<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><font size="-1">quote:</font><HR>For just a couple of years there was a show right outside La Guardia Airport. A few of the folks from the barn entered in some classes. I rode a tall, gangly, blue eyed, skewbald mare in some hunter classes (chosen because at 3'6' they were the lowest offered) [ I may be wrong about them being the lowest offered but a lot of years have gone by - and it sounds good]. Neal Shapiro was in the same class. Mind you, I sure was not â€œcompetingâ€ with him but we were in the same class. About the best I can say about it is that I didnâ€™t fall off. <HR></BLOCKQUOTE>
Wow, Dom/Centerline, thatâ€™s just too much of a coincidence to ignore! When I was a city-bound, horse-crazy kid (about your ageâ€¦), I lived a few blocks from where that Kiwanis Club-sponsored horse show was held in Jackson Heights. For the too few years that it ran, every summer Iâ€™d look forward to it with a mixture of anticipation and remorse, the remorse because it was held right before Labor Day, so back-to-school was just around the corner.
The walk to the show grounds went over the Grand Central Parkway, past LaGuardiaâ€™s Marine Air Terminal and out on to a landfill area that was within view of Rikers Island. In that very urban setting, I learned what roll-tops and coops looked like.
I remember watching Neal Shapiro ride. And Bernie Traurig, too.
I took my first horse-show photos there. Wish I still had them. Who knows, some of them may have been of you.
Snowbird, did you give your kids cod liver oil, too? It was a FAVORITE of my mother's. Ugh!! Awful stuff -- and I'm not sure what it was for. [img]/infopop/emoticons/icon_confused.gif[/img] When we got something really serious like measles or chicken pox, the health officer came to our house and tacked a big "Quarantine" sign on the front door.
I remember that spoonful of cold liver oil every morning before walking off to school, nearly two miles each way. Didn't hurt a thing, rain (in BC lots!!), snow and sunny days!! Guess that ghasty tasting stuff kept us healthy!! [img]/infopop/emoticons/icon_biggrin.gif[/img] [img]/infopop/emoticons/icon_biggrin.gif[/img]
http://www.talloaksfarm.net ---"Success is not final, failure is not fatal; it is the courage to continue that counts." --- Winston Churchill
I am mostly a lurker, but have to add myself to this group---I am 52 (since just day before yesterday). I remember riding our horses up Hwy. 280 in Los Altos Hills before it was completed. I also remember the poufy breeches and black coats. Last year I attended a clinic at a facility that I had not been too since it had originally been built. It was soooo beautiful and fancy when I first saw it many years ago--- and now, although really well-kept, it is so old and not fancy anymore at all.
I am so glad for this topic and all the rest of you. Sometimes it gets kind of lonely---in my barn now there is one woman who is 40, and then the next youngest is 23! I am older than the parents of most of the kids that I ride with.
I wanted soooo bad to get down there and shake his hand. But that uncle who could get us in for free even got us seats in the press box which was wonduful for watching all the action but there was no way I could get out of it and get down there.
A Splash of Color
[The walk to the show grounds went over the Grand Central Parkway, past LaGuardiaâ€™s Marine Air Terminal and out on to a landfill area that was within view of Rikers Island. In that very urban setting, I learned what roll-tops and coops looked like.]
Land fill, is that was that was? I thought they collected a bizzilion truck loads of used coffee grinds and spread it out and called it footing. Well I guess it was better than asphalt.
I was a bit of a spectacle. [img]/infopop/emoticons/icon_cool.gif[/img]
I was wearing used brown field boots and poofy wool breeches that I had worked very hard to buy. Didnâ€™t have a jacket so I wore a sweater over a white shirt with > get this< a black cowboy doggin tie ( I thought it looked enough like a choker that I could get away with it ) and,
-helmet advocates cut me some slack- a borrowed hunt cap that was way too big. I believe the rules at the time were that you only had to enter the ring with it on so I but up with it falling over my eyes in the first class but shook it off during the circle in the second ( Iâ€™ m surprised they let me in for the second class but I think I was providing some humor). [img]/infopop/emoticons/icon_razz.gif[/img]
So A Splash of Color, if you do have any pictures of a skinny 14 yr old in a crazy show outfit riding a very ugly
( but I loffed, loffed her very much and gave her lots of karoton ) borrowed brown and white mare - well maybe you better burn them. [img]/infopop/emoticons/icon_wink.gif[/img]
I am so enjoying these stories. At my barn there is a lady of 72 actively riding.
JReed - thank you so much for asking. I bought Country Girl/Jessica in 1975 from a pro, I paid $2500, took her home, took group lessons from the up/down instructor at the farm. I can't ever remember jumping courses in those lessons. Would go to local shows with just a friend, didn't know about coaching at shows. I decided I should go to A shows in the area. Yup, on my own, entering the 2nd Yr Green (3'9") and Amateur Owner (3'6") and would win ribbons. About 1/2 way through the season I hooked up with a real coach. She was a lovely bold mare who didn't know how to stop, even with a totally inexperienced, naive me on her back. If I knew then what I know now, I would have never had sold her the year after.
Back to nostalgia. Anyone remember the Rifleman. The son was Johnny Crawford. I begged my Mother to take me to a rodeo at Maple Leaf Gardens in Toronto where he was making a celebrity appearance. She did, the rodeo was wonderful, but they couldn't get the dirt off the ice and it ruined the NHL hockey game the next night. Imagine the NHL players skating around large dirt patches in the course of play. Oh yes, that was before the league expanded.
I still have up in the attic somewhere my tweed brown jacket the puffy motocycle britches and my black pirate boots with the wide tops. I remember when they were new and I was so proud and thought I looked terrific.
Actually the last time I saw Jackie O at the Gill/St.Barnard Show she was wearing a black jacket but still those same old puffy britches in bright yellow. It didn't matter she was out of fashion because she had the most gorgeous FBI guy with her as her "body guard".
By the way the cod liver oil was sort of like having
the oil in your car changed. We figured it cleaned all your pipes. No clogs if you know what I mean! No we didn't do it with a spoon but with nice capsuls
Youth is much overated and a marketing ploy to keep us suppoting the economy. In truth the best years are after 50. You're old enough to know what you want and usually stab;e enough to be able to have it.
Kids have gone off into their own lives and you're healthy enough and strong to enjoy all those things you put on the back burner.
The age of 47 may really have possibilities [img]/infopop/emoticons/icon_biggrin.gif[/img] ! to my children's consternation, I celebrated MY WAY, not THEIR way or any other way.
I slept late until almost 8am. Cared for the animals and let the scholars make their own breakfast. Read the papers. Was pleased to notice the scholars honored my wishes and there were no birthday cards, or birthday cake (hit me with those carbs and I fall asleep at the drop of a hat). The best present they gave me was being uncharacteristically soliticious of each other <and> me, all day long and cheerfully did their chores. We had some of their friends over in the afternoon who are delightful young people themselves and I treated them to Pizza. they did the evening chores for me while I enjoyed a "chick flic" [img]/infopop/emoticons/icon_razz.gif[/img] and then did their homework, showered and kissed me goodnight. A thoroughly lovely day! Maybe next year I will be in the mood to cut a caper or dance naked in the street, or have a dancing bear, but today suited me to a "T". Hurrah 47!
\"The world\'s greatest achievements often happen on the edge of chaos\"