tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53447033664849969322024-02-06T21:11:59.804-05:00Foxhunter's GuideThe lighter side of foxhunting. Humorous observations, short essays, quips, and quotes for your entertainment. Featuring excerpts from "The Foxhunter's Guide to Great Sex," "You Might Be A Foxhunter If...," "A Typology of Foxhunters," and more.J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-5216196574551635602010-10-29T11:51:00.001-04:002010-10-30T09:24:52.791-04:00When Is A Farm Not A Farm?<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span class="sensecontent1"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">Following up on last week’s discussion of Legacy Rape, we now take a closer look at a “farm” development that manages to degrade the word “farm” with a faux bucolic image while also insulting Virginia’s status as the Birthplace of Presidents. (One realtor’s website for this development encourages readers to “Enjoy the privacy of virginia foothills.” That opening line clearly tells you there won’t be much respect for the Old Dominion’s glorious history when they can’t even manage to use an initial cap for the proper name of a US state. Makes you wonder how reliable their contract documents are.)</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg55FRQM7UgHLvE-p2R_QMsMbHAoStkavPwLpA8YNjSOewpZJcKKEPpM05zzm1On1Ja7NKlwkTEnjW1ouAwtnZsSINilTIjG-QwjfPuwToKVwc5vKgVBbdNImRQD2hm1Rvaj9uImNYv4EIu/s1600/250px-John_Tyler,_Jr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg55FRQM7UgHLvE-p2R_QMsMbHAoStkavPwLpA8YNjSOewpZJcKKEPpM05zzm1On1Ja7NKlwkTEnjW1ouAwtnZsSINilTIjG-QwjfPuwToKVwc5vKgVBbdNImRQD2hm1Rvaj9uImNYv4EIu/s200/250px-John_Tyler,_Jr.jpg" width="162" /></a></div><span class="sensecontent1"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">Little River Farms offers houses in their “Executive Collection” named after former Chief Executives. The models are called Harrison, Jefferson, Tyler, Wilson, and Zachary. Maybe it’s mere coincidence that those are the names of five of the eight US presidents born in Virginia. (One can only assume they opted to use Zachary Taylor’s first name to avoid confusion with John Tyler, certainly a better choice than calling one model The Taylor and the other The John.)</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span class="sensecontent1"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">Except for Jefferson and Wilson, this is a less-than-illustrious group of Chief Executives, their Virginia nativity notwithstanding. I’m not sure I’d be comfortable spending a million bucks on a house named for a guy who was so vain, and arguably so stupid, as to insist on delivering his hour long inauguration speech in a cold driving rain and died 30 days later from pneumonia. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje9NaexrR64XTKz67Rb0-36GTZ9_5SChZ7OzQXFJKdaRootX0OpjGiow1_Dxcv4avGxTDxED2rsP5BO0_PSYicICCZh14fmxU2kq3msqLuz-kbTED0ee6WkVswwVLCkMu3P8kAc2Fr8IBT/s1600/Zachary_Taylor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje9NaexrR64XTKz67Rb0-36GTZ9_5SChZ7OzQXFJKdaRootX0OpjGiow1_Dxcv4avGxTDxED2rsP5BO0_PSYicICCZh14fmxU2kq3msqLuz-kbTED0ee6WkVswwVLCkMu3P8kAc2Fr8IBT/s320/Zachary_Taylor.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><span class="sensecontent1"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">Harrison’s successor, John Tyler (pictured above), is one of our least noteworthy presidents. Can you name one thing for which the man is remembered? Go ahead, give it a try. (I’ll hum the <i>Jeopardy</i>™ theme while I wait.) Come on, just one thing. Nope, I didn’t think so.</span></span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5344703366484996932#_ftn1" name="_ftnref" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">[1]</span></span></a><span class="sensecontent1"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";"> Zach Taylor lasted only 16 months in office. A serving of milk and cherries at a July 4<sup>th</sup> celebration resulted in severe gastroenteritis that laid Old Rough and Ready low. Jefferson and Wilson, of course, did the Old Dominion proud. But I have to assume the developer opted for the other three names because Washington, Madison, and Monroe were already taken. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span class="sensecontent1"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">With this as an example, it’s possible to imagine that a hundred and fifty years from now a builder will be marketing space pods with names like The Carter, The Reagan, The Clinton, The Bush (two models to choose from), and The Obama. When those names have all been used, a desperate developer, banking on the public’s lack of historical knowledge, might even offer The Nixon. Or maybe he’ll stick to The Zachary theme and call that one The Dick.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span class="sensecontent1"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">As the builder of Little River Farms chose to befoul the memory of US presidents rather than the image of foxhunting, my only gripe with him is the misleading use of the word “Farms” in the project’s name. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span class="sensecontent1"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">There are no “farms” at Little River Farms. The bugle-toting fox of Fox Gate is a cartoonish sham. There is neither heritage nor hunting at Heritage Hunt. These few examples serve as a stark reminder that progress trumps preservation and that marketers will manipulate any messages they can to sell product.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span class="sensebreak1"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">I will, however, agree to make a personal appearance at the grand opening of the first presidential-themed housing community that includes a model named The Dick. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">© 2010 J. Harris Anderson</div><div><br />
<hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" /><div id="ftn"><div class="MsoFootnoteText" style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5344703366484996932#_ftnref" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference">[1]</span></a> <span class="sensecontent1"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">Unless you’re of a certain age and attended school when American history was still taught, you probably never heard the wonderfully alliterative campaign slogan “Tippecanoe and Tyler Too.” Tyler’s only other claim to so much as a footnote by Doris Kearns Goodwin is that he was the first vice president to assume office on the death of the incumbent (a rain-soaked chap who died of pneumonia). He was also instrumental in the annexation of Texas. It remains to be seen how well that will work out. </span></span></div><div class="MsoFootnoteText"><br />
</div></div></div>J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-37645934402323238712010-10-25T07:04:00.000-04:002010-10-25T07:04:34.033-04:00Legacy Rape<style>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">Don’t it always seem to go,</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">That you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.</span></i></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype"; font-size: small;"> <i>Big Yellow Taxi</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype"; font-size: small;"> Joni Mitchell</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";"> </span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype"; font-size: 18pt;">There Goes the Neighborhood</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">Our old friend Oog, the Cro-Magnon hunter portrayed in the Primal Urges posting, was so successful as a hunter/lover that there were soon lots of little Oogs running around. Oog wasn’t particularly adept at reining in his own primal urges and neither were his progeny. Consequently, living space began to get cramped and, as one candidate running for tribal chief put it, “Rent for cave too damn high!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">So Oog’s nomadic hunting descendants spread out in all directions, searching for woolly mammoths and other tasty animals. Some went west, stopped when they ran into the Atlantic Ocean, and decided to hang out in Europe for a few thousand years until they could figure out how to make a boat big enough to sail to the edge of the world. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">Others headed east, found a narrow strip of land connecting one continent with another, and kept going until they hit the opposite Atlantic coast. Having no desire to see what the edge of the world looked like, they chose to stay where they were, go on living the uncomplicated Stone Age life, and wait for a chance to play a supporting role in <i>Dances With Wolves</i>. They did improve their language skills, at least as names were concerned. Instead of guttural grunts, they came up with colorful monikers like Pisky-hoppi-gonquin-pachee-kota-nole, which means Son of the Forest Who Makes Big Wampum Even Though He Still Hasn’t Discovered the Wheel.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
<span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">Meanwhile, the boat-building project was going pretty well and some enterprising Europeans decided it was time to see what was out there on the ocean’s vast horizon. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikbpRHboX2z98mwQWmeASV3jj_Ypsr9AH3Nu01p635Fuv1cczxa15iApypsV1N5lvxDnp0iQYWTWjQEt1wYTxlw16zTsCQ7EOBtZQF9Y0PsjkIGTZLQGRw5wrayXF1nXiPLkoYBIMbBRnO/s1600/Indians+&+Explorers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikbpRHboX2z98mwQWmeASV3jj_Ypsr9AH3Nu01p635Fuv1cczxa15iApypsV1N5lvxDnp0iQYWTWjQEt1wYTxlw16zTsCQ7EOBtZQF9Y0PsjkIGTZLQGRw5wrayXF1nXiPLkoYBIMbBRnO/s1600/Indians+&+Explorers.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqqPhhJmogbxTBSaeay2eNvX-3YmE43oF7VuqXD86uOTzCJiRXvvzcpzPd17sq0_Fz3CrzbIYDyq2fGDKMNk7Pd_xnCMBn4ccNo4VR9sh97rM6o_av40He2IApN_YNsuPP7x4ceDKcuW9X/s1600/Indians+&+Explorers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqqPhhJmogbxTBSaeay2eNvX-3YmE43oF7VuqXD86uOTzCJiRXvvzcpzPd17sq0_Fz3CrzbIYDyq2fGDKMNk7Pd_xnCMBn4ccNo4VR9sh97rM6o_av40He2IApN_YNsuPP7x4ceDKcuW9X/s1600/Indians+&+Explorers.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI5ee-NhPY4C72ccf2_z3BSEhwr4lQI4ydOoyqtUUN8c2V1iQroVfXLkMZpcPzMSasJuZJTYz4nQCQbCGCKuWCNygKC69FIaydULZXCw5GPK1YnV71MterhcSgoqiGhA2bNeJoyjxvo9aF/s1600/Indians+&+Explorers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI5ee-NhPY4C72ccf2_z3BSEhwr4lQI4ydOoyqtUUN8c2V1iQroVfXLkMZpcPzMSasJuZJTYz4nQCQbCGCKuWCNygKC69FIaydULZXCw5GPK1YnV71MterhcSgoqiGhA2bNeJoyjxvo9aF/s200/Indians+&+Explorers.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">One day Pisky stood along the banks of Ohey-lookee-whatta-lotta-water (Big Pond) and saw the grandest canoe he’d ever seen in his life, loaded with pale-skinned people wearing funny clothes, headed straight for his lovely little piece of shoreline property. “Damn,” he said, “they’re probably going to expect free health care and public education. And I’ll bet they won’t even bother to learn our language.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">Ever since that day the history of North America has been driven by the tension between indigenous peoples and recent arrivals. The only thing that’s changed significantly is the definition of “indigenous.” In Pisky’s day it meant “We’ve been here for thousands of years and who the hell are you to show up and claim the land in the name of some king or queen four thousand miles away?” Then it was “We’ve been here for a couple hundred years, worked hard to drive out Pisky and all his kind, and who the hell are you huddled masses moving in and lowering the property values?” Now it’s “We’ve been here since last spring and are so upset someone’s building a house across the street that will block our view of the golf course.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">Foxhunters like to think of ourselves as indigenous, as if we sprang spontaneously from the ground over which we ride, that we are as much an intrinsic part of the land as are the foxes we chase. We point out that the first known pack of hounds brought to the Colonies to hunt foxes arrived in 1650. George Washington was an avid foxhunter who kept his own kennels and maintained careful breeding records. The lineage of some hounds hunting today can be traced directly to the pack Washington kept at Mount Vernon. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlwZaB4qSBPMPYURfXFcDZKJVkyLmARvrnTt7zkIR6j-H2Egct8ZHmKyih02JtyjTsYdLkgrIN5HXPNfLTmFsjtClVL7gnJTFJ7Y5kIygm1T0i0CJ9lZzSo3_0QMhdcCNN7Lz7Ij_fJCLj/s1600/going-to-cover-man-with-red-jacket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlwZaB4qSBPMPYURfXFcDZKJVkyLmARvrnTt7zkIR6j-H2Egct8ZHmKyih02JtyjTsYdLkgrIN5HXPNfLTmFsjtClVL7gnJTFJ7Y5kIygm1T0i0CJ9lZzSo3_0QMhdcCNN7Lz7Ij_fJCLj/s1600/going-to-cover-man-with-red-jacket.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpfhPiXOVbd7qlbiO1A0L-PfGSHnK9fV0Sa_V4X08o4h7RsgQ5xFrcAHosuGukj4ciuZHKEBwUmxfxP4InglQmj_Iics2vct2ktVKwGW7FaSOQnQnT-KVO6yrM1AwpBF0oPbbGhmul_gt/s1600/going-to-cover-man-with-red-jacket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpfhPiXOVbd7qlbiO1A0L-PfGSHnK9fV0Sa_V4X08o4h7RsgQ5xFrcAHosuGukj4ciuZHKEBwUmxfxP4InglQmj_Iics2vct2ktVKwGW7FaSOQnQnT-KVO6yrM1AwpBF0oPbbGhmul_gt/s200/going-to-cover-man-with-red-jacket.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">If foxhunters themselves are not indigenous, the sport has certainly been a part of North American history for well over three hundred years. Its influence can be seen in many manifestations, such as the lovely prints of elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen mounted on exquisite horses surrounded by handsome hounds that hang on bank office walls. Customers can imagine themselves part of the landed aristocracy just before discovering how much they’re overdrawn. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">These depictions are at worst benign and may serve as positive reminders of the sport’s romantic appeal, even if almost everyone viewing them thinks no one actually does that anymore. Far more insidious is the trend to pave over sections of hunting country, build residential communities or commercial centers, and then use the allure of foxhunting to market these monstrosities. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">A trend I call “legacy rape,” this duplicity has become pervasive as development pushes ever farther out from urban centers, steadily converting the outlying areas from open countryside to suburban sprawl. At the current rate of expansion, by the year 2025 the continental US will be little more than the paved-over parking lots of two million contiguous Wal-Marts. If you live in an area far removed from the creeping edge of this infestation and think you’re safe, think again. Wherever your little piece of pastoral bliss may lie, the bulldozers will reach you soon enough. And whatever element gave your region its distinctive flair, expect that to become the foundation of the developer’s marketing program.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYGawfPE22wI0altPR3P_jsIiM7ozRJmTHBdDUc17QBWREcy7TLuiK5aLQBPt53IbrprBOubaSymLchfeY8AU8yVesME2II8zDvDpFUbNt9WE8g5whA70jB_MFxjFRiHI_Oz7n1h-I8-s/s1600/imtop-over.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYGawfPE22wI0altPR3P_jsIiM7ozRJmTHBdDUc17QBWREcy7TLuiK5aLQBPt53IbrprBOubaSymLchfeY8AU8yVesME2II8zDvDpFUbNt9WE8g5whA70jB_MFxjFRiHI_Oz7n1h-I8-s/s1600/imtop-over.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">In Northern Virginia there is a new adult community (no young families with children allowed) built on land that was once the territory of the local foxhunting club. Named Heritage Hunt, it is a place completely devoid of heritage where no one is allowed to hunt. Furthering the insult, you can sign up for special privileges on the golf course, which makes you a member of the Hunt Club. Perhaps this refers to searching for errant golf balls in the rough. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbXHvBD2Dvh5Qou3gsIn_7Gzog4HWA14M_Ouwyk95iBXl8w2Kt-6DXbrmA2rJZKr13yzdU1XQC3n-8LZBCnw-iovwJxxQspnk-5F2_7AZ4tJC5jk_d3OCQqt4lMvFkSrhZp9UbrevEQdw_/s1600/Foxgate+Logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbXHvBD2Dvh5Qou3gsIn_7Gzog4HWA14M_Ouwyk95iBXl8w2Kt-6DXbrmA2rJZKr13yzdU1XQC3n-8LZBCnw-iovwJxxQspnk-5F2_7AZ4tJC5jk_d3OCQqt4lMvFkSrhZp9UbrevEQdw_/s1600/Foxgate+Logo.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">A few miles away stands a sign announcing the planned creation of something called Fox Gate Town Center. No town named “Fox Gate” exists so just why this imagined locale needs a center is a matter of speculation. The logo consists of a jaunty, anthropomorphized fox clad in hunting attire – scarlet coat, stock tie, boots and breeches – and holding a bugle. I’ve never seen or even heard of any huntsman using a bugle. But this stylistic error is telling in an unintended way: it brings to mind the image of the cavalry charging in, uprooting the current residents, and reshaping the land to suit someone else’s agenda. Only this time the invaders aren’t on horseback; they’re riding steamrollers.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">Spend a few hours driving through Northern Virginia and you’ll spot many more examples of equestrian and countryside themes usurped to sell the very structures that now make the horse-centered life nothing more than a romantic memory. There’s a host of developments with the word “Farm” appended to the name. According to my old Webster’s, a “farm” consists of “a tract of land devoted to agricultural purposes or to the raising of animals, especially domestic livestock.” I don’t think begonias and golden retrievers qualify as “agriculture” and “livestock.” The word “farm” can also be applied to a<span class="sensecontent1"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">n area containing a number of similar structures or objects, such as an oil storage tank farm. So I suppose in that sense referring to a cluster of cookie-cutter homes in the same way one would describe a collection of containers for petrochemicals is fully appropriate.</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span class="sensecontent1"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">This is emblematic of the overall trend to employ words and images that convey a sense of rusticity when the reality is a sanitized landscape from which everything even remotely rustic has been removed.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span class="sensecontent1"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">The following words should be henceforth banned from use in the names of home models, residential communities, golf courses, business centers, or any other development where equestrian activities or agricultural pursuits have been rendered impossible: </span></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><br />
