Ronald Reagan, Jr.

-Some political families, like say the Kennedys, have a long-established social history of prestige, handed down from generation to generation… I guess not all former first families can be as fortunate…

-It’s late at night… Insomnia as usual… I’m flipping channels trying to find the most boring show that isn’t an infomercial, and praying it will put me to sleep… Then what do I stumble upon? Animal Planet’s “Dog Show.” You guessed it. It was a televised pooch parade. I’m a bit of a dog dork myself (I have a Great Dane now, and I grew up with Boxers), so I stopped flipping for a bit.

-The first thing I was thinking was, “Wow. Those toy breeds are really pointless… Why don’t you just buy a pet rat?” The second thing I thought was, “Wait… That correspondant on the floor of the ring looks kinda familiar.” It was a very vague familiarity, not like the “I-think-that-guy-used-to-babysit-me” type of recognition… I just felt like I’d seen him in the news somewhere before.

-Then it all congealed in my head… The dude spitting stats about Shihtzus was RONALD REAGAN, JR!!! Son of Mr. Trickle-Down Economics himself… Just then, the main host of the program took over again and confirmed it all with a “thanks Ron.”

-All I can say is wow… I guess his “pedigree” didn’t pay off in the most glamourous of ways… Not that I’m knocking the guy… After all, *I* was watching! But if you look at the comparisons… Well… I guess they all either died young or ended up in rehab centers named after their mothers…

-So hey… Kudos to Ronald Reagan, Jr. for sticking with an honest living “below the radar.” Even if he does have to watch where he steps at work!

Love and pooper scoopers,
=j.lynn

I Rode A Horse!

-Lemme just say that I grew up in the suburbs. To a certain painful extreme. Once I hit college, I gratefully traded suburban life for city life, without the slightest glance back at tract home sprawl. Yesterday, my roots were made apparent when I traded my Diesel Jeans for Wranglers, and saddled up for a ride in Topanga Canyon…

-That’s right… I went for a little horsie ride with my girl. Except that the horses were huge. And I’d never ridden a horse before, so even if it was a “little” ride, it was quite the event for me. Seriously, this city kid has never been so sore! “Saddle Sore” they say… Yup. It hit me like a freight train today.

-My horse was named “Crescent,” he was BIG, and he was cool as hell. I’m used to people calling my Great Dane a horse (she’s HUGE for a dog), but I’m now convinced that the people who say things like this have never stood next to a REAL horse, let alone swung their leg over one. Anyway, I just love the concept of getting on TOP of a huge animal, and having it take you places. Motorcycles are great fun and everything, but they only respond when you twist the throttle. Horses go when you TALK to them, or make certain noises, or nudge them a certain way. It’s bad ass. Such a unique feeling.

-We spent about an hour and a half on a trail in the canyon with our Texan guide, Amanda. It was an awesome view down the mountains all the way to the ocean and Malibu. Since I was a newbie, we weren’t allowed to run the horses very much, but I did get a couple solid “canter” sessions in. I wanted to keep going faster and get the hang of it, but alas it was a very hot day, and some parts of the trail were pretty steep. So I guess I’ll have to wait until next time to really try my Seabiscuit Jockey stylings… It’s probably for the best, anyway… I can’t imagine how sore I would be if I’d gotten my way…

Love and saddlebags,
=j.lynn