In 1962, I was in the second grade. My scrapbook consisted mainly of pictures of horses I’d cut out of the newspaper. If I were lucky, the images were in color. Most of the time, they were not.
As an eight year old, I vowed that someday I’d see the Lippizaners in person. And last year, just 50 years later, I did get to see those magnificent horses, right in their home paddock in Vienna, Austria.
I also vowed that someday I’d go to the Kentucky Derby. That day has not yet come. “Maybe next year” has been my standard cry each May. So today I’ll be watching the race, like I have every year, on my television set. I’ll cheer the horses on from the seat of my recumbent bike, placed strategically in from of the big screen TV in my rec room.
Oh, I know it’s not quite the same. My rec room doesn’t even smell like horses. But if I don a big, floppy hat and drink mint iced tea, I’ll be one step closer to experiencing the real thing.
And who knows? Maybe next year, I really will be there in person.