<span class="sensecontent1"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Hunt • Chase • Fox • Farm • Pasture • Meadow • Field • Paddock • Barn • Stable • Ride/Riding • Saddle • Bridle • Canter • Gallop • Estate • Acres</span></i></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span class="sensecontent1"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">Strike them from the marketer’s lexicon, delete them as options for descriptive copy that would paint an enticing but fallacious image of a project’s true personality.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">Also forbidden are images of foxes, real or cartoon-like. No photos or paintings of hunt scenes are allowed. Elements of foxhunting such as a cap, whip, scarlet coat, brown-topped boots, or horn (including erroneous depictions of bugles) are not to appear. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">Legacy rape</span></b><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";"> – defined as promotional messages using images of a foxhunting past rendered obsolete by the very existence of the promoted development – should be made an offense punishable by a stiff fine and lengthy incarceration. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Palatino Linotype";">I’m thinking the fine proceeds should go to a fund for retired foxhounds. And that lengthy incarceration should consist of confinement with a psychopathic bulldozer operator who smells of diesel fuel, constantly makes “Brrrrrrr!” sounds, and wants to see everything in his cell knocked over and flattened, including his legacy rapist cellmate. This would assure, in the words of Gilbert & Sullivan’s Mikado, that the punishment fits the crime. Anybody with me on this?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">© 2010 J. Harris Anderson</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-34937137070423104742010-10-14T10:38:00.000-04:002010-10-14T10:38:10.498-04:00Creature Connection<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">This week we take a look at what makes a man sexy. Fortunately for us foxchasers, it turns out that a key ingredient is the horse. Actually, with the possible exception of spiders and snakes (as per the old Jim Stafford song), the ability to relate to any animal can go a long way to endearing a man to a woman’s heart. Which brings us to Tip #4 from <i>The Foxhunter’s Guide to Great Sex</i>:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 150%;">Tally-Ho Tip #4:</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 150%;">When a man whispers to an animal, a woman listens.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Describing “Buffalo Bill” Cody in <i>The Colonel and Little Missie</i>, Larry McMurtry makes an adept observation: “…it is hard to overestimate how far a man can go in America if he looks good on a horse.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Allow me to tweak that comment just a tad: It is impossible to overestimate how easily a man can get laid if he looks good on a horse.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_Dm3V2Jk7yOIlX6homIc0twuYB3DDMIeiUtZs0m_JglZSmPUm7H8rfZM3VRvVLmKyTAeUFuj4y652wXkFaUDvBU2ApgTrOpQf0VCN2NpHH6z5pQDCdYR56Q2WlA4MOT-bMkCR0D6RVfO/s1600/WW_show_cody_buffalo_bill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_Dm3V2Jk7yOIlX6homIc0twuYB3DDMIeiUtZs0m_JglZSmPUm7H8rfZM3VRvVLmKyTAeUFuj4y652wXkFaUDvBU2ApgTrOpQf0VCN2NpHH6z5pQDCdYR56Q2WlA4MOT-bMkCR0D6RVfO/s200/WW_show_cody_buffalo_bill.jpg" width="168" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">The image of a man on horseback as romantic, sexy, and powerful goes back to the earliest days of recorded history. A knight in shining armor would have been just a klutz in a clanking can without his mighty charger. A man’s status, and thus his appeal to the fairer sex, was greatly enhanced by how many horses he owned (sort of the old-time version of a garage full of Bentleys and Maseratis). When European explorers arrived on the shores of the New World mounted on horses, the local inhabitants, having never seen a horse, thought the combination was one god-like creature. This may have been the first time a woman, eyeing this strangely stimulating sight, used the phrase, “Hung like a horse.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Sheiks on their fleet-footed Arab steeds, legendary warriors like Genghis Khan and Attila the Hun, Alexander the Great and his trusty equine partner Bucephalus — these and thousands more have, over the centuries, made the man on horseback one of the world’s most enduring figures of power, confidence, achievement, and, no matter the era, one downright sexy dude. (Is it merely another etymological coincidence that the second half of “Bucephalus” is just one “l” shy of “phallus”? Was the great Alexander perhaps trying to make up for being not-so-great in one critical respect by implying that <i>he</i> was hung like his horse?)</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHeAQIm5DUrDA3llHWKrCAHNCOgcgBQUPax0KSqDtpvuj8ZmxZsn8z2UNJ_V60Eya1KSgLJRXp8DYPLNIBjx16HbhyphenhyphenxWzd_xSgl3U1hOylO4A-aOEG2ZhtYULDm8K58DnT7xAKzqa8LUq8/s1600/Electric+Horseman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHeAQIm5DUrDA3llHWKrCAHNCOgcgBQUPax0KSqDtpvuj8ZmxZsn8z2UNJ_V60Eya1KSgLJRXp8DYPLNIBjx16HbhyphenhyphenxWzd_xSgl3U1hOylO4A-aOEG2ZhtYULDm8K58DnT7xAKzqa8LUq8/s200/Electric+Horseman.jpg" width="125" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">In American culture, the equation man-plus-horse-equals-sexy is embodied by one iconic figure: The Cowboy. Now, I realize foxhunters may seem a far cry from cowboys. But they share more in common than might be apparent at first glance. Forget the difference between Wrangler jeans and tailored breeches, leather chaps or scarlet coats. What they share is an ability to relate to another sentient creature, to be dominant yet supportive, firm but gentle, to sense the subtlest non-verbal cues and respond in a way that bridges the communication gap. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">And that, pardners, is sexy!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">One of the best selling books of recent years was <i>The Horse Whisperer</i> by Nicholas Evans. It’s sold over 15 million copies since it was published in 1995. An estimated three copies were bought by men. Robert Redford directed and starred in the 1998 movie version. Approximately seven men saw the film without being dragged to the theater by a wife or girlfriend. (Six of them actually bought tickets to <i>Lethal Weapon 4</i> but wandered into the wrong theater at the Multiplex and were too lazy to get up and leave.)</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMa_jKyj3CdC35qqziYkLvAxQDMtOCUpyy2I6P8qoEqWeu0BTwmJGuAEd_91hU6QvNugYzmPLsxTVuyoFweh8CZJkBIkbGZcBFknxnKw0h4HCPW09f76ipzjmsFexj5duMo7dPLYzMEjSn/s1600/tom+booker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMa_jKyj3CdC35qqziYkLvAxQDMtOCUpyy2I6P8qoEqWeu0BTwmJGuAEd_91hU6QvNugYzmPLsxTVuyoFweh8CZJkBIkbGZcBFknxnKw0h4HCPW09f76ipzjmsFexj5duMo7dPLYzMEjSn/s1600/tom+booker.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwXi1bPhq0ZJfyHynQbuWEUE8wPN2M0CNw7gQEq5KmC7jQ4lQwm5MK6-RIc1PLPelGDNHptxBvDDmkjMuQb_mZ4p3PXm5hctCIgwchTbBxo6mnN-qZApNKQUNvcHbRhD61-lrPf7-TW7u/s1600/tom+booker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwXi1bPhq0ZJfyHynQbuWEUE8wPN2M0CNw7gQEq5KmC7jQ4lQwm5MK6-RIc1PLPelGDNHptxBvDDmkjMuQb_mZ4p3PXm5hctCIgwchTbBxo6mnN-qZApNKQUNvcHbRhD61-lrPf7-TW7u/s200/tom+booker.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>What was it about this book and movie that drove women wild? It was the hero’s blend of self-confidence, strength, humility, ruggedness, and, above all, his Creature Connection, his ability to inspire a sense of trust and compliance from one psychologically damaged horse. When Redford, as Tom Booker, whispered to the horse, Kristen Scott Thomas got hot. When he started whispering to her, every woman in the theater got hot. Booker took sexiness to the next level: He became a Woman Whisperer.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">The fictional Tom Booker was cast as a Montana cowboy. But if the story had been set in hunt country, he’d have definitely been a foxhunting man. Foxhunters have developed their Creature Connection in triplicate. Not only can they relate to horses but they also must be able to communicate effectively with a pack of hounds while understanding the natural ways of the fox. Bring all that together into one fellow who can communicate with his horse, loves hounds, and respects wild animals, and your typical foxhunter leaves even the sexiest cowboy in the barnyard dust. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">One of the best ways you can demonstrate that you’re in tune with your primal self is to develop your ability to relate to animals, to be both dominant and nurturing, to connect to another thinking, feeling carbon-based life form as a caring individual without the aid of intricate verbal communication. If you can attune your senses to pick up on the subtlest cues from your partner — a necessary skill for cowpokes and foxchasers — you’ll be one step closer to mastering what horsemen have known throughout the ages: When a man whisperers to an animal, a woman listens.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">© 2010 J. Harris Anderson</div>J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-48323377326781966142010-10-07T10:13:00.001-04:002010-10-07T15:21:43.762-04:00The Thrill of the Chase, Part 1<style>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxV14313ue-xdHJz5izNOw_KW-Hu_9Zbwn0FHn75IQY-Tp6zAI0_jBHujs_PBwsAdhb78ybYZyZcNITo84O89lQQ9uZwNcFF_MFe6DL9W-aEJKL8fiTdpuLM_Qy2RzewNbNVS5DYP4qbfa/s1600/fox-and-the-hound-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxV14313ue-xdHJz5izNOw_KW-Hu_9Zbwn0FHn75IQY-Tp6zAI0_jBHujs_PBwsAdhb78ybYZyZcNITo84O89lQQ9uZwNcFF_MFe6DL9W-aEJKL8fiTdpuLM_Qy2RzewNbNVS5DYP4qbfa/s200/fox-and-the-hound-5.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">This excerpt from <i>The Foxhunter’s Guide to Great Sex</i> requires a note of clarification. I realize that many of you reading this do not chase foxes, some not exclusively and some not at all. The coyote, of course, is now the dominant, and in some areas the only, quarry for many mounted hunters. Then there are the really radical outliers such as Lynn Lloyd’s incredible Red Rock Hounds who not only chase coyotes across those wide-open Nevada spaces but even get on the occasional big cat. At the other end of the spectrum we have the drag packs that chase no live quarry at all. Yet I hear no gripes that these clubs, such as Alexis Macaulay’s Misty Morning Hounds in Florida, are not giving good sport.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">But there’s no denying that the critter most associated with “foxhunting” is – are we ready for the obvious? – the fox. Given that, this posting is unabashedly fox-specific, with attendant apologies to all chasers of coyote, bobcat, wild boars, mountain lions, and sacks of artificial scent.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">So now on to excerpt number three from <i>The Foxhunter’s Guide to Great Sex: The Thrill of the Chase, Part 1.</i></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 150%;">Tally-Ho Tip #3:</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 150%;">Embrace the Chase.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Why chase foxes? Why not groundhogs, gophers, beavers, badgers, wolverines, or wombats? Why foxes? Because foxes are sexy. They’re cute, smart, elusive, and tricky. They’ll tease you and play with you, tempt you to come on to them and then disappear in a flash, only to reappear two fields away, grinning slyly and waiting for you to resume the chase. If the hunters don’t mess things up, the fox will give you a long, thrilling run, with twists and turns, near catches and misses. She’ll keep you alert and focused, caught up in the action, every care of the world dispelled, wrapped up in a single-minded mission to stay with her to the end. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2OMyhcPUg8-4t18-eWy4eqbh3LuozdDuAteZbWOv5X0HXkDosA7erNCR2NR_hN3-Y6E2C703EOEYtjdT4es4NQe_rtV1sDP8dqNTRnXQY-Up2g1nm-1CXR-5OCoxmQKhKy1H0UM3kAoQq/s1600/Foxxy-Lady-Corset-Skirt-and-Tail-FOX-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2OMyhcPUg8-4t18-eWy4eqbh3LuozdDuAteZbWOv5X0HXkDosA7erNCR2NR_hN3-Y6E2C703EOEYtjdT4es4NQe_rtV1sDP8dqNTRnXQY-Up2g1nm-1CXR-5OCoxmQKhKy1H0UM3kAoQq/s1600/Foxxy-Lady-Corset-Skirt-and-Tail-FOX-3.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgags9f2V6YqU-SC4Po7dcYuKR-zOnnwS21kqtLzkB6aXDheSd4V1uOH2cm8e7aXZOrSYXO2vJmXFtNVw43F4U-psvp0AvoDbWLxB5oEcBouykguY4sOJ6q-qnivUy91ruueb-jocRw_ugr/s1600/Foxxy-Lady-Corset-Skirt-and-Tail-FOX-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgags9f2V6YqU-SC4Po7dcYuKR-zOnnwS21kqtLzkB6aXDheSd4V1uOH2cm8e7aXZOrSYXO2vJmXFtNVw43F4U-psvp0AvoDbWLxB5oEcBouykguY4sOJ6q-qnivUy91ruueb-jocRw_ugr/s320/Foxxy-Lady-Corset-Skirt-and-Tail-FOX-3.jpg" width="176" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Jimi Hendrix immortalized the phrase “Foxy Lady.” Tell a woman she’s a vixen and she’ll take it as a compliment. (Try referring to her using certain canine, bovine, or porcine metaphors and the reaction may be less than pleasant.) It’s certainly not a modern invention that “foxy” is a synonym for “sexy.” It’s worth noting that the Latin word for the external female genitalia is “vulva” and the Latin word for fox is “vulpes.” Etymological coincidence? Perhaps. But maybe two thousand years ago the showstopper at Rome’s Coliseum was Jimus Hendricus wailing out his big hit, “Vulpes Femina.” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">The heart of foxhunting, the soul of the sport that makes it so alluring, can be summed up in one phrase: <b><i>The Thrill of the Chase</i></b>. And what is it that makes the chase thrilling? Two things: <b><i>Anticipation and Challenge</i></b>. Will a fox be found? Will she get up and give you a good run? Can you handle the pace? Can you respond to her cues and guess where she’s going? Do you have the stamina to stay with her until she decides it’s over? </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Some folks now use the term “foxchasing” to differentiate themselves from other “hunters” who are out to kill their quarry. It can be argued, though, that those other sportsmen aren’t really “hunters.” <span style="color: black;">If you’re sitting in a tree stand looking for a buck to come within range of your telescopic sight, lured by the salt lick you strategically hung from a branch, so you can nail him with a heart-lung shot from your high powered rifle, you’re not, in the strictest sense of the word, “hunting.” You’re “waiting.” When the moment arrives, it’s over in a split second: BAM! (Sounds like the Gobbler model to me.)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black;">Whether you call it “hunting” or not, chasing foxes is an entirely different sport. On a good day it can go on for several hours, with multiple chases. A</span>nd, ideally, when it’s over everyone — riders, horses, hounds, and foxes — are all still in one piece, maybe a little tired and sore, but ready to rest up and go at it another day.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Is your sex life about chasing groundhogs or chasing foxes? Groundhogs are easy to find, they don’t run very fast or far, they don’t tempt or tease, they don’t show any pleasure in the sport, they just want it over as quickly as possible and then to be left alone. No chase, no thrill. If you want thrill, you need chase. And for that you need to think like a foxchaser, someone who knows how to <b><i>Embrace the Chase</i></b>.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">And no creature is more fun to chase than a fox, whether of the two- or four-legged variety. All foxes are hard-wired for the chase. It comes naturally to them. It’s what makes them so alluringly sexy. It’s the chasers who need to learn the ways of the fox and to then respond in kind. It’s about playing the game according to the fox’s rules because, when you’re talking sexy, foxes rule!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">© 2010 J. Harris Anderson</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-44493735109346175982010-09-30T10:08:00.000-04:002010-09-30T10:08:44.537-04:00The Gourmand Caveman<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">This week’s excerpt from the Foxhunter’s Guide to Great Sex, under the Primal Urges heading, is:</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 150%;">Tally-Ho Tip #2:</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 20pt; line-height: 150%;">Become a Gourmand Caveman.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">You can tell how someone makes love by watching how he eats his food. There are <b>Gobblers</b> and there are <b>Gourmands</b>. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVv1pm1aO8P88c2CDLXy_ELLpA9DU42pnMrSnnWCxzhDXTpb-GiyqiS3JBiP1RLuo55D52Usll8z56tpmPW87iz3cqK7h6TCKRZpRQ0hES8h3ncfrUJyvJzibr_NMVGZE54CWYEpVjeID/s1600/TW1017-Bronto-To-Go.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVv1pm1aO8P88c2CDLXy_ELLpA9DU42pnMrSnnWCxzhDXTpb-GiyqiS3JBiP1RLuo55D52Usll8z56tpmPW87iz3cqK7h6TCKRZpRQ0hES8h3ncfrUJyvJzibr_NMVGZE54CWYEpVjeID/s200/TW1017-Bronto-To-Go.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Cambria;">The Gobbler likes food, likes it very much in fact. But he’s too self-focused and goal-oriented to savor the meal placed before him. He wants to get to the payoff as quickly as possible, that big, satisfying BUUUURRRPPP! When the plate’s empty — which takes all of two minutes — he’s outta there. He knows what he likes and, more importantly, what he doesn’t like. Not that he’s tried very many things in his life. He’s found what works to satisfy his narrow appetite and can’t be bothered to venture out into unknown territory where things might taste bad, even if it means he might also find some new things that taste incredibly great. Nope, stick to the good old meat-and-potatoes, gobble ’em down, get the job done with a minimum of muss-and-fuss, and then move on to something else — like a good nap.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi69ZKZo1KWPxnJlu6uYySzSYIr3SmmeQq8rAEEc138TqC9iMJAeHW2uw6VGRj8JeKxwAVkUkDZxedf1lV-Ye5ULpMz5AD1njPTXeWkivKd9lTCRLVIyn58Xrn2H5HGxkM-VEIATa0wbaCv/s1600/Gourmand+Sec.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi69ZKZo1KWPxnJlu6uYySzSYIr3SmmeQq8rAEEc138TqC9iMJAeHW2uw6VGRj8JeKxwAVkUkDZxedf1lV-Ye5ULpMz5AD1njPTXeWkivKd9lTCRLVIyn58Xrn2H5HGxkM-VEIATa0wbaCv/s200/Gourmand+Sec.jpg" width="134" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">A Gourmand (similar to a gourmet only not so picky) also likes food very much. He likes all kinds of food: Food he knows, food he’s never tried; food that takes hours of preparation, food he can pop right into his mouth; food that looks delicious and food that looks weird. It’s all good. It’s about satisfying his hunger, yes, but it’s much more than that. It’s an adventure. It’s about savoring the experience, taking the time to enjoy each mouthful, to appreciate the whole encounter. When the meal’s over, he wants to talk about what worked, what didn’t, what could have been done differently (a little more flavoring here, a little less spice there), what were the best parts, what he’d like to try again. