To quote an esteemed colleague: “If I see a four-legged animal while on vacation, it better be a dog.” No guff.
Such was my thinking during a very, very lazy vacation last week. I was 1300 miles from home and 1000 miles away from the closest harness track. Perfect bliss. To live and breathe this glorious sport is a privilege, but man-oh-man, sometimes you just have to get away.
The week came and went, and as I sat aboard flight 5698, waiting for take-off, I was completely chilled-out. Four days without horse pictures and horse words. Lots of sloth, but no horse.
My seat on a plane is always next to the smelliest, drunkest, loudest, sickest, chattiest, most obnoxious passenger on board. So imagine my delight when a polite, nicely groomed and well-spoken fella slid into the seat next to me. And with a hot accent to boot. Finally – some flight karma!
Small talk ensued and it soon became apparent that something freaky was at play. This guy looks so familiar. I could see his wheels turning too. I’m a thousand miles from home — *what are the odds?
I’ll spare you the arduous back-and-forth conversation that led to our revelation, but in the end, the passenger beside me in 21F was driver Mike Langdon! I’ve taken his photo a zillion times in the winner’s circle and said several hellos in passing. But, like so many of us that cross paths on a regular basis, I never really spoke with him before.
Evidence that this is indeed a small world, and a small industry too. So small, in fact, that I think we often consider ourselves as knowing of one another without any real basis. Those assumptions can be dangerous — the innocent beginnings of darker things, like gossip, rumours and lies. That was my conclusion as our plane touched down in Toronto.
Three hours in aviation confinement is a substantial opportunity for conversation. And while we discussed the finer points of gremlins, sushi and wine-induced-barfing, the talk eventually turned back to racing.
Surprisingly, the topic I had fled the country to leave behind was once again easy and interesting to discuss. I found that comforting. I also found Mike Langdon to be a funny and personable guy, although I felt like a dufus that I had to travel 1000 miles to find out.
K
*BTW, the odds of dying in a plane crash are about 1 in 11 million. I’m no statician, but I’d say the odds of bumping into Mike Langdon on a plane are about the same. (No offence, Mike!)
Try this. My wife had the
Try this. My wife had the same idea as you, wanted a vacation with lots of history no horses. we flew into Dublin and after a couple of days of museums and stuff drove to Cork. First stop sign entering the city we had to pause while a guy jogged a trotter through the sign on a cobbled street. Look on her face - priceless!
Innocent beginnings of
Innocent beginnings of darker things like gossip, rumours and lies are usually generated from sort of fact. I am no statistician either, but I think I saw somewhere 1 out of 3 times.