because really there are only a few types of customers at a professional Dressage trainer's barn.  They are all adults (or their nearly adult children).  They mostly come out during the day.  And they expect to be showered with a lot of love and care.  (Just like daycare, with no diapers. But since you have to pick up horse turds, it is pretty much a wash on the poo front). 

Let us review them.  

First - there are people who can afford amazing horses, but choose not to ride these horses themselves, but instead ride director's chairs wearing dressage inspired clothing. They expect their chosen trainer to ride an unpredictable creature, in a flawless manner, while keeping it sound and healthy.  Their role is to smile and enjoy the show.  What if the show is not what as expected?  Well, then, watch your back trainer - if anything goes wrong - your fault or not - they will take their toys elsewhere, and walk out the door with $1000 ++ of your monthly income before expenses. 

Second - there are the people who can afford amazing horses, and want to attempt to ride them themselves.  These clients expect exactly all of the same things as the first group - but they also expect the trainer to transform them into riders, regardless of their natural skill level or how much effort they put into the project

Third - there are the people who expect all of the same things as the second group, but instead of transforming themselves into riders, this group expects the trainer to transform their darling almost adult teenage children into riders, regardless of THEIR natural skill level or how much effort THEY want to put into the project - which may be next to none on both counts. 

Now - add a subset of each of the above categories.  Replace the phrase "people who can afford amazing horses" with the phrase "people who cannot actually afford this whole exercise, but are doing what they can to trick everyone into thinking they can and pull off the gig anyways"

Then - one final subset - Replace the phrase "people who can afford amazing horses" with the phrase "people who cannot afford amazing horses but have ordinary every day horses that they expect to perform as well as amazing horses, but still can afford to pay the bills".  (if you have any doubts here, Category 2, subset 2, would be where you found yours truly).

The last phase of this exercise, now that we have our categories defined, along with subsections - ask yourself - if you are a dressage trainer, which of these people would YOU most like to deal with?

Remember, you have only 10, maybe 20 stalls.  So you can mix and match here, but whoever you choose, you are limited.  Every client that walks in - or out - of the double dutch inspired doors is a huge chunk of your livelihood.  

And - depending on where you live, there are only maybe 500 of these clients roaming the streets, and 50 trainers vying for their money (or lack thereof, unbeknownst to you, in the case of subset number 1 - If you mess up and wind up with anyone in subset 1, you have just kissed goodbye a lot of time, money, and possibly turned away an actual paying customer because there were not stalls available. ). 

Go ahead!  Pick the best ones!

I don't know about you - but as long as the 20 people I wound up with were pleasant and reasonably normal and paid their bills, and treated their horses well - I would be pretty up to offering an exceptional daycare experience if it made everyone happy - i.e - if in their eyes, I was developing horses and teaching clients. 

And if I did decide to paint on a smile, offer up a carafe of Pino Grigio in my viewing room, say Braaavvv!... as long as the horses and clients were all happy as a Millennials sipping a curry banana milkshakes at the mall - would I really be doing anything wrong?  If I worked in any other profession on Earth, offering exactly what the customer wants in a way that makes them feel happy and special is pretty much how the gig of "making a living" goes.  

Any customer service role is really Daycare for someone, who wants something, and wants to feel really good when they get it. Not sure why it should be any different for Dressage Trainers.

Anyway, I could go on and on, but let us break down these segments in a little more detail, over the next few posts and few months that I spent with Coach C....

Don't go changin'.. to try to please me..(Oh wait - you haven't)

Hmm.  Let's see.  I haven't gone on COTH forums (Chronicle of the Horse) in about a year.  I wonder what is up over there?

How much has changed in the world of dressage and message boards, I wondered to myself on this slow and snowy Tuesday.  Dum de dum dumm. Hmm. Hmm Hmmmm. La la.

Oh my lord.  Woah.

Answer to my question - nothing. Not. A. Thing.

This is the second time I have used this image.  Which tells us something about dressage.

Well if you too have been there within the last few weeks, I don't need to tell you of what I speak here today.  If you haven't, and if you are up to it.. I am referring to the spills, chills and thrills of the Del Mar Livestream debacle. 