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">Foxhunting, like great sex, is a Gourmand-style experience. It takes time, focus, and preparation to do it right. Some days the effort pays off, some days it doesn’t. But it’s all good. It’s all an adventure. And when it’s over, the pleasure continues by talking about the experience, the high points and pitfalls, what worked and what didn’t, what you’d like to do differently next time and what’s worth trying again. It never becomes boring, is never something you’d like to get over with quickly. You want it to last a long time whenever you do it and when it’s over your appetite soon starts to build for the next outing.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;">The Gobbler’s still a few notches down on the evolutionary scale. He’s got the “Sex good!” part figured out okay. What the Gobbler doesn’t realize is that every woman is a Gourmand. She values the full experience — the anticipation, preparation, participation, and, eventually, the payoff. A little reflective discussion afterward doesn’t hurt either. Just like sharing a fine meal…or a great day out with hounds. Which is one more point to support my claim that foxhunters are the sexiest people on the planet. No Gobblers allowed, only Gourmand Cavemen need apply. </span></div>J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-36044452206026722492010-09-23T12:03:00.013-04:002010-09-23T14:41:01.311-04:00Foxhunters: The Sexiest People on the Planet<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Merriam-Webster provides two definitions of “venery.” The first is “the art, act, or practice of hunting.” The second is “the pursuit of or indulgence in sexual pleasure.” Coincidence? I think not.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">It’s comforting to have the endorsement of the respected Mister Merriam and his colleague Webster for the belief that has come from my years of intensive research <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjupGD3w5P0V6G2SVYHfMOnnE11jxA-sU6g4RKAvS_sgy0ZAvsxWQW3RJWfe3yfU3vDplnJTksCYKnzZ2EFs9HTdT_djEZu7SSsP7mk4C5OmWwFGfon5y3goVaRoAkTUjCDUTSP1aC0fI8P/s1600/EquestrianLadyPortrait7204.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520175452937256450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjupGD3w5P0V6G2SVYHfMOnnE11jxA-sU6g4RKAvS_sgy0ZAvsxWQW3RJWfe3yfU3vDplnJTksCYKnzZ2EFs9HTdT_djEZu7SSsP7mk4C5OmWwFGfon5y3goVaRoAkTUjCDUTSP1aC0fI8P/s320/EquestrianLadyPortrait7204.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 176px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 140px;" /></a>into what makes a man or woman sexy. I can now report without reservation, and with the concurrence of M-W, that <b><i>foxhunters are the sexiest people on the planet</i></b>.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">I have discerned six principles that flow from this which anyone can apply to improve not only their love life but their love <i>of</i> life. It isn’t just about the horses, hounds, and foxes. It’s about attitude. It flows from the foxhunter’s deep appreciation for all things sensual, beautiful, thrilling, and fulfilling. </div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">These six principles are:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: large;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Primal Urges</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: large;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Preparation</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: large;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Patience</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: large;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Persistence</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: large;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Packaging</b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: large;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Payoff</b></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">What follows over the next several weeks are excerpts from the examples and suggestions (called “Tally-ho Tips”) on how you can apply those six principles to your life — even if you live in a city condo, have never been on a horse, and wouldn’t dream of actually riding to hounds. </div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">This advice is directed mainly toward men. Women already know these six secrets, or at least sense them intuitively, which is why ladies heavily dominate the horse world. Unfortunately, many women gravitate to horses as a substitute for great sex because they can’t get their men to see the connection. My intensive research also shows that most men need a good whack upside the head before their attention can be focused on any subject that does not include other men in heavy padding knocking each other over, brightly colored pieces of machinery that go very fast and turn left, or photos of young women wearing little or no clothing (sorry guys, no such pix here). </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Ladies, read these postings as a means of giving structure to the insights you already possess. Then take your keyboard firmly in hand, cock back your arm, and give the man in your life a solid smack with it. Tell him the title to the final posting includes the world “orgasm” and that you’ll be waiting in the bedroom when he’s finished reading it. </div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">Gentlemen, now that I have your attention, let’s take a trip to Sexy-Land.<br />
<br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: red; line-height: 150%;">Tally-Ho Tip #1:</span></b></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: red; line-height: 150%;">Get in touch with your primal urges.</span></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Sex: It’s so easy a caveman can do it. And thank goodness they did. Nothing is more basic to human nature than sex, right? Aren’t we all programmed with an undeniable drive to propagate the species? Doesn’t that justify a man’s desire to, shall we say, “spread his seed” (or, in less Biblical phrasing, screw anything that moves)?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Yes, sex as procreation is pretty basic, a primal urge right down there with the need for food. Sex and food, food and sex. As a personal need, you won’t survive very long without food. As a public need, the human race won’t survive very long without sex. And how did primitive man get primitive sex? By bringing home some primitive <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj82vKzSDRO3Zq1ROnSLnh_obPMhoUXlz1PTnfVjSZ60u5GQeeLGcE_SMS3m5jVDP2Gs0c7TUsqTr7rs6FTTndWseAJJkvfLGCeRpUB3xkcPj1wtww7Mav1YfEqfwU2LMtHZGHUXn0E2wWY/s1600/caveman2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520168925174932498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj82vKzSDRO3Zq1ROnSLnh_obPMhoUXlz1PTnfVjSZ60u5GQeeLGcE_SMS3m5jVDP2Gs0c7TUsqTr7rs6FTTndWseAJJkvfLGCeRpUB3xkcPj1wtww7Mav1YfEqfwU2LMtHZGHUXn0E2wWY/s320/caveman2.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 181px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 197px;" /></a>food. And how did he get that food? He went out hunting for it. </div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Hunting: Darned if that’s not just what we’re going to talk about — tracking down quarry and showing that you can bring home the mammoth burgers. Oog, the mighty hunter, got mighty lucky with the ladies whenever he returned from the hunt with slathering slabs of meat slung over his brawny shoulders. “Ooooh, Oogie baby, come to my corner of the cave tonight.” </div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">But aren’t we beyond all that now? Haven’t we evolved to a higher level of awareness that allows us to keep those primal urges in check?</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Yes and no. The “yes” part has enabled the human race to rise above the primordial muck and realize amazing achievements such as space travel, mobile phones, and online porn. But thanks to the “no” part (and with a little help from online porn) there are now six billion of us homo sapiens on the planet, most of them driving on the same roads you use to get to work. <i>Someone’s</i> not keeping his primal urges in check.</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black;">Perhaps foxhunters, more than others, still hear the call of our ancient blood. When you thunder to the crest of a hill in open country and behold the spectacle of hounds in full cry coursing after their prey, hear the exuberant call of the huntsman’s horn, and then gallop after with reckless abandon, somewhere the specter of a Cro-Magnon relative is grunting his brutish encouragement: “Hunt good!” (And probably wishing he’d lived in a time when he could have done that for a few hours of sport and then gone home to the comforts of his Lascaux condo, where the voluptuous Mrs. Magnon would have been eagerly waiting in the cave corner.)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black;">Foxhunters have the whole package: Enlightenment and lust, challenge and achievement, risk and reward. When it’s good, you’re left breathless, tired, sweating, grinning, a little sore, your heart’s pounding, and your knees are weak. And then it’s time to go home and have great sex! Some don’t even wait that long. The barn will do. In the extreme, it’s straight into the bushes.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black;">Foxhunters are in tune with the full range of human needs and emotions. They can be refined, polite, courteous, and considerate when circumstances call for it. And they can abandon themselves to unbridled, reckless, even risky passion when scent is hot and the chase is on. It’s the perfect balance of achieving self-actualization while still embracing those undeniable primal urges. Find that balance, and you’re on your way to discovering the first of the foxhunter’s six secrets for great sex.</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Start by getting in touch with your primal self. Forget about the artificiality of modern life. Let loose your inner caveman. Imagine a time before <span style="color: black;">packaged foods, plastic shoes, and PETA. Say along with our ancestor Oog, “Hunt good! Sex good!”</span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Then mount up and enjoy the sport.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br />
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Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-33797502668806799662010-09-16T12:11:00.003-04:002010-09-16T12:24:11.182-04:00A Fox In Every Farm Name<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"> <style>p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><b style=""><span style="line-height: 150%;">Sign, sign, everywhere a sign,<br />Blockin' out the scenery, </span></b><b style=""><span style="line-height: 150%;">breakin' my mind.</span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >Five Man Electrical Band</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >I have a request. This is directed to those who move to a rural area where foxhunting is still practiced and who embrace this lifestyle, either riding to hounds themselves or at leas</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ZMCt7TThs6zyLTTOQ3S0D4F4IurK5KRjcgEwp5NTgqltSjVagf6MPzfevnE5DYuss-2HVERV-eYg8ZLN-pVtiydQ34t66HYDOjBlzqUb1CfQITMCODv_qx9P6uhPXRCdquNWnIaMoOMW/s1600/Classic+horse+and+ploughman+framed+farm+sign,+-+any+size,+any+mounting,+any+name_Lg.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 170px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ZMCt7TThs6zyLTTOQ3S0D4F4IurK5KRjcgEwp5NTgqltSjVagf6MPzfevnE5DYuss-2HVERV-eYg8ZLN-pVtiydQ34t66HYDOjBlzqUb1CfQITMCODv_qx9P6uhPXRCdquNWnIaMoOMW/s320/Classic+horse+and+ploughman+framed+farm+sign,+-+any+size,+any+mounting,+any+name_Lg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517546610000572642" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:";" >t supporting the local hunt and allowing its members to cross their land. Bless you, thank yo</span><span style=";font-family:";" >u, may the heavens shower you with health, wealth, happiness, and an abundance of tax shelters. I ask but this: Please don’t use the word “fox” in the name of your farm. We have enough already. We have too many. We have so many that it’s become laughably trite. The only incentive now is to see how many variations of fox-themed farm names people ca</span><span style=";font-family:";" >n come u</span><span style=";font-family:";" >p.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >Think I’m exaggerating? Consider these few examples:</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><span style=""> </span><b style=""><i style="">Fox Acres, Fox Arbor, Fox Bay, Fox Brook, Fox Brush, Fox Call, Fox Cave, Fox Chase, Fox Country, Fox Covert (pronounced “Cover”), Fox Cover (no, not pronounced “Covert”), Fox Cradle, Fox Creek, Fox Crest, Fox Den, Fox Delight, Fox Falls, Fox Farm (that took some deep thought), Fox Fawn (an interspecies commune?), Fox Feather, Fox Fields, Fox Fire, Fox Folly, Fox Found, Fox Frolic, Fox Gallop, Fox Gamble, Fox Gate, Fox Glen, Fox Glove, Fox Grove, Fox Haven, Fox Heaven, Fox Hideout, Fox Hill, Fox Hole (complete with an image of a helmeted fox in a sandbag bunker on the sign), Fox Holloa (pronounced “Holler”), Fox Holler (pronounced, well…”Holler”), Fox Hollow, Fox Hunt (another brilliant stroke of imagination), Fox Knoll, Fox Lair, Fox Lake, Fox Lane, Fox Lea, Fox Ledge, Fox Manor, Fox Mask, Fox Meadows, Fox Mews, Fox Mill, Fox Mount, Fox Mountain, Fox Oaks, Fox Over, Fox Park, Fox Pasture, Fox Path, Fox Paw, Fox Penny, Fox Pines, Fox Point, Fox Pond, Fox Redoubt, Fox Rest, Fox Retreat, Fox Return, Fox Ridge, Fox River, Fox Rock, Fox Roll, Fox Romp, Fox Run, Fox Rush, Fox Shadow, Fox Star, Fox Stream, Fox Stone, Fox Swamp, Fox Tail, Fox Time (or Thyme), Fox Thorn, Foxtopia, Fox Trail, Fox Treat, Fox Tree, Fox Trot, Fox Turn, Fox Watch, Fox Way, Fox Willow, Fox Woods, Fox Vale, Fox Valley, Fox View, Fox Village.</i></b><span style=""></span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >Now replace “Fox” with “Vixen” or “Vixen’s” and you can repeat the entire list.<span style=""></span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >If only it stopped there. But it doesn’t. Let’s move “Fox” to the end of the name and consider these possibilities.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><b style=""><i style=""><span style=";font-family:";" ><span style=""> </span>Lazy Fox, Sneaky Fox, Running Fox, Trotting Fox, Fancy Fox, Briar Fox, Brer Fox, Bold Fox, Hidden Fox, Laughing Fox, Shadow Fox, Sunny Fox, After the Fox, Rocking Fox, Rolling Fox, Wiley Fox, Barking Fox, Granny Fox, Cedar Fox, Swamp Fox, Copper Fox, Flying Fox, Painted Fox, Wild Fox, Sassy Fox, Cozy Fox, Sly Fox, Snooty Fox, Little Fox, Big Fox, Extra Large Fox (just kidding), then there’s a fox of any color (Gray Fox, Red Fox, Blue Fox, Green Fox, etc.) and foxes of any number (One Fox, Two Fox, Three Fox, and so on), Sleepy Fox, Happy Fox, Bashful Fox, Sneezy Fox, Grumpy Fox, Dopey…well, maybe not.</span></i></b><span style=";font-family:";" ><span style=""></span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >I appreciate the spirit behind these names. Each is a counterpoint to the developers’ use of hunt-themed names for places where hunting, or even trail riding, no longer exists. But how about shooting for a little more creativity here folks? And let’s recognize some other woodland critters that are an integral part of the countryside. Doesn’t “Possum Pastures” have a nice alliterative ring to it? Although it’s accurately descriptive of the rural lifestyle, “Knee-deep In Dirt, Debt, Hay and Horseshit Farm” might be hard to fit on a sign. For boldness and accuracy, as well as brevity, it would be tough to beat “Feral Cat Farm.”<span style=""></span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >I will allow one exception to the banishment of the word “fox” from any more farm signs. If your name happens to <span style="font-style: italic;">be</span> “Fox,” you get an exemption.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><br /><span style=";font-family:";" ></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"> <style>p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">© 2010 J. Harris Anderson</p> <p></p>J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-70443655843847754992010-09-08T17:09:00.008-04:002010-09-08T17:36:57.419-04:00A Typology of Foxhunters, Part 11: Chasers <meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>750</o:Words> <o:characters>4278</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>35</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>8</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>5253</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Times; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Tahoma; panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; mso-font-alt:Palatino; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-536870009 1073741843 0 0 415 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: center;" align="center"><b><span style="font-size:14pt;">
<br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: center;" align="center"><b><span style="font-size:14pt;">"</span></b><b style=""><span style=";font-family:Times;font-size:14pt;" >O wad some Power the giftie gie us</span></b><span style=";font-family:Times;font-size:14pt;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: center;" align="center"><b style=""><span style=";font-family:Times;font-size:14pt;" >To see oursels as ith</span></b><b style=""><span style=";font-family:Times;font-size:14pt;" >ers see us!"</span></b><span style=";font-family:Times;font-size:14pt;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: right;"><i style=""><span style="font-family:Times;">To A Louse</span></i><span style="font-family:Times;">
<br />Robert Burns<o:p></o:p></span><b><span style="font-size:14pt;">
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<br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: center;" align="center"><b><span style="font-size:14pt;">"</span></b><b style=""><span style=";font-family:Times;font-size:14pt;" >Let him who is wit</span></b><b style=""><span style=";font-family:Times;font-size:14pt;" >hout sin a</span></b><b style=""><span style=";font-family:Times;font-size:14pt;" >nd has a good pitchin’ arm see how far he can cast this here stone.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.1pt 0in; text-align: right;" align="right"><span style="font-family:Times;">Dave Barry<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >Our journey through a Typology of Foxhunters concludes with</span><span style=";font-family:";" > this week’s posting – Chasers. This series has generated many comments such as “What typology do you think I am?” and “My lawyer will be in touch with you.” Without citing a hard number, I think it’s safe to re</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-tpMbjq7p1JwXLhAmdTl6BwZ-LZwtiA7UmyFkEDQmQ-W1-agzd6irVWY4B-kwQDITLdaXaWCotEQqIwy5EsJkEXdUJahtnH5ycYLO_08lajF2Rr-qNZUNjvqqzKObUQllPvMNTHkS3RO/s1600/Dancing+Fox+%26+Hounds.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 158px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-tpMbjq7p1JwXLhAmdTl6BwZ-LZwtiA7UmyFkEDQmQ-W1-agzd6irVWY4B-kwQDITLdaXaWCotEQqIwy5EsJkEXdUJahtnH5ycYLO_08lajF2Rr-qNZUNjvqqzKObUQllPvMNTHkS3RO/s320/Dancing+Fox+%26+Hounds.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514658769862485634" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:";" >port that the favorability rating of this blog has far outstripped that of Congress (they’re down to </span><span style=";font-family:";" >single digits in some polls now, right?). And as everyone has a suggestion to improve the legislative process, so too have many readers of the Foxhunters Guide fe</span><span style=";font-family:";" >lt moved to suggest other topics for consideration on these pages. All such input is appreciated. And the more detailed the better. As </span><span style=";font-family:";" >the saying goes, “Plagiarism is the highest form of flattery.” (Certainly makes my work easier.)
