APRIL
2004 ARABIAN HORSE ISSUE
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APRIL
2004 ARABIAN HORSE ISSUE |
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CONTENTS The
Business of Horses, Are you a Business?
- M.R. Bain
 Riders Saddle Up to Benefit the Maintenance of Multi-Use Trails
UPCOMING
ISSUES |
BY BAXTER BLACK It is human nature to try and justify or lessen our own stupidity or bad habits. “I admit
I ate every bit of little Tammy’s birthday cake before the party...but
I didn’t leave a mess.”
“Okay, Okay, I smoked marijuana...but I didn’t inhale.” “How would
you expect me to know I was speeding...I was talking on the phone!”
Bill sent me an ad from a national magazine that promoted American Spirit. It is a new brand of cigarettes whose selling point is: “100% additive-free natural tobacco certified under USDA standards - 100% U.S. grown tobacco!” ‘My gosh,’
I thought, ‘this is a great advertising gimmick!’ After all, the
self-esteem of smokers has been on the decline for years. They’ve been
forced to sneak puffs out by the dumpster on cold windy days. They’re
haughtily condemned by the healthy self-righteous, pointed out as self-flagellating
ash-mouthed outcasts. They are robbed at tax-point by state and federal lawmakers
with the same disdain of those people that pull the wings off flies or tie cans
to a cockroach’s tail. They have assumed the position of social loser,
somewhere between homeless addict and third party candidate.
However, this new marketing ploy could be used to score points in the game of politically correct one-upmanship. Imagine two smoking exiles lighting up on the dock behind the No Child Left Behind/ Save the Whales/ Recycle Tin Foil/ Keep our Pockets Green - climatically controlled concrete and glass headquarters. “I used to smoke Camels,” you say. “But then I read about the chemicals they used, the immigrant labor involved, and the paper from old redwood forests, so I went looking for a more environmentally friendly cigarette. One that is 100% certified organic and comes in a bio-degradable pack. I think of it as my contribution to a cleaner world.” Your fellow puffer looks at you, like she just saw a man hit himself on the head with a rubber hubcap hammer. “You got a screw loose,” she says, “How’s it taste?” “Like smoking a rope,” you reply, “But it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” Like two condemned prisoners at the bottom of the pecking order bragging on who has the best handcuffs, she considers your oral arguments, never asking if the organicity makes it less harmful. “On second thought,” she says, “maybe I’ll try it. It would look good on my resume alongside ‘buys only Miracle Whip salad dressing and Free Range Galapagos turtle soup.’” |
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