As a public service to any of my readers who graduated from high school more than 30 years ago, I offer the following tale.
I just returned from a long week-end at a friends’ Texas quail ranch for a planned reunion with six other friends from high school days. Unfortunately, none of them could make it. Instead, six slow-moving, arthritic-ridden, grey-haired impostors showed up. While several of them looked vaguely familiar and, having been well coached, were able to talk the talk, they had a problem with the walk the walk part. Same with the shoot the shoot or ride the ride part.
Now, if you find yourself, as I did, in a similar situation….feeling smug about how much younger and fit you are than your contemporaries…do yourself a favor…go horse back riding and get back to reality. Of course it sounds like fun. Of course John Wayne looked great in the saddle. Of course I wanted to ride the range. So, my host generously provided not only a horse of my choice, but two of his best ranch hands to accompany me.
Let me cut to the chase…I mounted the horse feeling like a 40-year-old at the top of his game and dismounted an hour later a broken 80-year-old. (Of course, I’m exaggerating for comic effect. I actually only felt like
75.) Later in thanking my host, I asked how much the ranch hands were paid, and he said very little. The value of watching guys like me on a horse was priceless entertainment. Glad I could help, Al.
Actually, it was great fun and I hope to go again next year. That’s assuming, of course, that the staff still has a sense of humor and all the doors are enlarged for my wheel chair.