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<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >For now, though, we’re going to wrap up Foxhunter Typologies with this week’s posting, give the blog a thorough cleansing with cyber disinfectant to wash away any remnants of lingering snarkiness, and turn to other, perhaps less prickly, topics starting next week. But for those of you who appreciate the attitude of Alice Roosevelt Longworth (“If you can’t say something nice, come and sit by me.”), fear not – there’s sure to be a return of the pricklies at some point.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >Here is the final installment of Typologies, the one you’ve all been waiting for…</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaxsn1Ydx1RajLn2I_2TrCd3PDpearhWYtomTlt3bpAFlEaVko0iTzOB_JuzJsiR2qYSRb-W84VjMOe7iggYRx1SyZEq7thaDdiG5xG0Xsx43n5aZqhYR3-0zHtGjKjC9pl8aa0pEYlmCt/s1600/FairfaxHuntPhoto10.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 428px; height: 322px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaxsn1Ydx1RajLn2I_2TrCd3PDpearhWYtomTlt3bpAFlEaVko0iTzOB_JuzJsiR2qYSRb-W84VjMOe7iggYRx1SyZEq7thaDdiG5xG0Xsx43n5aZqhYR3-0zHtGjKjC9pl8aa0pEYlmCt/s320/FairfaxHuntPhoto10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514653761605910226" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:";" ><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><b style=""><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:";" >Chasers<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >Chasers make up the majority of foxhunters. Indeed, everyone reading this should consider himself or herself a Chaser (your good taste in blog selection clearly confirms that). Their primary motivation is a pure and simple love of the chase. Chasers enjoy riding horses and following hounds but the sport is not the main focus of their lives. They ride well enough to endure long runs and jump difficult fences without braggadocio, complaint, or excuse. While many could easily match or even exceed the skill and knowledge level of those serving as staff, the Chaser aspires to no higher office than that of the happy member of the field. They understand the difference between accepting the inherent risk the sport entails and the stupidity of taking unnecessary chances. If called upon to help out in a pinch as, say, field leader or whipper-in, they’ll rise to the occasion and do an admirable job. When the master or whip returns, the Chaser steps aside and rejoins the audience, his or her ego still comfortably intact. Most days Chasers will stay out until the huntsman blows “Going Home.” But when the action drags on for several hours and even fit horses begin to flag they will pull up, let the Superman Striver and his small band of Juice Junkies continue on, and take a leisurely walk back to the trailers, saving both themselves and their horses for another day.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><span style=""> </span>Chasers serve on various club committees, as their schedule allows, and bring a level-headed maturity to the work. They pay their dues on time, recognize the value they receive for the outlay, and kick in extra bucks when appropriate such as at fundraising auctions and for the huntsman’s Christmas bonus. They appreciate the finer points of the sport – proper turnout, order in the field, when to be silent (most of the time), how the day’s hound work is proceeding – but are not insistent that all others adhere to the same old-fashioned standards. They are friendly and polite toward guests and new members, offering assistance and guidance when appropriate. <o:p></o:p><span style=""></span><span style=""></span>
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<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >If there’s a downside to my depiction of Chasers, it’s that they’re so damn admirable it’s hard to poke fun at them.<o:p></o:p><span style=""></span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >Chasers are the backbone of foxhunting, the ones who are aware that the privilege of riding to hounds makes each of us one of the most fortunate people in the world. So why sully this singularly distinctive experience with misplaced ego or personal agenda? The Chaser revels in the joys the sport has to offer, accepts its responsibilities, laughs at his or her own shortcomings, and strives for patience with the foibles of others. If this Typology of Foxhunters has shown nothing else, it’s that when it comes to foibles, each of us contributes in some way, whether major or minor (okay, so maybe some waaaay more major than others). This is what makes us human. And wouldn’t life be damn boring if we were all perfect?<o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >An attitude of patient acceptance strengthens the sense of camaraderie, a belief that we’re all in this sport for the same reasons, that we share the same values. True, we may have come to this pastime from a diversity of backgrounds, but now, in the spirit of the American Dream, we’re all bound together as equals (although “diversity” among foxhunters may have a slightly more narrow definition than it does among the broader populace). <o:p></o:p><span style=""></span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >And so I now conclude the Typology of Foxhunters, for the time being anyway, with one more inclusion of my oft-cited Burnsian riff:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /><span style=";font-family:";" ><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><i style=""><span style=";font-family:";" >I pray no power the giftie gie them<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><i style=""><span style=";font-family:";" >To see themselves as I do see them.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><i style=""><span style=";font-family:";" >May readers sing the praise that’s due me,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><i style=""><span style=";font-family:";" >But none get pissed and try to sue me.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">© 2010 J. Harris Anderson</p> <!--EndFragment--> J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-57518874658166274752010-09-01T18:22:00.008-04:002010-09-02T09:15:41.201-04:00A Typology of Foxhunters, Part 10: Hodads & Hunters Emeriti<meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0/clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>838</o:Words> <o:characters>4779</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>39</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>9</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>5868</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Times; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Tahoma; panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; mso-font-alt:Palatino; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-536870009 1073741843 0 0 415 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><b><span style="font-size:14pt;">
<br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><b><span style="font-size:14pt;">"They also serve who only stand and wait.”</span></b><span style="font-size:14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><i>On His Blindness</i>
<br />John Milton</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><o:p></o:p>This week’s posting gives you two for the price of one. (And considering the price, what a bargain this is!) Although different in critical ways, the two types depicted below share a common thread: their link to foxhunting is missing one critical element – the horse. The difference, however, is that one group has never ridden to hounds and never will while the other group once did but never will again. I have termed the former “Hodads,” an arcane reference that might strike a chord with a few folks out on the Left Coast. The latter group I have dubbed “Hunters Emeriti” if only to impress readers with my grasp of Latin tenses. Each group repre</span><span style=";font-family:";" >sents an important component of the hunting community and can be easily spotted at a tailgate in the field or breakfast at the clubhouse. Neither will be weari</span><span style=";font-family:";" >ng hunting attire; street clothes will reveal their horseless status. The Hodads will be attempting to ingratiate their way into a conversation between those who have just returned from the hunt, seeking some opening for a comment that does not necessitate having been a part of the day’s action. The Hunters Emerti will be attempting to remain upright, possibly with the aid of a cane or walker, wondering who all these people are and if there’s still time to make the Early Bird special at Denny’s.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >In more detail, we consider first…</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /><span style=";font-family:";" ><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><b style=""><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:";" >Hodads<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >In surfing culture a Hodad is someone who hangs out at the beach, likes to associate with surfers, but never actually gets on a board. In the foxhunting world a Hodad is a soci</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5k2i0KUHeVeO57ndepH7sfaIL-dBNZ5MJJwkS3JrAIptM56JN8ezL8jn-TGIpsUyOvq0_pEhW22StNLluXADNwRNQlF0gOF4cebQqEX9K7_3rhknCViM8xWjo-krKDPWi-7tEBVpc7aP/s1600/Surfer+Girl+Cropped.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 186px; height: 217px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5k2i0KUHeVeO57ndepH7sfaIL-dBNZ5MJJwkS3JrAIptM56JN8ezL8jn-TGIpsUyOvq0_pEhW22StNLluXADNwRNQlF0gOF4cebQqEX9K7_3rhknCViM8xWjo-krKDPWi-7tEBVpc7aP/s320/Surfer+Girl+Cropped.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512076135275540898" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:";" >al member, or in some cases a hanger-on politely referred to as “a friend of the hunt” (i.e., he shows up at tailgates but doesn’t actually fork over the few bucks required to be listed officially on </span><span style=";font-family:";" >the club’s social roster). This is someone drawn to the allure of foxhunting but who can’t muster the gumption to actually get on a horse and give it a try. Some live it vicariously through a child or spouse but many don’t even have that connection. <o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >The Hodad’s role, when he or she is a paying social member,</span><span style=";font-family:";" > serves two functions. <o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >First, this membership category provides an additional source of revenue for the club. And it’s pure profit. The Hodad’s dues help offset the cost of maintaining a pack of foxhounds and a string of horses, paying the salary of professional staff, and covering all the other operating expenses the club incurs. But the Hodad doesn’t use the hounds, horses, or staff, other than to show up and admire them as they move off into the countryside where the Hodad can’t go. <o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >Second, Hodads provide a source of redemption for Pose</span><span style=";font-family:";" >rs. The Poser at least gets credit for being out there, on a horse, dealing with all her fears, taking the risks. Her timidity and constant excuses may be a source of annoyance, or amusement, to her fellow hunters but everyone has to recognize that she’s willing to put her feet in the irons and give it a go. She’s the surfer girl who may not be able to take the big curls but will paddle out, catch a wave, and have a wobbly ride back to the beach, arms akimbo to keep her balance, her face locked in grim determination. As long as she’s willing to get on the board, or in this case the horse, she ain’t no Hodad.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /><span style=";font-family:";" ><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >And now for a reverent consideration of…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><b style=""><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:";" >Hunters Emeriti<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >A hunter emeritus is greatly venerated, typically someone who was an avid and active hunter for many years, a major supporter of the club, perhaps an ex-master or a major landowner. Now age and infirmity have taken their toll. The old hunter has swung a leg over a saddle for the last time. There will be no more da</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg3wmvWCOhrLS0rJqzz5omh_occtgHy9wVem0vMoAS4PtFEiE0j-t2RqcdPZrIYtpLsqIprg2BDjA5pb7Ue0MKYleZcWI57r89eah9MxvTIxudkN02Bd12-7WnAsrx8HI1ByynftuP9w4Y/s1600/Old+Couple.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 263px; height: 169px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg3wmvWCOhrLS0rJqzz5omh_occtgHy9wVem0vMoAS4PtFEiE0j-t2RqcdPZrIYtpLsqIprg2BDjA5pb7Ue0MKYleZcWI57r89eah9MxvTIxudkN02Bd12-7WnAsrx8HI1ByynftuP9w4Y/s320/Old+Couple.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512077905485082642" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:";" >ys a-field riding to hounds. But the appeal of the chase and for the hunting-centered lifestyle remains undimmed. They still want to participate in some manner, even if it’s just staying involved as a social member, following a day’s hunting action by car or in the hound truck, attending the club’s social functions, serving as an officer or committee member. Given the premium foxhunters place on tradition, our focus more backward than forward, those who provide a living link to earlier times play a vital role in preserving the sport’s history. Old timers are the elders of our village, the sages who have seen it all, were there for the glory days, took the risks, and lived to tell. <o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >Assuming, that is, they can still form intelligible words. Some are way overdue for a one-way trip to the old hunter’s home. Not only did they live the glory days, they think they’re still <i style="">in</i> the glory days, that it’s 1956 and Ike has just won a second term. <o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >Anyone who has lived much of his life outdoors is likely to end up with skin that looks like they did a Rip Van Winkle in a tanning booth. These folks are walking warnings to remember the sunscreen.<o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >Assuming, that is, they can still walk. I knew one old chap who kept a collection of glass jars filled with all the pins, bolts, and screws that had held various busted parts of his body together while they healed. Another fellow still rode for a few years after he had to give up foxhunting and had a special flap affixed to his saddle pad from which he could hang his cane. The broken neck that ended his hunting career left him a bit gimpy. Another gentleman could walk without aid, sort of. His unsure footfalls made him look like a parody of the drunken sailor. <o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >They may be blubbering, decrepit, withered old sods but they’re <i style="">our</i> old sods. And we all hope to be like them one day. Either that or go out as a privileged few have, to suffer a massive heart attack in the saddle, preferably just after taking a long swig from a lovely lady’s flask, and to then find yourself following hounds through the fields of Elysium before your mortal carcass hits the turf.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"> <meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>4</o:Words> <o:characters>23</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>1</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>1</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>28</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Tahoma; panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Palatino; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">© 2010, J. Harris Anderson<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->
<br /><span style=";font-family:";" ><o:p></o:p></span><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--> J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-81333809656374206862010-08-26T11:57:00.002-04:002010-08-26T12:08:13.933-04:00A Typology of Foxhunters, Part 9: Posers <meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>722</o:Words> <o:characters>4116</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>34</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>8</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>5054</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Tahoma; panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Palatino; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; mso-font-alt:Palatino; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-536870009 1073741843 0 0 415 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><b>"O wad some Power the giftie gie us</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><b>To see oursels as ithers see us!"</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><i>To A Louse</i>
<br />Robert Burns</p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >As threatened…er…<i style="">promised</i> we get to the subject of Posers in this week’s posting. It’s been awhile since I included the Burns quote (above) to underscore the theme and tone of these Typologies. I thought it was time to revisit that </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjckyuuVmrKOwZIu5kd_ukcmLMKslM3tjeaqKe3eWHEObl6VKbHryph6MWXtDimDROjRAuoS-RJ6uqJi59Fv1HJTV5pvT1wDRDCIHvUnHOfapvDiw-0k7EcCs6KdiSva8XAl-tLYcgiRZzL/s1600/captivates_the_earl_medium.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 162px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjckyuuVmrKOwZIu5kd_ukcmLMKslM3tjeaqKe3eWHEObl6VKbHryph6MWXtDimDROjRAuoS-RJ6uqJi59Fv1HJTV5pvT1wDRDCIHvUnHOfapvDiw-0k7EcCs6KdiSva8XAl-tLYcgiRZzL/s320/captivates_the_earl_medium.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509749012487391906" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:";" >quip, portrayed here in the original Burnsian dialect. To get the full effect, try to think of Mel Gibson in <i style="">Braveheart</i> reciting these lines. (Of course, there might be a few folks who, after reading some of these postings, have been sounding more like the Gibson of late, now known more for his incendiary rants than for his onscreen action.) I’ve also included my <i style="">Caveat Lector</i> (Reader Beware) variation on the Burns lines. For the best effect here, to most closely replicate my own sonorous tones, I’d recommend Richard Burton’s voice, preferably from his <i style="">Hamlet</i> period. Alternatively, you could go with Kermit the Frog.
