So I ran into an old friend of mine in Kentucky. Actually he’s a friend and long time supporter. My friend Michael Blowen used to write for the Boston Globe and during my Boston years he actually gave me quite a bit of ink. And for people born after 1988, no he did not do tattoos for me. He wrote several articles about me, helping both my confidence and my status on the Boston scene.
Turns out he’s in Lexington, Kentucky now. From Bean town to Blue Grass..quite a leap indeed. But far bigger than his leap in distance or even culture for that matter is the career leap he made. My friend Michael and his wife now own a horse stable/retirement home. He actually gives former races horses a place to live out their days instead of being prematurely sent to the glue factory. This sounds like the synopsis of a movie or the theme song to a sitcom.
Listen to the Story of a man from the city
traded in his keyboard for a job that’s gritty
used to type away, now he bales hay
And spends all his days with the horses that he saves
(I’m not sure what sitcom melody my diddy goes along with…kinda Beverly Hillbillies but not really…exactly)
The crazy thing is that race horses, even famous ones, are eighty-sixed after their racing/stud days are over. Who knew? They made people millions but aren’t even allowed to live out their lives? I mean we do kill cattle but that seems to be the deal from jump. And even that is pretty harsh when you think about it or when you drive by a slaughter house reeking of death and pooh. Admittedly it’s a tad more tolerable when you’re slamming down a sirloin tip with A1 sauce.
My friend is not only doing heroic work he’s also a shining example of how one life can have many chapters. The city boy is now a country boy. Maybe after this he’ll open a delicatessen or design parade floats. It’s an inspiration to see one of my favorite quotes actually being played out in real life…
It’s never too late to be what you could have been.