HORSES, MOTORCYCLES and CELL PHONES

I just got back from the eye ball doctor. I had lost my glasses and needed a new prescription. Well, they weren’t working so well anymore anyway. It turns out my right eye has deteriorated badly, which I knew because the glasses were no longer doing the trick. The eyeball doctor said, or so I thought she said, that I had “masculine deterioration”, which you can confirm by how I just spelled that word. For a few moments I thought it was just another of life's unfair deals like why should I go blind in one eye simply because I was a masculine?

Well, it turns out she said “macular deterioration” and not “masculine” and it had nothing to do with being a guy. She asked if I’d ever been a sun gazer or a welder as I had a scar in my eye right in the dead center, and the scar had grown. I said no because it was the correct answer. My left eye is perfect…like I’m 16 years old in the left eye….Who was that Hispanic girlfriend of ex-NFL player Andre "the Jerk" Rison who tried to shoot him and because there’s no justice, she missed. He was an ass. His right eye is probably OK. Her name was something left-eye Lopez. That’s me now…Ralph “Left-Eye” Toynbee. Where’s the money?

So, they took pictures of the inside of my eyes which means they dilate them and then put a big light in there and photograph them. It’s like looking into the sun or welding. Then you go outside where the sun is so damned bright you can see NOTHING and you proceed to drive home. That’s when I saw the craziest thing ever.

At a busy intersection, a guy in front of me is making a left turn. He can barely control his vehicle. It’s 10 in the morning and I figure he’s about to smack right into a sign when he gets the damned vehicle back under control. Of course, he’s talking on a cell phone with the other hand. Now, here’s the clincher……..THE IMBECILE IS ON A MOTORCYCLE!!! Of course, he also had no helmet because in Kansas you do not need a helmet. Kansas is the place where the legislature also says there has been no evolution. In Kansas, they are right. This guy sure hasn’t evolved. In fact, why would he need a helmet? His head already doesn’t work. I haven’t driven a motorcycle for a long time. But, the little I remember about it was that two hands really helped a lot….especially because as the driver, you already have your crotch wrapped around a 50+ horsepower engine.

I’ve never tried that one before and won’t. The closest I ever came was to ride a horse with no saddle or reigns once up near Tongie. I had a boss who had horses and said to come up to the farm and ride anytime I wanted. So, one day I showed up. I’d ridden them enough to feel OK about it but never bareback and especially without reigns. It isn’t very pleasant because on a hot day, they sweat a bit and you’re slopping around in it. So, Kenny, my boss, says the horse is a good horse but stay close to the neck because if I sit back very far, it tends to buck. Well, my God! What kind of a deal is that?

So, I’m out riding across the pasture and am galloping along really good and when you want to turn left, you just pull the mane real hard to the left and the horse turns OK….I felt just like Tonto now. Then my friend Chas, who’s nuts, and has his own horse thought it would be great fun to stick his horses nose half way up the ass end of my horse….which he did! My horse bolts like a bat out of hell and there I go flapping in the breeze like I’m hanging onto a run away lawn tractor or something. (A different story altogether).

Naturally, I have no control over where and when I’ll go up and down on the horse which by now seems about five times bigger than it did when I got on it. Furthermore, had the terror gone on much longer, I’d have been singing soprano in the “They Used to be All Boys” choir, if you catch my drift!

At this point, I’m frightened to death and exhausted. The damned horse runs as fast as a car and I’ve rolled all the way underneath his neck and am just hanging onto its upper neck with my arms and have my legs wrapped around its lower neck. I’m contemplating dropping on off but it’s still moving pretty fast and I figure it will just stomp me now. (At least I’m not singing soprano any more). Then, just as I’m ready to give up, it charges to a fence, stops on a dime, hurling me into the fence.

I never did get back on the horse. (I’ve never gotten back on ANY horse). I just walked back to the farmhouse, told Kenney where I thought he’d find his horse and waited for Chas whose future was going to involve taking a real beating from a much smaller guy than he. When he rode up, still on his horse, he was just amazed. He said it was the greatest exhibition of horsemanship he’d ever seen and could not believe I stayed on it in all those positions. He said when I went around the horse’s neck, I looked just like Tonto. TONTO, MY ASS!
I was scared to death.

Anyway, I’ve got a real respect for anything I wrap my legs around that’s stronger than me and no way do I ride a motorcycle and talk on a cell phone at the same time.


RALPH