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /><span style=";font-family:";" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family:Palatino;">I pray no power the giftie gie them</span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family:Palatino;">To see themselves as I do see them.</span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family:Palatino;">May readers sing the praise that’s due me,</span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family:Palatino;">But none get pissed and try to sue me.</span></i><o:p>
<br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><o:p>
<br /></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >That said, we present…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><b style=""><u><span style=";font-family:";" ><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;">
<br /></span></o:p></span></u></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><b style=""><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:";" >Posers<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >The Poser loves the <i style="">idea</i> of foxhunting a thousand times more than the act itself. She is enthralled by the glamour and pageantry of the sport, enraptured by the exquisite attire and overjoyed to see a photo of herself in top hat and shadbelly coat, elegantly turned out for Opening Meet. <o:p></o:p><span style=""></span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >As soon as the toe of her highly shined dress boot slips into the stirrup iron, it all goes to hell. She prays that the hunt is slow-paced with few, if any, jumps. The thought of galloping, especially downhill or over rough terrain, causes apoplectic panic. She will often use the excuse that her horse is tired, has a loose shoe, or is just coming back from an injury to justify retiring early. This usually occurs just as hounds are opening at the start of a blazing run.<o:p></o:p><span style=""></span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >One riding instructor described the typical Poser as a “Too Rider." When unable to execute the instructor’s commands, it is always because she worked too late the night before, had to get up too early that morning, her horse is too out of shape, the ground’s too hard (or too soft), the temperature’s too high (or too low), the air’s too moist (or too dry), she’s too sore from her most recent hunting day (even though it was a week and a half ago and she was only out for 20 minutes, having packed it in when the field picked up a canter down a gentle incline which she describes as the side of a cliff).<o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >If she hunts once a week, averaging three hours per hunt, and goes out 20 times per season (enough to say she hunts “regularly”), that’s 60 hours in the field per year. 58 of those hours are likely to be at least uncomfortable and at times filled with shear, nerve-wracking terror. From the master’s opening command “Let’s go hunting!” to the plaintive strains of the huntsman’s horn signaling the end of the day, she just wishes it was over. Why, then, does she subject herself to this torture? Because of the other 8,700 hours in the year during which she can impress her friends, relatives, coworkers, and business clients by subtly dropping references to the fact that she rides to hounds.<o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >To the uninformed she can paint a picture of herself as a bold, accomplished hunter. What the hell, they’ll never actually see her in the hunt field. She knows enough about the terminology and how the sport should be conducted to talk a good show.<o:p></o:p><span style=""></span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >There is a clear distinction between the Poser and the hunting lady who knows her limitations. The former suffers from the gnawing disparity between the reality of her ability compared to how she craves to be seen by her fellow hunters. She may be able to fool all of her non-hunting acquaintances, but those who ride with her know the truth. Still, though, she cannot refrain from continuously embarrassing herself by seeking the spotlight and then failing to perform. It must be a most unpleasant way to go through life and one wishes the Poser would experience an epiphany of self-realization. Unlikely, though, that such will ever occur and one can only pity the poor darling for the turmoil she must suffer.<o:p></o:p><span style=""></span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >By contrast, the humble hunting lady is happy with any moments of sport she is blessed to enjoy. She does not try to portray herself as anything more than she is: a rider of modest ability, one who does not seek out undue risk, understands the essentials of the sport, and if she is not capable of being among the half dozen mud-splattered Juice Junkies who come straggling in after a four hour hunt, she’ll still be at the tailgate to pleasantly serve them up some much-needed nourishment. She is grateful to be a part of our rarified world and at peace with herself. And for that she ain’t no Poser.<o:p></o:p><span style=""></span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" >There are no male Posers. Men are too egotistical and insecure. If a man can’t do something well enough to look good at it – if only in his own self-deluded estimation – he won’t do it. That’s why so many men refuse to dance.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--> J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-79884473666251103882010-08-19T10:06:00.007-04:002010-08-19T10:17:27.561-04:00A Typology of Foxhunters, Part 8: Grande Dames<meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>498</o:Words> <o:characters>2841</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>23</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>5</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>3488</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Times; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Times;">When the Foxhunters Guide blog was launched two months ago, I had not intended for it to become a participatory endeavor. It was, you see, supposed to be all about me, a platform through which I </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDSl43Dh9P1rbchAVo2w4mE0c3oRhJrXxjz02aE2UtDrdhFVstDfEB13B_PGCppl4P6HkRE-KPQcBMDstzY8wZJtwoOHWNWqHl_yIEKS0c_3P5ObG5yRJ5Of1BK2_lpXqEaFGmON6VU9FB/s1600/brian-bedford-as-lady-bracknell.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 140px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDSl43Dh9P1rbchAVo2w4mE0c3oRhJrXxjz02aE2UtDrdhFVstDfEB13B_PGCppl4P6HkRE-KPQcBMDstzY8wZJtwoOHWNWqHl_yIEKS0c_3P5ObG5yRJ5Of1BK2_lpXqEaFGmON6VU9FB/s320/brian-bedford-as-lady-bracknell.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507122951930490866" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:Times;">could impress readers with my deft wordcrafting and sage insights. As it turns out, and to my immense </span><span style="font-family:Times;">surprise, I am not the sole custodian of such talents. Nor am I alone in my inclination to classi</span><span style="font-family:Times;">fy our</span><span style="font-family:Times;"> fellow foxhunters according to identifiable typologies. Suggestions continue to come along at a steady pace, some simply one word leads (e.g., “Thrusters”), others fully developed compositions. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Times;">We’ve already seen the result of Liz Williams’ tip on “False Staffs,” the nicely done lead-in piece on “The Sponge” from our (still) anonymous contributor, and Harry Kuniansky’s addition to “You might be a foxhunter…” Now comes another complete t</span><span style="font-family:Times;">ypology, Gary Mantello’s touching take on that daunting personage many of us have known all too well, the Grande Dame.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Times;">Suggestions and contributions are certainly welcome, even if it means the spotlight is not always on your humble blogger. But for a worthy submission, especially one as well-written as Gary’s, I will gladly share the cyber stage so that you may enjoy reading about…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><b style=""><span style=";font-family:Times;font-size:18pt;" >Grande Dames<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-family:Times;">By Gary Mantello<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Times;">May I humbly suggest that you cover the most terrifying member of the foxhunting bestiary, The Grande Dame. Grande Dames are a subset of that much-discussed group, the Fashion Police, but they are far more fearsome to the new foxhunter. These formidable women know their place exactly in the social hierarchy of the hunting world. Although they will toady to those few they feel to be grander than themselves, they will never fail to let their inferiors know that despite their best efforts they will never be skilled/fashionable/acceptable enough to be considered true foxhunters – or human beings. Although some Grande Dames are brilliant horsewomen, others are merely competent; all Grande Dames, however, are mounted on perfectly made and mannered (sometimes with the help of about 5ccs of Ace Promazine) equines that are the envy of all. The said equines appear to have an almost preternatural understanding that they will end up on a Frenchman's dinner table should they dump milady in the mud during a hunt. Grande Dame mothers have usually frightened at least one of their progeny into becoming a perfect and perfectly correct rider, an embryo Grande Dame, as it were. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Times;">GDs tend to exhibit their recondite social skills in all areas of social life, not just foxhunting. If one proudly tells a GD that young George has just been admitted to Princeton, one will be congratulated before the GD says how sad it is that the school is not what it once was. GDs always get a particular look on their faces when talking to a personage whose last name ends in a vowel. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Times;">You get the picture; anything that makes another person feel small provides a frisson of pleasure for this – not to put too fine a point on it – harpy. In short, imagine Oscar Wilde’s Lady Bracknell, the fearsomely haughty matriarch in <i style="">The Importance of Being Ernest</i>, crossed with a werewolf. A werewolf, mind you, descended from werewolves that came over on the Mayflower.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /><span style="font-family:Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Times;">There is no male equivalent to the Grande Dame. (Grande Monsieurs? I'm grasping for a term here.) If there were, they would get their respective/collective blocks knocked off unless they had won their house boxing championships at Eton. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--> J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-15541052660521159222010-08-12T08:40:00.007-04:002010-08-12T09:12:57.700-04:00A Typology of Foxhunters, Part 7: Strivers <meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>496</o:Words> <o:characters>2830</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>23</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>5</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>3475</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Tahoma; panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Palatino; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; mso-font-alt:Palatino; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-536870009 1073741843 0 0 415 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">We continue with another excerpt from the Foxhunter Typologies. This week’s posting</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikG3h_Y6B2BLOx4s5nsoCjm_Q3tE5mmUhF5eaXb1wFAF0dytAnJvCy-rq2MkdXVpLMWwmV4593AiUkRHCr8vZ041ZVGiwEc_EA1oU8KPIQkpL_PMM9_LXLs3n6cF2usr-JZi8BWkLukORM/s1600/Sir-Alfred-Munnings-A-November-Morning-97616.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 147px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikG3h_Y6B2BLOx4s5nsoCjm_Q3tE5mmUhF5eaXb1wFAF0dytAnJvCy-rq2MkdXVpLMWwmV4593AiUkRHCr8vZ041ZVGiwEc_EA1oU8KPIQkpL_PMM9_LXLs3n6cF2usr-JZi8BWkLukORM/s320/Sir-Alfred-Munnings-A-November-Morning-97616.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504509741823750098" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:Palatino;"> a</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">ddresses Strivers, without whom there would be no foxhunting. Ours is not a </span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">sport for na</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">mby-pambies. Leadership requires an ability to herd cats, act decisively, and show ab</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">solu</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">te con</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">fid</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">ence in any situation. Having demonstrated those abilities in less significant arenas (e.</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">g</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">., industry, governance, space exploration, etc.), </span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">the Striver sets his sights on the most challenging undertaking of all – leading a group of unruly foxhunters. Those of us not so constructed, we who are content to simply ride among the ranks, are thankful for our dearly beloved Strivers. Wh</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">ich is not to say, however, that we’re above making the occasional comment regarding those whose backsides we have spent many hours observing. And so we present…</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><b style=""><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:Palatino;font-size:28pt;" >Strivers<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0/clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>377</o:Words> <o:characters>2149</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>17</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>4</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>2639</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Tahoma; panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Palatino; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">The Striver is an A personality type writ large. He is supremely self-confident and certain that God has put him on this earth to be a leader of men. The job opportunities for cavalry officers are slim these days but serving as a hunt master is the next best thing. His need for dominance extends beyond the hunting field to include all aspects of club management. He can be the most gracious, charming, delightful person you have ever met, a man you would willing follow anywhere and whose biding you would do without question or hesitation. Or he can be the most overbearing, rude, self-focused, nasty, and dictatorial SOB you’ve ever had the misfortune to encounter. These opposing traits are often embodied in the same person. <o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">A lifetime of striving has brought him wealth, property, and position (along with multiple mistresses and at least one trophy wife). His land makes up a substantial portion of the hunt’s territory and without his generous support the club would suffer immensely. He may have even started the club himself and owns the kennels, hounds, and staff residence outright. <o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Many Strivers are not content to simply lead the field while the hired help hunts the hounds. Instead, they take over this role as well, fully convinced that not one person in the entire world can do the job as expertly as they can. Not only must all people bow to the Striver’s will but so must hounds and horses. The one creature capable of foiling the Striver’s quest for total dominance over all that moves is the fox himself. The need to bring this wily opponent into submission fuels the Striver’s passion for the chase. It may be that the Striver considers the fox alone to be his equal for wits, drive, boldness, and supreme self-confidence in the face of overwhelming odds. In a contest of three dozen foxhounds versus one fox, the Striver will always identify with the fox.<o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Not every master is a Striver. But every Striver is either a master or is steadily working his way toward obtaining that office. If the current hunt doesn’t offer sufficient opportunity, he’ll either switch to another club more likely to need his redoubtable leadership skills or break away and start his own, appointing himself master and huntsman.<o:p></o:p>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Other than a few lingering old fashioned customs of dress and speech, foxhunting is, for the most part, a gender-neutral sport. The use of the masculine pronoun in the paragraphs above notwithstanding, a woman is just as likely to be a master as is a man. And she is equally likely to fit the Striver profile. Some are even rumored to have testicles. Or wish they did.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-6149237469927474592010-08-05T06:32:00.008-04:002010-08-05T06:55:43.380-04:00A Typology of Foxhunters, Part 6: The Sponge<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDy9w05trnfdQuXD8flJaLGRN9Ls3v2I-5eXO2Yi1Z_60K9gThAF7bOMuFY4ajGZqk1taIDXDln3eK9_zqPw5NwdWiE6_W7woNiMNFwkScNyUpb_-BOMOEy8B4_cl4EaEJ7eI1TQtHYi2m/s1600/declares2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 455px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDy9w05trnfdQuXD8flJaLGRN9Ls3v2I-5eXO2Yi1Z_60K9gThAF7bOMuFY4ajGZqk1taIDXDln3eK9_zqPw5NwdWiE6_W7woNiMNFwkScNyUpb_-BOMOEy8B4_cl4EaEJ7eI1TQtHYi2m/s320/declares2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501874609465338562" border="0" /></a>"Mr. Sponge declares himself." (John Leech, 1817-1864)
<br /></div>
