Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Ways I Am Not Like Ann Romney

When I wrote last week about acid-washing my horse trailer, a long-time friend commented that I did not sound much like Ann Romney.  Honestly, I never thought I had.

Ann Romney likes horses, so I'm told.  I assume she rides them.  She owned part of a horse named Rafalca that competed in the London Olympics, and I believe she also attended the London Olympics, as did I.  We are both women.  Both white.  But that's pretty much it.  Our paths never crossed at the Games, for one very important reason.  I am an eventer.  She does dressage.

When I tell you that eventing is a three-phase competition comprising dressage, cross-country jumping, and show jumping, it sounds like I have at least one more thing in common with Ann.  No.  Not really.  Top-level eventers will concede that dressage training improves their horses' abilities to jump, but mostly we all just get through it.  We call it "playing in the sandbox."  Or "dressidge," said with a fake snooty accent. 

My trainer Betty once sent me a Facebook post showing two portapotties.  The one on the left was a standard portapotty.  The one on the right was a deluxe, oversized portapotty with an added hand-washing station off to one side.  "Event on left," Betty wrote.  "Dressage show on right."

A food vendor sold me my standard bacon-on-white-bread sandwich early one cross-country morning with the comment, "We love eventers.  You people eat."  He added that the week before they'd worked a dressage show.  "We had to make them gazpacho."

There you have it.  Kim Bradley=sizzling hot bacon.  Ann Romney=cold tomato soup.