Manias
My third most absorbing mania is the band Depeche Mode. I have the albums, the shirts, the ticket stubs, the posters, B-sides, and the earrings and the bracelet. However, I’m getting a little too old to think lead singer Dave Gahan is going to sweep me off my feet or anything, though he still looks okay for an exheroin addict.
My second most absorbing mania is the Ford Mustang, especially the 1965 through 1967 Mustangs. I bought my 1965 Mustang GT 17 years ago. I calculated that I had to work about 1,000 hours cleaning stalls and feeding horses to pay for it. The Mustang was a disaster – blue smoke poured out of the exhaust when it started (shot rings), the two mufflers had holes, the wheels were too big, the paint was oxidized, the windows didn’t roll down (it doesn’t have air conditioning), the carpet was rotted, etc., etc. My dad and I had those problems fixed one by one, and I’m still not sick of fixing it up. People sometimes leave notes on my windshield that say if I’m thinking of selling to give them a call. I always throw the notes in the back seat and think it will be a cold day you-know-where when I sell my 1965 Mustang. Also, I still can’t resist reading any automotive magazine that has any Mustang-related article (new or old Mustangs), and I read my Mustang Paddock parts catalog cover to cover and dream of reupholstering someday. If I see an old Mustang in a parking lot somewhere, no matter how battered it may be, I still can't resist walking around it and peeping inside to check it out and see what features it has.
My primary mania, the one that has shaped my entire life, is horses. When I was almost 6 years old, out of nowhere, I developed “horse madness.” For my sixth birthday my parents let me have one riding lesson. For the next five years I shared my madness by asking “Can I have a horse? Can I have a horse? Can I have a horse?” I was relentless. I saved all my allowance money for horse-related books and toys. My entire room was decorated in “horse.” When I was 11, they gave up, signed me up for western riding lessons, and I got my horse. Chief was a massive Appaloosa. He was a chestnut brown with a white blanket on his hips, and he had one blue eye and one brown eye.
A couple of years later, my parents signed me up for English and jumping riding lessons because they were sick of my underachieving in school. They said that they’d pay for lessons if I kept up a B average. Immediately those grades went up to Bs (but went no higher because that wasn’t the deal). I learned very quickly and was jumping higher and faster than I probably should have been. I took a few falls. One at a horseshow was my worst. The big Thoroughbred mare I was riding reared up, lost her balance, and fell over backwards. I felt her lose her balance and tried to throw myself away from her before she hit the ground. She landed on one of my legs, and it was black and blue from the knee down for weeks. If I remember correctly, I lost my parental, riding lesson funding after that.
My own horse Chief had to be retired because of arthritis in both front “ankles.” Still he stayed on at my parents’ house, and I took care of him every day. I worked for a nearby little Arabian horse ranch in the summers until I started having more problems with my back. Eventually, the inevitable happened and Chief died. He was about 25 years old. I was heart broken, and I signed up to take driving lessons for a year at another nearby Arabian ranch. I still was having too many problems to ride, but I got through years of physical therapy because I kept thinking that if I kept at it, I would ride again one day. One day I was well enough and I did ride again, but I think that by the time that happened everyone other than me had given up hope that I ever would ride again.
I’ve been riding again (western and English) for nearly two years now. I’m still building my strength, and I’m scheduled for another round of physical therapy next month, but I continue to get better and better. I’m riding three times a week now to stay in shape and because I’m not getting any younger. If my skills don’t come up to the level I want in the next few years, they might never. So, I find myself back where I was when I was a child, saving up my money for horse-related things, taking riding lessons, and dreaming that maybe one day I’ll have a horse of my own again.