<br /><meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>980</o:Words> <o:characters>5591</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>46</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>11</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>6866</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Palatino; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">As we’re roughly at the mid-point of the Foxhunter Typologies, I thought it approp</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">riate to note that I am hardly alone in my observations of “types” within the foxhunting w</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">orld. Virtually all of the typologies consist of a hefty p</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">ortion of input from acquaintances that have, ove</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">r the years, remarked on one type of character or another whom they have had the pleasure, amusement, or annoyance to encounter. This process has also led to a composite result. There is no one person who solely represents any of the typologies. If anyone thinks he or</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;"> she is the single example on which any typology is based, that person is mistaken. Eliminate any individual who may see some aspects of himself or herself in a given type, and there would still be ample resources available to have crafted the exact same depiction. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">My involvement in a recent project commemorating the anniversary of a certain sporting association provided me with the unique opportunity to work with every recognized foxhunting club in North America, all 165 of them. Over the three years spent on this project, the resources for typology profiles expanded considerably. While my own hunting experience is limited to a few clubs in the Mid-Atlantic region, I have been gratified to learn that readers from Georgia to Texas to California have echoed the same sentiments about their fellow fox chasers.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">As was noted when one typology was posted – False Staffs – the inspiration was not my own, but was suggested by a long-serving whip with far more experience than I have on this topic. In that same vein, a suggestion to embellish the Nouveau Gentry typology has come in the form of a comment submitted by a reader who chose to remain anonymous. And a shame that is because the succinct profile he or she crafted shows an insight and eloquence for which the writer deserves credit. Of course, “succinct” is not my forte so I could not resist taking the germ of the idea and expanding on it. Herewith is the result:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><b style=""><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:Palatino;font-size:18pt;" >The Sponge<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><b style=""><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:Palatino;font-size:14pt;" >A Subspecies of Nouveau Gentry<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><b style=""><span style="font-family:Palatino;">From an Anonymous Reader:<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">“Another more common variety of the Fox Hunting Nouveau Gentry wannabe is a species affectionately known as the ‘Sponge’. The Sponge is a person of little innate ability, limited education, and considerably low motivation to succeed in the adult business world. This person’s sole existence is for the pleasure of the sport and the thrill of the chase – both the two- and four-legged variety. The Sponge knows when opportunity knocks and how to strike. They carefully seek out the recently separated, divorced or widow of the deceased with the means to keep him in the lifestyle for which he believes he deserves. The Sponge cherishes and embraces the material possessions of the former spouse and is more than willing to step into the breach to become the surrogate spouse. He does not wait for the pajamas or the bed to get cold – he moves swiftly and deliberately to occupy the persona of the Nouveau Gentry.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><b style=""><span style="font-family:Palatino;">My Elaboration:<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">In an effort to help conceal his pedestrian roots, the cunning Sponge attempts to pass himself off as a member of the shabby aristocracy. His hunting kit appears to have been handed down from the time of his great-grandfather, although it was actually bought at the consignment shop. A touch of unkempt hair and laconic drawl add to the illusion that his direct ancestors rode to hounds with General Washington and Billy Lee. This façade facilitates his move from a nameless suburbia to the heart of hunt country, courtesy of the newly unattached recipient of his affections. The masquerade that he is, as our anonymous contributor noted, in his own estimation deserving of the foxhunting gentry lifestyle is further enhanced with well-timed references to how it was in “the old days” (by which he means the latter part of the second Bush Administration). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">To further the subterfuge he steers his new paramour toward the formation of fresh friendships with those less familiar with his past. Perish forbid anyone of position in the hunting community should see his actual CV wherein his limited education and spotty employment record are revealed. If at all possible, his highest achievement would be to switch allegiance to another hunting club where a clean slate would allow him to write his own story.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">The Sponge’s lexicon gradually progresses in the use of the personal pronoun from “hers” (house, barn, truck, tractor, horses, land, etc.) to “ours” to “mine.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Yet for all that posturing and obfuscation, it can be argued that The Sponge provides a public service. The foxhunting world is long on unattached women and miserably short on available men. The single man who hunts purely for his own pleasure is a rare commodity indeed. The line-up of ladies more than eager to enter into a partnership is legion. Many of these ladies are already self-sufficient, for one reason or another, and not in need of a provider. What they seek is a companion. And without the demands imposed on those who would be titans of industry, The Sponge has ample time for the quotidian chores of daily farm life as well as adventures afield for foxhunting and other pleasures. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Perhaps the greatest risk faced by the target of The Sponge’s affections is that she will incur the ire of her single friends over her good fortune while they remain alone, still awaiting the arrival of their Sponge Charming. The availability of so many companion-less ladies in the hunting world suggests potential for a new, specially focused matching service. Sponges R Us? eSponges.com? Or, to borrow a bit of inspiration from a local racing syndicate, how about Pelvic Venture?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">As our contributor pointed out, the passing of a spouse is one possibility for the vacancy The Sponge now fills. But our astute observer lists separation and divorce ahead of widowhood. This, then, would indicate that someone chose to leave that bed, those pajamas, all those possessions, and the partner herself so that he might pursue options more to his own pleasures. The Sponge is then the grateful recipient of what The Spouse has left behind through his own philandering and malfeasance.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">To be sure, the arrival of a Sponge into hunting territory and his immediate posturing as “Gentry” (whether Nouveau or Vieux) is likely to raise a few eyebrows. Some gentlemen who have achieved their positions and possessions strictly through their own hard work and well-applied talents may look askance at this interloper. They see in him the old fable of the carefree grasshopper who has fiddled away the summer of his life while the industrious ant prepared for winter. But unlike the lesson of the fable, now that winter approaches the blasted grasshopper keeps on fiddling while the poor ant continues to struggle onward. It’s just not fair. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-50637804209071755052010-07-29T11:51:00.007-04:002010-08-06T12:27:19.952-04:00You Might Be A Foxhunter If... <meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0/clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>523</o:Words> <o:characters>2985</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>24</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>5</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>3665</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Tahoma; panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Palatino; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink {color:blue; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed {mso-style-noshow:yes; color:purple; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} /* List Definitions */ @list l0 {mso-list-id:2130513916; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:-1250252774 -2100769304 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715;} @list l0:level1 {mso-level-tab-stop:.25in; mso-level-number-position:left; margin-left:.25in; text-indent:-.25in;} ol {margin-bottom:0in;} ul {margin-bottom:0in;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><b style=""><i style=""><span style="font-family:Palatino;">If you own a home that is mobile and </span></i></b></span><b style=""><i style=""><span style=";font-family:Palatino;font-size:14pt;" ><span style="font-size:130%;">five cars that aren’t, you might be a redneck.</span><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right; line-height: 18pt;" align="right"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Jeff Foxworthy<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">As promised, we tak</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">e a break from Snarkytown this week and instead toss up some quips likely to cause fewer, if indeed any, ruffled feathers. And possibly a few more chuckles</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;"> as well. It’s been said that a “highbrow</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhymg5ExvlnykobUApJd-7bM9-XpSGNjkXMnCPj2osYVMK7Nyqug0BlZvQ8ehxwzmMPr9wyaRTANmiZX6qDJ2hLl0nEkJw1vpySKhhegQzjf612Qp0rJ9lJh-HlyuiedGRdgnZgUTjuiIAr/s1600/Bless+this,+Padre2.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhymg5ExvlnykobUApJd-7bM9-XpSGNjkXMnCPj2osYVMK7Nyqug0BlZvQ8ehxwzmMPr9wyaRTANmiZX6qDJ2hLl0nEkJw1vpySKhhegQzjf612Qp0rJ9lJh-HlyuiedGRdgnZgUTjuiIAr/s200/Bless+this,+Padre2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499357179888632994" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:Palatino;">” is someone who can listen to Rossini’s <i style="">William Tell Overture</i> and <i style="">not</i> think of the Lone Ranger. In the hunting world, that might be said of anyone who’s never heard of Jeff Foxworthy’s “You Might Be A Redneck” jokes. But, then, it’s likely that anyone who has attained that level of sophistication probably isn’t reading this blog anyway. (Or isn’t even using a computer for that matter.) For the rest of us, this week’s posting consists of some foxhunter variations on the “You Might Be…” theme. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Several of these were inspired by helpful suggestions from fellow hunters (although I was only attentive enough to record one such, from Harry Kuniansky, for a credit citation). But I’m sure there are plenty of creative juices flowing out there that can expand on this concept. So if you feel inspired, please add a comment or email me your suggestions (<a href="mailto:foxblitzer@aol.com">foxblitzer@aol.com</a>) and we’ll keep adding to the list.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">And speaking of suggestions, a helpful (albeit regrettably anonymous) follower recently added a comment under the Nouveau Gentry typology suggesting another category: The Sponge. It’s highly insightful, well written, and will soon appear as the newest addition to the Typology of Foxhunters, most likely next week (with a bit of expansion and elaboration that this contribution deserves). <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Now, here are some…<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><b style=""><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><b style=""><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You Might Be A Foxhunter If…</span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;">
<br /><b style=""><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">1.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You’ve ever been charged with riding while intoxicated.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">2.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You’ve ever been pulled over on your way to the hunt ball and been asked if the circus is in town.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">3.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You’ve ever mucked out a stall wearing a tuxedo or an evening gown.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">4.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You’ve ever peed in a stall while wearing a tuxedo or an evening gown.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">5.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You have your orthopedist’s private number on speed dial.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">6.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You can legally claim your vet as a dependent on your income tax forms.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">7.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You drive a $2000 car and ride a $20,000 horse.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">8.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">The only religious service you regularly attend is Blessing of the Hounds.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">9.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You think it makes perfect sense that a heavy, dinner-style meal served in late afternoon is referred to as “breakfast.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">10.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Your sporting attire is all custom made and the rest of your wardrobe comes from Tractor Supply.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">11.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You can recite the bloodlines of every hound in your club’s kennels but frequently forget the names of your own children.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">12.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Gentlemen: You’d rather read <i style="">Practical Horseman</i> than <i style="">Playboy</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">13.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Ladies: You’d rather read <i style="">Covertside</i> than <i style="">Cosmo</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">14.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Your house has a mudroom that’s actually full of mud.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">15.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You’ve ever been busted for possession of a controlled substance and it turned out to be Ace.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">16.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You’ve ever run out of Tylenol and used Bute instead.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">17.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You’ve ever found out that your spouse was having an affair with the huntsman and decided it would be easier to replace the spouse than to find a new huntsman. (Submitted by Harry Kuniansky)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">18.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You’re only willing to accept a job that allows you to take off at least one weekday from September through March.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">19.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You can walk through airport security naked and still set off the metal detector.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="">20.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family:Palatino;">You’ve ever told a paramedic, “If you even <i style="">think</i> about cutting off my custom-made boots, I will get up off this stretcher and kick your ass!” (To personalize this one, feel free to replace “custom-made boots” with “leather breeches,” “scarlet coat,” or any other garment a thoughtless EMT was approaching with scissors in hand.)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in; line-height: 18pt;">
<br /><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">© 2010, J. Harris Anderson<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-86314938255422763772010-07-21T15:13:00.010-04:002010-07-22T13:06:33.044-04:00A Typology of Foxhunters, Part 5: Saddle Tramps<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEdYCu4jZc6WDaa7W_7xHydOUVlwUXHctWunXVO3iZ4XG6Z5yB0MnVnYsOfFYgwG_UspiPZFBTo6HOdIyhgomzxppeAPtrBOnTHumCH5pg67N6BXgk5jvT0O7yAD7IasHLK8i99M4A2PBm/s1600/Fergus+Cropped.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 186px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEdYCu4jZc6WDaa7W_7xHydOUVlwUXHctWunXVO3iZ4XG6Z5yB0MnVnYsOfFYgwG_UspiPZFBTo6HOdIyhgomzxppeAPtrBOnTHumCH5pg67N6BXgk5jvT0O7yAD7IasHLK8i99M4A2PBm/s200/Fergus+Cropped.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496778059375322450" border="0" /></a>
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<br /><meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0/clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>1091</o:Words> <o:characters>6223</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>51</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>12</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>7642</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Courier New"; panose-1:2 7 3 9 2 2 5 2 4 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Wingdings; panose-1:5 2 1 2 1 8 4 8 7 8; mso-font-charset:2; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 0 65536 0 -2147483648 0;} @font-face {font-family:Tahoma; panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Palatino; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} /* List Definitions */ @list l0 {mso-list-id:1843664451; mso-list-type:hybrid; mso-list-template-ids:-1966718682 -1702460148 67698691 67698693 67698689 67698691 67698693 67698689 67698691 67698693;} @list l0:level1 {mso-level-number-format:bullet; mso-level-text:; mso-level-tab-stop:.25in; mso-level-number-position:left; text-indent:-.25in; font-family:Symbol; color:windowtext;} ol {margin-bottom:0in;} ul {margin-bottom:0in;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt; text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b style=""><i style=""><span style="font-family:Palatino;">“There never was a horse that couldn’t be rod</span></i></b></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><b style=""><i style=""><span style="font-family:Palatino;">e;<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b style=""><i style=""><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Never was a cowboy who couldn’t be throwed.”</span></i></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2in; text-align: right; line-height: 18pt;" align="right"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Cowboy Proverb</span><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">This week we reach the halfway point in </span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">the Typology of Foxhunters with a con</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">sideration of <b style="">Saddle Tramps</b>. We have here an homage to the hardworking, too often unsung professionals who make up a critical segment of the foxhunting community.<span style=""> </span>God bless ‘em, raise a toast, and pass the liniment!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;">
<br /><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">So far in this exercise we’ve considered <b style="">Nouveau Gentry, Juice Junkies, Falstaffs, </b>and<b style=""> False Staffs</b>. Still to come are<b style=""><span style="color:black;"> Strivers, Posers, Hodads, Hunters Emeriti, and Chasers. </span></b><span style="color:black;">Next we</span></span><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="color:black;">ek, though,<b style=""> </b>we’ll take a little break with some excerpts from another piece in the Foxhunters Guide collection, <b style="">“You Might Be a Foxhunter If…”</b> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"> See the previous postings for my standard poetically worded <i style="">Caveat Lector</i> (Reader Beware!). And a nod to the wonderful artist Jean Abernethy whose “Fergus” provides this week’s pictorial embellishment.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;">
<br /><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><b style=""><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Saddle Tramps<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">A few of those out hunting on any given day are professional horse people: jockeys, trainers, dealers, or grooms, as well as most huntsmen and some whippers-in. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">The chasm between a pro and the average recreational foxhunter is akin to the gap between a cardiac surgeon and a Boy Scout who just earned his CPR badge. If someone’s paying you to take a horse </span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">out hunting, it’s because of one or a combination of several possible reasons.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <ul><li><span style="font-family:Palatino;">The horse is a rank greenie that’s never seen a pack of hounds and when asked to remain calm in the face of an apparent attack by three dozen howling canines may strongly object.<o:p></o:p></span></li><li><span style="font-family:Palatino;">The horse is fresh off the racetrack, not accustomed to going at a controlled pace behind several other horses, and when asked to do so may strongly object.<o:p></o:p></span></li><li><span style="font-family:Palatino;">The horse is known to have bad habits, such as kicking or biting, and when reprimanded for such misbehavior may strongly object.<o:p></o:p></span></li><li><span style="font-family:Palatino;">The horse refuses to cross streams, is unreliable at jumps, won’t stand at checks, won’t load onto a trailer, won’t unload off a trailer, bolts off a trailer like it was shot from a cannon, won’t stand when being mounted, bucks, crow-hops, or rears and when asked, no matter how politely, to refrain from such antics, strongly objects. <o:p></o:p></span></li></ul>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Should you ever be asked to work with a horse like this, even if offered a princely sum to do so, I have but one piece</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;"> of counsel: Strongly object.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">It is not hard to spot the pros in the hunt field. They will be the best riders and the most shabbily dressed. No one’s ever gotten rich riding and training other people’s horses. A pro’s clothing takes a severe beating and the pockets of those tattered breeches aren’t stuffed with wads of folding cash to buy new gear.
