No cowboy shot more Indians than John Wayne.

John Wayne made a great WWII movie hero. Thing is, he never served in the military, because they would not make him an officer.

He wanted to serve in the military only if they made him an officer?

I like the music.

So I have read.

I didn't know that about John Wayne. Interesting.

Feed the horses if you want.

I know. On the other hand, one of the British actors - David Niven or one similar chucked the movie industry, took up his reserve officer rank and became a leader of a commando group.

In that war, sacrifice was the norm. I have wondered what my attitude would have been, had I been a young man of the time.

This one makes me tear.
I'm mixed on horse racing, the breeding of thoroughbreds, the early racing, but I have liked the joy.

Secretariat at Belmont, 1973 -

Wonderful.

In the US, reportedly, there are 28 race horse deaths A WEEK. Apparenty "doping" horses to dull any pain they may have from sprains or small fractures is quite common among owners and staffers. Becuse the purses at "Track/RAcinos" have been jacked up in order to rekindle the dwindling interest in racing, the horses expose themselves to life threatening injuries by racing while "doped".
I did work for several training farms in Ireland and was amazed at how the colts were brought up to build "bone" in their legs yet they still appeared as vulnerable leggy juveniles when they started real running.
Imagine running on all fours with all your weight on the middle finger (only) of your "front legs" I live about 30 miles from the farm where "Barbaro" was training and then recuperating (and dying). The race industry is still as heartless as ever.

I respect my AMish neighbors who care better for their drayage horses and mules than many racing animals

And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder: One of the four beasts saying: "Come and see." And I saw. And behold, a white horse.
There's a man goin' 'round takin' names. An' he decides who to free and who to blame. Everybody won't be treated all the same. There'll be a golden ladder reaching down. When the man comes around.

The hairs on your arm will stand up. At the terror in each sip and in each sup. For you partake of that last offered cup, Or disappear into the potter's ground. When the man comes around.

Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers. One hundred million angels singin'. Multitudes are marching to the big kettle drum. Voices callin', voices cryin'. Some are born an' some are dyin'. It's Alpha's and Omega's Kingdom come.

And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree. The virgins are all trimming their wicks. The whirlwind is in the thorn tree. It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks.

Till Armageddon, no Shalam, no Shalom. Then the father hen will call his chickens home. The wise men will bow down before the throne. And at his feet they'll cast their golden crown. When the man comes around.

Whoever is unjust, let him be unjust still. Whoever is righteous, let him be righteous still. Whoever is filthy, let him be filthy still. Listen to the words long written down, When the man comes around.

Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers. One hundred million angels singin'. Multitudes are marchin' to the big kettle drum. Voices callin', voices cryin'. Some are born an' some are dyin'. It's Alpha's and Omega's Kingdom come.

And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree. The virgins are all trimming their wicks. The whirlwind is in the thorn tree. It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks.

In measured hundredweight and penny pound. When the man comes around.

And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts, And I looked and behold: a pale horse. And his name, that sat on him, was Death. And Hell followed with him.

I agree, which is why I said 'mixed'. At the least I think they run too much too early and that's not even considering the breeding arguments. A race track I liked that now makes me sick in memory is Santa Anita - it is across the street from the LA Arboretum, a haunt of mine/ours. Sometimes we went to both. I rarely made even a small bet, but liked seeing horses run.

I was primed as a kid going over to a neighbor's house. The parents were watching the K. Derby, which I knew nothing about. There was the parade to the post. I picked a horse for the name, Swaps. He won. I was twelve. I started reading the sports pages.



Remember Piffka? She had quite a horse, bulky guy. Wonder if there are any photos left on a2k.

I have not supported horse races since a few years back, when carnage on the track caught my attention.