Del Mar Livestream Debacle

I haven't even made it to the Dropbox "Ladies of Iron Horse" rebuttal.  I really think I need wine for that, and although I do agree that it is always five o'clock somewhere, it is still before noon here and I will adhere to social norms today.

(Coles notes version for those of you who don't have the strength to go wading through the muck - very weak rider on stellar, confirmed in the 70%'s GP horse puts in horrible yank-n-spank I-2 test. Test is live streamed, along with commentary. Scores 50% then eliminated. Chaos ensues on COTH).

Why on Earth was I snooping around on COTH in the first place, after a year, you may wonder?

It is a bit of a long story, however the crux of it is that I ran into a  reader who asked me why I quit, and if I ever considered finishing the story, as people would like to know how it all ends.

The answer is - I think about finishing the story all of the time.  It makes me sad to think I had this fun project going on, and now, it sits stagnant, with so many people still to be mocked. I read over some of the old posts I made, and remember fondly the stupid shit that happened to me, and wonder what masochistic part of me made me keep on going.  I thank God or Aliens or whoever runs the universe that I never ever again have to haul a horse trailer every time I see one rolling down the road, and remember the shipping boots...  And so on.

But you know, this Del Mar Livestream thing may actually help me stay on the project this time.  Because it so accurately personifies the remainder of my story.  I think up to this point, the story has been - if you don't have much money, how do you get to be a dressage rider?  From here on in, the story changes to - if money is taken out of the equation - who gets to be a dressage rider?  And who has the fortitude to deal with people who are willing to pay to succeed? 

The other thing that may help me to stay on the project is that it has been almost 5 years since Coach Costly died.  So maybe enough time has passed that I can take another shot at the story.

Yes, huge spoiler alert here. One of the reasons I am really struggling to write this next section, and in fact, the whole rest of my story, is that not only was he a coach and a friend - which makes writing a fun and sarcastic blog pretty difficult to begin with - but he also died somewhere along the way, which makes it pretty much impossible.  One of his good friends that I had a run-in with (ha, won't this be a fun post, I told myself..he heee, just wait until I get to THIS!) - well he died too.  No so fun any more, is it, Curmudgeon.

I don't know the details of why / how he died (but I have my strong suspicions, as do all people who knew him even casually), but suffice it to say that any time a healthy person in their 40's passes away, something has gone horribly wrong.  And in his case, I do think trying to work in an industry that expects perfection from the people at the top of the sport, but gives them tools that are horribly inadequate and frustrating and unreasonable with which to do the job is a good recipe for disaster if you are at all inclined to issues with mental health or addiction.

Cringing through that I-2 test, then reading the comments I was reminded of all of this - and how at this point, choosing a side does get pretty difficult.  Should she be showing?  I am sure she is doing her very best, has tried very hard, is crushed and frustrated and humiliated to see this online (wow, so glad I was never live streamed). I actually did not watch the whole test because I felt so badly for her. But - no doubt - she was not ready for the test. So who's fault is it that she was in the ring?  Should her coach be embarrassed?  Is this her first coach?  Or - were there five other coaches she kicked to the curb when they told her not to show?  Has this coach been blowing smoke up her butt and she is stunned to find out she isn't good enough? Or trying to subtly, gently, encourage her to drop down a level without losing a customer and for all we know, her ability to pay her mortgage or something else? And above all - is it any of our effing business?  Is bad riding the very worst thing that can happen to a horse or rider?

Thank goodness no one is trying to make this horse do tempis with a swinging lower leg!

Who knows.  Not me.  But this is the first time in a while I have felt at all inspired to write, so maybe we can keep the momentum going here.

I will ask a favour though - If at any time, anyone feels that I have crossed a line in telling the story of Coach Costly (and I know many readers knew him personally) - please let me know immediately and I will edit the post.  And, if you see a post get edited, please be understanding.  I am not trying to sugar-coat or hide anything, but only to show respect to Coach C.

Wish me luck...