<br /></span></p>
<br /><meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0/clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>90</o:Words> <o:characters>514</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>4</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>1</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>631</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Tahoma; panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Palatino; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""> </span>The pros ride in the back of the field, the traditional position for “servants.” However, while this might seem like they are being relegated to a subservient position, the foxhunting equivalent of the back of</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJ8i_ykPhWR43eIwmtlX25zkjAsg6mvOFfY-so06zY9JSHDgBZDjEexsphY6qHp3QCZrVIYSVqKFFZ589HHzNrNKIMkszLW1-HjwufnWA47ISgXMqpsxfQRcJ3MyE1eY4ugUSJyyZkrhX/s1600/Cowboy+Cropped.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJ8i_ykPhWR43eIwmtlX25zkjAsg6mvOFfY-so06zY9JSHDgBZDjEexsphY6qHp3QCZrVIYSVqKFFZ589HHzNrNKIMkszLW1-HjwufnWA47ISgXMqpsxfQRcJ3MyE1eY4ugUSJyyZkrhX/s200/Cowboy+Cropped.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496449879730000642" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:Palatino;"> the bus, it is usually the safest place to be; not because the horses they're riding are dangerous, but because many of the non-professionals riding in front of them are. You're always better off staying behind those unable to control their horses. And the show can provide a nice bit of entertainment as well.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">But despite the sheer enjoyment offered to the pros bringing up the rear, they often retire from the action early. This is likely because:<o:p></o:p></span></p> <ul><li><span style="font-family:Palatino;">The horses they ride aren’t in good enough condition to hunt for several hours at a stretch.<o:p></o:p></span></li><li><span style="font-family:Palatino;">The horses expend so much energy through their exuberant antics that even supremely fit animals soon reach a point of exhaustion.<o:p></o:p></span></li><li><span style="font-family:Palatino;">The owner stipulated that he’d like the horse ridden for at least two hours and at the one hundred and twentieth minute the rider punches the clock and calls it quits.<o:p></o:p></span></li><li><span style="font-family:Palatino;">There’s a string of eight other horses still to be worked back at the farm and daylight’s a-wasting.</span></li></ul> <!--EndFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">There are two horse-related career options under the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Saddle Tramps</span> heading: exercise grooms and dealers with horses for sale.
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Grooms are paid to take other people's horses out hunting for conditioning and to keep them settled in to the routine. This assures that when the owner goes hunting whatever horse he or she rides is ready to go and will provide a good day’s sport with minimal effort. (What services the groom provides to keep the employer properly conditioned is the subject for another article, possibly by another author.)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""> </span>The remaining category of professionals consists of dealers – those with horses for sale, either their own or consignments. Used car salesmen have it easy compared to horse dealers. There’s no Kelley Blue Book with generally accepted prices. Take two horses with identical specs and one may be priced two or three times higher – maybe even more – than the other. Cars sitting on the lot don’t have to be fed, don’t require vet services, don’t need shoeing, don’t have to be trained or exercised, and don’t have to be taken out by prospective buyers under conditions where a wheel could fall off, the car could flip over for no apparent reason, or any number of similar disasters could occur, thus not only squashing the deal but lowering the object’s value. Many months and much further expense may be required to restore the asset to saleable condition. Worse still, the asset may be damaged beyond repair.
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Some dealers tend to be the prickly type, easily riled by the slightest negative remark about a horse he has for sale. There’s no such thing as enjoying a relaxing day in the hunt field. Every outing is about making contacts and moving product. Horses aren’t the dealer’s buddies, they’re his business. Given that, some prickliness is understandable.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""> </span>Those of us who lack the talent, athleticism, and courage required to be a professional rider are truly grateful for those willing to take our money and smooth out the rough edges of our beloved mounts. But I will offer up this word of advice to anyone with a desk job who might be tempted to consider entering the world of professional riding: No matter how romantically appealing their life may look, like the carefree cowboys of yore, envy not the path of the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Saddle Tramp</span>. Give your cubicle a big kiss and be thankful you can earn a living from the safety of a comfortable chair and not on the back of an explosive bundle of ill-tempered horse flesh.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">© 2010, J. Harris Anderson<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-58881093982271296322010-07-15T09:48:00.010-04:002010-08-12T09:16:59.211-04:00A Typology of Foxhunters, Part 4: False Staffs <meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0/clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>1357</o:Words> <o:characters>7739</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>64</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>15</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>9504</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Tahoma; panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Palatino; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; panose-1:0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-alt:Palatino; mso-font-charset:77; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-format:other; mso-font-pitch:auto; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><b style=""><i style=""><span style="font-family:Palatino;">“If you can’t say something nice, then sit next to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2in; text-align: right; line-height: 18pt;" align="right"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Alice Roosevelt Longworth</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 2in; text-align: right; line-height: 18pt;" align="right">
<br /><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Liz Williams, long-serving whipper-in for Snickersville Hounds, gets the credi</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb0MvbOX8pOcFh8xaMbU8yWoj5NFcGoARnjp_EuLO0XkZ4ifyLqxxGLTHB8PeIuXiK3EVD2MluZtHdXAyQMfklwhGuuJQZjCsStt1nn394iEvbW2tdf8vqfVvrEg2RKvpk-m6srli8bU7z/s1600/Belle+Meade1+Cropped.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 305px; height: 236px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb0MvbOX8pOcFh8xaMbU8yWoj5NFcGoARnjp_EuLO0XkZ4ifyLqxxGLTHB8PeIuXiK3EVD2MluZtHdXAyQMfklwhGuuJQZjCsStt1nn394iEvbW2tdf8vqfVvrEg2RKvpk-m6srli8bU7z/s200/Belle+Meade1+Cropped.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494140195392781650" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:Palatino;">t for suggesting <b style="">False Staffs</b>, this week’s excerpt from <i style="">A Typology of Foxhunters</i>. In case you missed the previous postings, these musings result from my observation of several clearly definabl</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">e archetypes that make up the comm</span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">unity of fellow foxhunters. So far we’ve considered <b style="">Nouveau Gentry, Juice Junkies </b>and<b style=""> Falstaffs</b>. Still to come are<b style=""><span style="color:black;"> Saddle Tramps, Strivers, Posers, Hodads, Hunters Emeriti, and Chasers.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br />See the previous postings for my standard poetically worded <i style="">Caveat Lector</i> (Reader Beware!).
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;">
<br /><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><b style=""><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><b style=""><span style="line-height: 150%;font-family:";" >False Staffs<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">In the old days, especially in England, there was no glory in being “staff.” The whippers-in were the hired help. The pay was lousy, the work was hard, conditions harsh. On the upside, you could develop an extensive vocabulary of abusive language thanks to constant beratings from your esteemed huntsman. If you survived long enough, and learned a thing or two about hunting, you might one day become a huntsman yourself. Then you could be the one berating the next generation of under-skilled kids with severely limited career options.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""></span><span style=""></span>Now, though, there’s no better way to impress at a hunt country cocktail party then to casually remark, “I whip-in to Leroy Liptschitz at Skunk Hollow Hounds.” A few hunts have perhaps one professional whip serving their huntsman. But the great majority of those filling this role today are “honorary” (i.e., volunteers who do it strictly for the love of the sport).<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">And if you believe that parenthetical comment, you’re probably wondering why that promised million dollar check from the Bank of Nigeria hasn’t arrived yet. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">For many, perhaps most, the motives are pure. But this isn’t about them, the ones who can actually ride well enough, have a sufficient understanding of hound work, know the country, and are willing to put in the countless, and thankless, hours of work at kennels and in the field to make it all come together on hunting days. These are the rare folks who don’t care about titles, accolades, or attention.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Now, in the spirit of Alice Roosevelt Longworth, let’s talk about some others, those who fall into two subcategories: whipper-wannabes and whipper-shouldn’t-bes.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">The wannabe dearly covets the status that goes with the office of a whip. She’d love to be seen discussing the day’s first draw with the huntsman, keeping the hounds packed up at the meet, then riding off to her appointed position as the day’s sport begins, preferably doing so by sailing effortlessly over a four foot fence in full view of the entire field. How she yearns to call out, “Staff, please!” and watch as those of less talent obediently move to let her pass, bowing to her superior skills and with the humble knowledge that but for her they would not be enjoying such a fine time of hunting. She longs for the day when, having stopped a split pack through her uncanny ability to put herself in just the right place at the right time, she then leads the errant hounds back to the grateful huntsman, no less than eight couple dutifully following at her horse’s heels. She dreams of being cited by the master in a public forum – and only a huge gathering of members and guests will do – as “an essential member of our hunt staff.” And, of course, there is that sublime self-satisfaction that comes from gazing demurely over one’s mint julep and blushing with the purest humility when a respected member of the hunt says, “We’re so blessed to have you as part of the Skunk Hollow staff, Esmeralda. I just don’t know how we could get along without you.” <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Well, dream on, Esmie darling. You’re missing a couple of key ingredients for such visions to ever become reality. Maybe more than a couple. You see, the whipper-wannabe is at best a mediocre rider. She may be unable to get reliably over all the jumps even when led by the master and several others ahead of her. A big, scary fence on her own? Not a chance. What she knows about hounds she learned mostly from Disney cartoons. Ride out into rough country on days when the wind is up, temperatures are dropping, and the sky is threatening to deliver a deluge of rain, snow, or even sleet? You gotta be kidding. Blaze your way through trail-less terrain when hounds are on the scent, ignoring the slicing brambles, smacking branches, and clinging vines that could pull you from the saddle? Um, maybe not. Demonstrate the skill and composure required to send your horse wherever necessary, including such fun schooling opportunities as into an ice-covered stream, past a monstrous piece of farm machinery spewing out smoke and crop debris, calmly walk alongside a paddock filled with high-strung horses, bleating goats, squawking guinea fowl, or – most fun of all – spitting llamas? Well, we came in sixth in the judged pleasure ride, didn’t we? Exhibit the balance to ride with your whip in one hand, pistol in the other, radio tucked under your chin, and the reins in your teeth? Who knew whipping-in could be so complicated? Stay out hours after everyone else is sopping up the last morsels of tailgate fare while you’re still wandering through woods and fields looking for that one damn hound that wandered off? No way. Throw caution and good sense aside when hounds are at risk, running hard toward that dreaded highway, leaping over fences that others wouldn’t even think about jumping so you can head them off before disaster strikes? Gee, maybe whipping-in is a bit more than dear Esmie bargained for.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">A few manage to find ways to steal at least a part of their dearly desired “staff appeal.” They may bid at the silent auction on the opportunity to ride with a staff member. If the huntsman is especially shorthanded, he might even be forced to call on the wannabe for some help, assigning her a relatively safe role so one of his real whips can be freed up for more significant duty. In such instances, Esmie will manage to expand that brief role into a full career in her own mind. It’s like the girl who gets randomly plucked from the front row at a Springsteen concert to come up on stage and dance with The Boss for all of two minutes and, forever after, makes it sound like she was part of the tour.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""> </span><span style=""></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""></span>One good thing about the whipper-wannabe: it’s unlikely her unfulfilled longings will ever cause any detriment to the sport. Sadly, the same cannot be said of the whipper-shouldn’t-be. This is the guy to whom the hunt is indebted in some way. He may be a major landowner or a patron without whose support the club would suffer (or dues would have to be substantially increased). He might underwrite the hunt’s races or allow the kennels to operate on his land. Or he may simply be a crony of the master, a good old buddy for whom the master would do anything (read: he knows where all the masters’ skeletons are buried and will either get his way or start blabbing).<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Whatever the source of his mighty leverage, the result is that if he wants to be a whipper-in, he’ll bloody well be one. The fact that he has little or no real skill for that office doesn’t count for as much as a hound’s toenail. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">The poor huntsman, then, is forced to use him as part of the staff and make the best of it. With any luck, the shouldn’t-be will only want to ride out once in awhile, typically when conditions are pleasant, and might even manage to avoid messing up the sport too badly. Even the best staffers make occasional mistakes, so there’s no reason to expect perfection from a shouldn’t-be. Perhaps he’ll at least attempt to follow the huntsman’s instructions and, if nothing else, ride along the periphery and not try to pretend he’s truly part of the action.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">Yeah, right. Can you spell “chutzpah?” If the shouldn’t-be had that much humility and self-awareness, he wouldn’t be a shouldn’t-be in the first place. He’d be happily riding with the field, enjoying the sport, and letting the real staff do their job. The fact that he has no compunction about using his considerable influence, whatever the source, to get what he wants suggests that he’s not about to acquiesce to the huntsman and assume a subservient role. Nope, this guy’s going to insist on being right in the thick of things, the presumed first whip, a hair’s breadth away from taking over the huntsman’s role himself. He’ll think nothing of running right through the pack, taking his own line and turning the fox, halloaing every moving critter he sees without the slightest concern as to whether or not it’s the hunted quarry.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">The huntsman may hope that, given the shouldn’t-be’s penchant for hot air, he’ll run out of gas after an hour or two, especially if the sport is brisk. But he didn’t amass all that clout by being a namby-pamby. Nope, he’s out there for the duration, fatigue be damned. He’ll show them he’s as tough a hunter as anyone. Although these guys do seem to have the most amazing bad luck when it comes to horseshoes. Seems like one or more comes off, almost without fail, around the one or two hour mark. Damn, he’d like to stay out and “help” the rest of the day, but his horse can’t continue on without a shoe. So he’d better head in, perhaps let the real staffer who got stuck riding with the field come up and take his spot. He has to get back to the meet, and make sure no one finds that nail puller.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><span style=";font-family:";" >© 2010, J. Harris Anderson<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-50438576193657846182010-07-08T11:15:00.005-04:002010-07-08T11:26:12.429-04:00A Typology of Foxhunters, Part 3: Falstaffs<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMzOH1lI8uWeWtNwOrNi5aM-hiLyo1zgyVqZbmHOzfv44s5woUpFIwaga4uY5__7CtVMBo4sPEOjpxdmtT7JUG4f7Kb4-7RmDWap-68IS0OE7xoj9JhfRJ5YQu9-66SLT4OCmVCmaGo9QU/s1600/Christmas+Flask.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 157px; height: 153px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMzOH1lI8uWeWtNwOrNi5aM-hiLyo1zgyVqZbmHOzfv44s5woUpFIwaga4uY5__7CtVMBo4sPEOjpxdmtT7JUG4f7Kb4-7RmDWap-68IS0OE7xoj9JhfRJ5YQu9-66SLT4OCmVCmaGo9QU/s200/Christmas+Flask.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491554727213905954" border="0" /></a>
<br /><meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>467</o:Words> <o:characters>2666</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>22</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>5</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>3274</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Times; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Tahoma; panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; mso-font-alt:Palatino; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-536870009 1073741843 0 0 415 0;} @font-face {font-family:Palatino; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><b>"O wad some Power the giftie gie us</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><b>To see oursels as ithers see us!"</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><i>To A Louse</i>
<br />Robert Burns</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Times;font-size:10pt;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">This week’s excerpt from <i style="">A Typology of Foxhunters</i> addresses <b style="">Falstaffs</b>. In case you missed the previous postings, these musings result from my observation of several clearly definable archetypes that make up the community of fellow foxhunters. So far we’ve considered <b style="">Nouveau Gentry </b>and<b style=""> Juice Junkies</b>. Still to come after <b style="">Falstaffs</b> are <b style=""><span style="color:black;">False Staffs, Saddle Tramps, Strivers, Posers, Hodads, Hunters Emeriti, and Chasers.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br />And although <b style="">Falstaffs</b> is one of the less inflammatory typologies, I still offer my Burns-like caveat by way of disclaimer:</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family:Palatino;">I pray no power the giftie gie them</span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family:Palatino;">To see themselves as I do see them.</span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family:Palatino;">May readers sing the praise that’s due me,</span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family:Palatino;">But none get pissed and try to sue me.</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><b style=""><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;font-family:times new roman;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b style=""><span style="">
