Sunday, November 9, 2008

All's fair...

Friday night the drivers at South Gate found ourselves bobbing in a sea of signs and slogans. For those of you who have no clue what I’m talking about:

“Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.”*

People against Proposition 8 protested around a LDS (Latter Day Saints AKA Mormons) temple in California on Thursday and decided to do it again in Salt Lake on Friday. 3000 of them.

I work in Salt Lake, right in front of the temple, matter of fact. Well, maybe not in front, more like the southwest corner, but about half a block way.

Anyhoo—

Now, I’m all for equality. I even held up a sign stating as much last night to the passing throng. But while the “Oh yeah I love you AND your horse” is appreciated we also got a lot of “That’s wrong and abusive” about being a carriage driver. But how equal is it if I support you and your quest to be allowed to live your life in the manner you want to without criticism and reproach and you will not afford the same consideration to me? I don’t walk into your house, point my fingers and say "Shame on you for doing something that's not hurting anyone else, but because some people don't understand that they insist on creating an atmosphere of hate and conflict."

I wouldn't exactly call that equality.

So, let's try and get the problems directed at humans ironed out in the world first; and once we've wiped out prejudice against race, sex, lifestyle, religious choice, socio-economic status, eye color, height, Plain or Peanut M&M's and Coke VS Pepsi, then we can start a dialogue about the life of the working domesticated animal.

Which, by the way, is not as bad as the Anti-Equestrienne-Eco-Terrorists like to make it out to be.

*From The Princess Bride by William Goldman

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Ugh...wow. Not surprising at all though. No one can just mind their own business or worry about themselves.

Anyway, YOU'VE BEEN TOASTED! Go check my blog!

Anonymous said...

I don't understand some people. Aren't horses allowed to have a purpose in life? Aren't they allowed to have a job to justify their existence? Just yesterday as I was tacking up Belle, someone asked me if I actually ride her. I felt like saying, "Nope, I just like to see how she looks in a saddle... here's your sign!" We then proceeded to have a great trail ride in which she thoroughly enjoyed. Belle loves to have a job. She wants to go on trail rides. She gets cranky when its so cold and the wind is blowing so hard that I refuse to risk one of my kids getting frostbite just to take her and the paint out on the trail. She still gets out into one of the arenas, but it is not the same. If I had a harness, I bet that she would be even worse. She would be yelling at me that the kids could bundle up under blankets and hide out in the carriage and hitch that paint up, Belle can teach her how to really work. (when you have known a horse for going on eleven years, you absolutely know what they are saying expecially when they are yelling).
Holy cow this is long! I need to start my own blog, but it is so fun to just rant on yours!

Anonymous said...

Out in the country we get a lot of stray dogs. Dogs that strayed after they were pushed out of some city-dweller's sedan. Dogs form packs and get into trouble. Mom said, "They cause trouble because they don't have any chores to do." We all laughed and rolled our eyes.

Turns out, she was right. Sigh.

Have you ever thought of chewing tabacky? Makes a right nice spit, you know, for when somebody annoys you. Or, I know! Meat! Spit meat at the eco-terrorists! Red meat.

fleebag

Lisa Deon said...

No chewing tabacky, but have you ever seen those things they make for throwing a tennis ball to a dog? They look like an ice cream scoop with a really looooong handle. I have thought about buying one and keeping it on the carriage...I don't have ice cream or tennis balls, but I do have an unending supply of...processed hay, we'll call it. It would fit very nicely in the scoop, and the projectile range would be fabulous.

But then I would be reduced to the same level as the Anti-Equestrienne-Eco-Terrorists, with their candy, change and ranch dressing throwing, and I'll never sink that low.