His name was Ove Lind, and he was a farrier (somebody who works on horses' hooves, clipping them and making sure they're healthy). He's attracted the attention of a well-to-do horsewoman in the area named Melissa who is busily showing him around. He lives out of a van somewhere in Nevada and gives talks on his revolutionary new method of hoof care and feeding. These techniques are supposedly guaranteed to extend the life of the hoof (and thereby the horse).
Our neighbor, Sharon, was supposed to host one of his talks at her house, but it seems that her domicile is ill-suited to large groups and prohibitively hard to reach. Our house being lower down on the slopes of the San Gabriel Mountains, easier to find, and larger, Sharon convinced Mom to host the event. In return, Mom and Dad didn't have to pay the $150 admission fee.
All the previous week Mom and Sharon were out at Smart & Final buying up the necessary supplies: buns, lunch meat, mixed vegetables, fruit salad, potato salad, tortilla chips, plastic forks, paper plates, and all that lot. They moved all the furniture out of the family room and into the living room (where the computer is) and unfolded all of the tables and chairs Sharon rented. Then, all Saturday and all Sunday, 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. (and even after), Ove stood in the front room with a projector and some hoof bones and talked. And talked. And talked.
A refreshingly different and charming accent he may have had, but even that got to be wearing after the first six hours; especially all the endless jive about coffin-bones and foundering and ionized silver. Honestly, the man didn't know when to quit. There were occasional breaks for snacks and lunch, which was the only time I budged from my room and greeted the half-dozen or so Apple Valley horsewomen who'd come to our house to hear Mr. Lind speak. The rest of the time I stayed in my hidey-hole and read comic books, or wrote, or fooled around on my computer, or blogged. It was nice having all that time to myself, but it became hideously boring all too soon.
On a lighter note, the weather's been lovely: for some reason, yesterday, the sun was mild and the breeze almost cool, so that it never strayed much above 90. Then in the evening a truly temperate sea breeze began blowing and the temperature dropped further. It got down to 54 last night, and it didn't get above 80 today. Yippee! Mom and I took a glorious walk in the cool wind with Maggie and Harriet. It was glorious. Feels like fall's already here.
This weekend was also opening weekend for NFL football season. Normally I've had only a passing interest in sports, but I've decided to follow football more closely: particularly my favorite team, the San Diego Chargers. Tonight's game was San Diego vs. Oakland: my most beloved team versus my most hated adversary. The Raiders play so dirty and their fans are so ill-mannered and disreputable that everybody in the western conferences hates them. When I finally got tired and left during the third quarter, the score was tied up 10-10. The Chargers were having a horrendous time on defense, and despite decent showings in offense, including a couple of brilliant catches, the Raiders kept turning over the ball. I'll see what the score is tomorrow morning. It had better be good.
In current events, Saturday was September 11th: the anniversary of the attack on the Twin Towers. Of course there was a humongous memorial celebration in New York, with live music, speeches, and an impressive cluster of spotlights whose combined beams imprinted the ghostly images of the World Trade Center on the damp night sky. There were a few news stories here and there about 9/11-related charities and political rehashes...and of course, the obligatory slew of documentaries. Apart from that, the day was just like any other day.
...except that I got called into work unexpectedly early. Mark, the editorial assistant, phoned me at 9:06 a.m. He asked if I could come in. I said I'd be there at eleven when the Pastor was scheduled to come in and talk to me about his Life Changing Mentor Program. Mark said the sooner I could come in, the better. I put down the phone, sighed, got ready, and left. I arrived at just after ten, and got some obituaries done. Then the Pastor (from Ontario) and his Victorville counterpart sat in Ron's office and gave us the rundown on their program. I scribbled notes like mad, trying to keep up and not look like a fool in front of the editor. I think I managed to be pretty thorough. I paid close attention to the questions that Ron asked the pastors, to try to get an idea of the news values involved in such a situation as this, as well as which story angles Ron places the highest priority on. Afterward, Ron assigned me to write an article detailing what Life Changing Ministries was doing up here in the High Desert (starting up the mentor program), what they needed most right now (volunteers and partner organizations), and any upcoming events (a talk given by the Presiding Judge of the San Bernardino County Juvenile Court, Marsha Slough). I think I did pretty well on it. I'll find out tomorrow.
Wish me luck, William Zinsser.
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