<br /></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;font-family:times new roman;" align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><b style=""><span style="">Falstaffs<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Foxhunting is a social sport and for some the emphasis falls on <i style="">social</i> rather than <i style="">sport</i>. Falstaff is a hail-fellow-well-met type, a gregarious chap who thrives on friendly interaction. He has an encyclopedic wealth of jokes and amusing tales (in which he’s often the butt of the story). He brings no personal agenda to the hunt field but simply enjoys his time riding around the countryside in the company of pleasant, like-minded folks. His flask is oversized and always at the ready, filled with his own blend of intoxicants, carefully adjusted to suit the season: light and refreshing for the warm days of early fall, heavier on the kick as the chills of winter arrive.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Some Falstaffs fit the physical mold of Prince Hal’s companion, their appetites clearly revealed by their girth. Others more closely resemble Ichabod Crane, all gangly appendages and bobbing Adam’s apple. Whether endo- or ectomorph, they all ride with the same casual style. Their form would send any riding instructor into a frazzled fit. Their feet stick straight out, their hands are held chest high, their shoulders are hunched as if fixed in a permanent convulsion of laughter. Yet they rarely fall and when they do the chance of injury is slig</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibfGTr8pt30r1cZbjx4-GE-C5VcLuw3S30diNJTyUWXk7zNlfdnAs6zhs0jI5xlqm-Gtq1Pa0vGh4FV1rgrcEPs7H67SCjZbrDQRe5AnUCmyDFDlKICRAAO16W8WTcy7cXgiGwnPmcmJpR/s1600/Rusty+Cline+%26+Smiling+Horse+Cropped.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibfGTr8pt30r1cZbjx4-GE-C5VcLuw3S30diNJTyUWXk7zNlfdnAs6zhs0jI5xlqm-Gtq1Pa0vGh4FV1rgrcEPs7H67SCjZbrDQRe5AnUCmyDFDlKICRAAO16W8WTcy7cXgiGwnPmcmJpR/s200/Rusty+Cline+%26+Smiling+Horse+Cropped.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491555103102290978" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">ht. They are like the intoxicated driver who can walk away unscathed from a six car wreck.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Falstaff seeks no privileged office nor does he desire responsibility. He may agree to sit on the club’s board for an occasional term but you won’t see him slaving away at the kennels, whipping-in, or leading the field – activities all too strenuous and unsociable. He may appear for some trail clearing days, but only if the weather’s nice and he’s sure there will be beer and sandwiches provided afterward. You can count on him showing up for every hunt breakfast and tailgate. He’ll be at the railside on racing days and out on the dance floor at the hunt ball, showing off his scarlet tails, dancing with every lady available.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Falstaff is unlikely to be married. He may have tried it a time or two but found that he was much better at courtship than commitment. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Unlike the gender neutrality of masters and huntsmen, there are no female Falstaffs. Every lady foxhunter, regardless of her relational status, wants to be taken seriously. If unattached she would like to find a suitable companion (other than her obligatory Jack Russell terrier). There are no exceptions to this.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;font-family:times new roman;">
<br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><span style=";font-family:";" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">© 2010, J. Harris Anderson</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-64864853037558694962010-07-01T07:35:00.005-04:002010-07-01T07:46:40.579-04:00A Typology of Foxhunters, Part 2: Juice Junkies<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSSLURqg88HL-j84-B8F_EuqLsxhK_oVXc3NeoV_Ko4maPRo2-kIHaAswz7iOajM35kT_yQ5qZbDCFVn5a1xeC6dHg7RW-5KZkV-SK6mSEQ97W__4Tr6Zb4E-Ezau_FgVGSWFMt4tAQkRt/s1600/Drumlin+Huntsman+Cropped.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 169px; height: 185px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSSLURqg88HL-j84-B8F_EuqLsxhK_oVXc3NeoV_Ko4maPRo2-kIHaAswz7iOajM35kT_yQ5qZbDCFVn5a1xeC6dHg7RW-5KZkV-SK6mSEQ97W__4Tr6Zb4E-Ezau_FgVGSWFMt4tAQkRt/s200/Drumlin+Huntsman+Cropped.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488901370769113490" border="0" /></a>
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<br /><meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>642</o:Words> <o:characters>3664</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>30</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>7</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>4499</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Times; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Tahoma; panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Palatino; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; mso-font-alt:Palatino; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-536870009 1073741843 0 0 415 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><b>"O wad some Power the giftie gie us</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><b>To see oursels as ithers see us!"</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"><i>To A Louse</i>
<br />Robert Burns</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Times;font-size:10pt;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">For our second entry from <i style="">A Typology of Foxhunters</i>, we consider <b style="">Juice Junkies</b>. In case you missed the previous posting, these musings result from my observation of several clearly definable archetypes that make up the community of fellow foxhunters. Last week featured <b style="">Nouveau Gentry</b>. Still to come are </span><b style=""><span style=";font-family:Palatino;color:black;" >Falstaffs, False Staffs, Saddle Tramps, Strivers, Posers, Hodads, Hunters Emeriti, and Chasers.</span></b><span style="font-family:Palatino;">
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<br />And, as was cited last week, I again borrow a theme from Burns in the way of a caveat:</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family:Palatino;">I pray no power the giftie gie them</span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family:Palatino;">To see themselves as I do see them.</span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family:Palatino;">May readers sing the praise that’s due me,</span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><i><span style="font-family:Palatino;">But none get pissed and try to sue me.</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"><b style=""><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><b style=""><span style=";font-family:";" >
<br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><b style=""><span style=";font-family:";" >Juice Junkies<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="">The adrenaline rush – some folks just gotta have it. And nothing gets those adrenal glands pumping out high octane juice like straddling a half ton of muscle and bone as it rockets across rolling fields, zips down twisting wooded trails, and soars over fences built of unforgiving timber and stone. Skydiving may come close, especially when the chute fails to open. <o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style=""><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="">Juice Junkies need that fix; the hard cores need it at least twice a week, three times or more for the worst addicts. Everyday life is too sedate, increasingly devoid of risks, total dullsville. Seat belts, airbags, security checkpoints, gun laws, food packages with all the ingredients and nutritional value listed, product safety warnings (“Do not use hair dryer while in the bathtub.”) – where’s the excitement? What’s the modern person to do for a little thrill now and then?<o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style=""><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="">You could stand in a bathtub full of water and dangle a plugged-in hair dryer around your knees. Or you could go foxhunting. (In the opinion of many, the choices are about equal on the Idiot-O-Meter.)<o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style=""><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="">If you choose the latter to satisfy your adrenaline cravings, you’d best select a hunt club led by a master with a hefty touch of Superman Complex, the kind who thinks he’s bulletproof and will brook no babysitting. It’s keep up or go home, full bore, balls to the wall all the way. A four foot fence with a five foot drop on the landing side? Screw it, hounds are running. Close your mouth and squeeze your legs. This type of field master starts the day with 30 to 40 followers. Five hours later, when the last fox has been put to ground, he may have two or three left. Those are the Juice Junkies.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style=""><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="">Remember the guys in high school who were the natural jocks, who never bothered with training or workouts but could step onto the playing field and win the big game anyway? The ones who got the hottest girls? The handsome wise-asses the women teachers coddled and the men teachers hated? The guys whose voices changed when they were ten, started shaving at twelve, and lost their virginity at thirteen? They couldn’t spell a word like “Renaissance” if given a dozen chances nor name one member of the US Supreme Court (living or dead). They’ve made their way in life on charm, chutzpah, and a stratospheric tolerance for risk, fueled by their belief that fortune shines on them above all others. They chose a career path where success depended more on balls then brains, where they prospered handsomely from their ability to sell cow shit to cattle ranchers.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style=""><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="">They differ from Strivers, who we’ll consider in a future posting, in that the Striver has something to prove, some feeling of inadequacy to overcome by amassing wealth and power. Juice Junkies have no sense of inadequacy – indeed, they consider themselves vastly more adequate than all others – and thus are more at peace with the world.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style=""><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="">But they still need to feed that craving for danger, the urge to put it all out there on the line, to saunter up to the God of Fate, chuck the old bugger on the chin, and say, “Catch me if you can.” Five hours later the Juice Junky is draining the last dregs of someone else’s flask as the few survivors of the day’s final chase are heading back to the trailers. Everyone else, including the God of Fate, packed it in two hours earlier and is already home nursing sore muscles in the hot tub.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><span style="font-family:times new roman;"> </span><span style="font-family:times new roman;">
<br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Juice Junkies are skewed toward a male demographic but not exclusively so. There are plenty of gals (“ladies” may be an inappropriate appellation here) with an equal need for the sensual thrill of sitting astride a writhing mass of sinew for a bone rattling, teeth jarring, out of control, rollicking roll. And the longer it lasts the better.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; line-height: 150%;"> <meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0/clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>4</o:Words> <o:characters>23</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>1</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>1</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>28</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Tahoma; panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; mso-font-alt:Palatino; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-536870009 1073741843 0 0 415 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><span style="font-size:85%;">© 2010, J. Harris Anderson</span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->
<br /><span style=";font-family:";" ><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span><o:p></o:p></span><p></p> <!--EndFragment--> J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5344703366484996932.post-30968312852867315582010-06-24T17:09:00.000-04:002010-06-25T18:03:10.473-04:00A Typology of Foxhunters, Part 1: Nouveau Gentry<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ce22slmgWkY693Ow4A9iU9-NkkhKUf_gHCeE2nwqd1XI1rw3nxEQPjja-TEXyXDzqqiwqmlW5GAf2nL-7rPVIxYIeWbWmfra-CNmit0qQkU5ajtlF4blI5saiN0ZvMMk2vOBuvrY0RCV/s1600/youbeenfarminglong.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ce22slmgWkY693Ow4A9iU9-NkkhKUf_gHCeE2nwqd1XI1rw3nxEQPjja-TEXyXDzqqiwqmlW5GAf2nL-7rPVIxYIeWbWmfra-CNmit0qQkU5ajtlF4blI5saiN0ZvMMk2vOBuvrY0RCV/s320/youbeenfarminglong.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486098691649042514" border="0" /></a>
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98nOf3fL0s0RsxZ1K9UJuyGeVQ3hWk0wR7jQaYgvGstXl9alOLDYWvHEr5ZmE67V5LaujtYl90biHPfMyUDQznEVTCgPzcY4tUCmocyhKVy91T-4ZXbwGy-_kUI0hGA7EvrmPH1ObJkQF/s1600/John+Opening+Day+06.jpg">
<br /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">"O wad some Power the giftie gie us</span>
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">To see oursels as ithers see us!"</span>
<br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-style: italic;">To A Louse</span>
<br /> Robert Burns
<br /></div>
<br /><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0/clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>125</o:Words> <o:characters>717</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>5</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>1</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>880</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Palatino; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">For </span><span style="font-family:Palatino;">much of the past several years a principal focus of my life has been chasing foxes around the Virginia countryside. During that time, I've noticed several clearly definable archetypes that make up the community of fellow foxhunters. I have identified these classic characters as: </span><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><b><span style="color:black;">Nouveau Gentry, Juice Junkies, Falstaffs, False Staffs, </span></b></span><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><b><span style="color:black;">Saddle Tramps, </span></b></span><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><b><span style="color:black;">Strivers, Posers, Hodads, Hunters Emeriti, and Chasers.</span></b>
<br />
<br />If you've spent any time among those who follow hounds, you will no doubt recognize clearly identifiable personages within this typology. You might also see yourself depicted in one or more categories. To that end, I offer this caveat up front, borrowing a theme from Robert Burns:
<br /></span><span style=";font-family:Palatino;font-size:10pt;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt; font-style: italic;" align="center"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">I pray no power the giftie gie them<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt; font-style: italic;" align="center"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">To see themselves as I do see them.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt; font-style: italic;" align="center"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">May readers sing the praise that’s due me,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;"><span style="font-style: italic;">But none get pissed and try to sue me.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt;">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18pt;"><span style="font-family:Palatino;">We begin with...<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 18pt;" align="center"><b><span style=";font-family:Palatino;font-size:16pt;" >Nouveau Gentry
<br /></span></b></p> <!--EndFragment--> <meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/johnanderson/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0/clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>376</o:Words> <o:characters>2148</o:Characters> <o:company>Harvest Resources</o:Company> <o:lines>17</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>4</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>2637</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Tahoma; 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panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Palatino Linotype"; mso-font-alt:Palatino; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-536870009 1073741843 0 0 415 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Hard work and not a little luck have paid off. The derivatives were sold for an exorbitant amount just before the bubble burst. So what to do now with all those millions? Move to the country and live the life of one “to the manor born” (even if you grew up in a dreary suburb of Dumpsville, USA). Buy some land and build a house. Those old historic places make lovely B&Bs but, my goodness, all the upkeep: decrepit plumbing, leaky roofs, unsound wiring, drafty windows, rotting joists. So what if the house once served as Robert E. Lee’s headquarters? Or if an original copy of the Declaration of Independence, in Jefferson’s own hand, was found in the cellar? Who needs all that hassle? Just build a new place next door with all the modern conveniences. After all, if you have no history, why should you care about anyone else’s?<o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left; font-family: times new roman;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">But this foxhunting thing…now that looks pretty cool. Say, honey, let’s buy a couple of horses, take some lessons, and give it a try.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left; font-family: times new roman;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">This is the wife speaking. And the husband may go along without much complaint, until hunting days start to interfere with his golfing schedule, or after he realizes there’s a lot of hard work, dirt, discomfort, and danger involved. <o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left; font-family: times new roman;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">She continues on though, taking lessons religiously, going through several trainers in hopes of finding one who understands her and teaches the way she needs to be taught. (Read: Trainers keep giving up on her because she won’t, or can’t, do what they tell her. Instead, she reads voraciously about riding technique, argues with the professional instructors over how things should be done, and makes excuses for her own inability to execute even the most basic movements. Then she wonders why the trainer suddenly has scheduling conflicts and can’t keep her on as a student.)<o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left; font-family: times new roman;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The good thing about foxhunting, however, is that you don’t need much technique. And Mrs. Nouveau Gentry will be found riding in the non-jumping field where the standard of performance is even lower. She’ll go through a few horses that are strikingly handsome and way too much for her to handle before she settles for a chunky gelding, something of the draft cross type, who has the patience to accept her jerking hands on the reins and her slapping ass in the saddle without pitching her off. What he lacks in flashy style he makes up for in solid dependability (not a bad trade off in either a horse or man). <o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left; font-family: times new roman;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">She also finds that involvement in the hunt lends a structure and focus to her newly gentrified lifestyle. She serves with enthusiasm on various committees, organizing social events, fundraisers, the hunt ball, and the point-to-point races. She takes the lead in putting together a booklet of tailgate recipes submitted by the ladies of the hunt. <o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left; font-family: times new roman;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Meanwhile, the hubby, although tempted, refrains from carting off all his riding attire to the local tack shop for consignment sale. Instead, he concedes to hop on a horse once in awhile and join the missus in the hunt field. That he can do so without benefit of hundreds of hours of lessons and still have a good time is a prickling source of irritation to his lovely wife.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: left; font-family: times new roman;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> </span>
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Neither is likely to continue foxhunting much beyond middle age. They do not have the stamina, sturdiness, or ingrained muscle-memory of those who actually were “to the </span><i style="font-family: times new roman;">manner</i><span style="font-family:times new roman;"> born,” those who could lapse into a coma and still sit upright on a horse. Instead, they’ll tire of horses and country living, sell their house and land to the next round of the newly wealthy, and move to an adult community where the living is easy and the golf course is right next door. Among the stuff hauled from their basement, loaded onto the moving van, and never again to see the light of day, is a box of two hundred tailgate recipe booklets.</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <!--EndFragment--> <!--EndFragment--> J. Harris Andersonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04646682105006965381noreply@blogger.com3