I think I might have met Sarah Palin once. It was not Palin, of course, but the similarities between the dope I met 20 years ago at Columbia Horse Center and Sarah Palin are too cogent to ignore.When I met her, the Faux-Palin had just bought a horse. The horse was too tough for her to handle, too strong, too young and untrained.
I was, at the time, an adult beginner. I was avid. I had found the best possible trainer, an Iranian man who is still my friend, who taught there. Generously, I might add, giving his students enormous benefit of his extraordinary knowledge and skill.
His generosity allowed him to let Faux-Palin, riding her new horse, enter the arena where he was teaching me. Ordinarily, a private lesson was a private lesson and no one else could use that arena--there were two others--until the private lesson was over. Faux-Palin had a crush on my instructor. Few women didn't, myself included. So she wheedled, and she won.
Before long, her horse got out of control, which frightened the school horse I was on. My horse, reacting, twirled suddenly on the way to a jump and launched me high and fast and hard through the air. I was powerless to stop it or to stay on; I was too new at the sport, had little experience, and had not yet developed much sticking power, all of which requires time and attention, and good lessons.
I landed on one hip with both heels dug into the footing, and both hands out behind stopping my head from hitting the ground.
My instructor ran to me, and told me to check out all the parts. I found that one elbow was jammed. I told him to take my hand, put his foot against my shoulder and pull my arm hard. He reluctantly did it, and I heard everything pop back into place. I don't know why I thought to do that. I just wish I had thought to keep Faux-Palin out of my lesson. As it was, my worst injuries were two sprained wrists and a mashed sciatic nerve, all of which healed themselves over the next month. Far sooner, I think than the country could heal itself after a round in the arena with Sarah Palin.
Faux-Palin, a vapid, selfish, and ignorant young woman to say the best of her, had a vanity plate on her car. It said MsPrez, because this airhead had decided to go to law school and become the first female president.
She'd be about 42 now, so she could be mistaken for the real Palin if Tina Fey hadn't already done such a darn good job of it.
I'm thinking maybe there's a monkey brain that is parceled out by whatever god there is and installed behind the unfinished faces of lower-class women with grandiose ideas and nothing--such as intelligence and/or experience--to back those ideas up.
MsPrez ended up selling the horse. It remained too much for her because she refused to actually take a lesson from someone who knew something about horses. She preferred to pose and be coquettish, just like Sarah Palin. She hurt people with her ignorance. She ruined a horse, a valuable animal, and a kind one in general, with her despicable overweening arrogance and pride.
Just like Sarah Palin.
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