Category: Non-fiction

Posted in Non-fiction

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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Do you believe in magic in love? That is what “smoke” refers to in the old Platters song, actually recorded in 1933. There is discussion about that interpretation, of course. But, smoke getting in your eyes, in a love song, seems pretty clear to me. Let’s dig a little deeper.

First, my own bias. I do believe in magic in love – still. I think it’s rare. I don’t think most of us will ever find it. I think those of us who do find it better hold on to it tightly as we likely will not ever find it again. I think it is the reason that romance novels and romantic erotica is the most popular genre of fiction. We seek to read about people, even fictional people, who either have found that magic or who are seeking it. Look at the book series beginning with 50 Shades of Gray. That book is actually in the genre of romantic erotica as there is love present. It is not pornography. I’m not a fan of 50 Shades because I don’t think it is well-written but it has certainly shown what our society is looking for.

We are looking for the magic in love. We want to find that perfect relationship where you have love between two people – compatibility in love – but you also have to have compatibility in sex. Novels like 50 Shades have shown us that if nothing else. Perfect compatibility in love and in sex is incredibly hard to find. Unless you do find this magic, you are going to be unhappy in some aspects of your relationship.

Here are the lyrics of the Platters song, “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes:”

They asked me how I knew
My true love was true
I of course replied
Something here inside cannot be denied
They said “someday you’ll find all who love are blind”
When your heart’s on fire,
You must realize, smoke gets in your eyes

So I chaffed them and I gaily laughed
To think they could doubt my love
Yet today my love has flown away,
I am without my love (without my love)

Now laughing friends deride
Tears I cannot hide
So I smile and say
When a lovely flame dies, smoke gets in your eyes

(Smoke gets in your eyes, smoke gets in your eyes)

Smoke gets in your eyes

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In the first stanza of the song, one line says that all who love are blind. That may be true for very young people but as you mature, I think you can love and see the faults of your true love. Two mature people can work on problems in their relationship but there is one thing they cannot work on. The magic. The magic, the chemistry, between two people is either there or it’s not. If it’s not, there isn’t anything you can do to make it happen. In this writer’s opinion, the magic causes the smoke to get in your eyes, but it does not completely blind you. The magic includes both sexual chemistry and the chemistry you feel from deep, emotional love. You can’t have a complete relationship without both.

The next stanza of the song refers to smoke in a different way. The true love has gone, left, deserted the other person. But, that does not necessarily mean that the love has died. It is a very sad situation for the person left behind and then, smoke gets in your eyes because you cannot hide your tears. The smoke causes you to cry because your true love is no longer with you. Perhaps there were circumstances that caused your true love to leave. I am of the opinion that if you find the magic, the true chemistry I have mentioned, it never goes away, whether you are together or not.

Don’t let the smoke blind you to something wonderful. Try to learn to recognize what is real and magical and what is not. #romance #lovesongs #love #dailyprompt #amwriting #amblogging #writing

20th Century Masters – The Millennium Series: The Best of The Platters (Remastered) by The Platters
Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

Posted in Non-fiction

Today’s Blog Prompt – Realize Hurricane Matthew

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

Do you know what I realize today? I realize that those of us in the Eastern United States, who are physically able and have some skills, need to prepare to go to Florida and South Carolina after Hurricane Matthew is over and the authorities call for volunteers. This is a hurricane like no other that has ever hit east central Florida.

It is a Category 4 taking a dead eye on beautiful Daytona Beach, Florida. It is also going to scrap Florida from Miami Beach up through Vero Beach. It is also going to threaten inland Florida and on up into coastal Georgia and South Carolina. Please consider going to help out if you possible can. Contact the Salvation Army or any other volunteer organization that will be making trips to the area. Thank you. #dailyprompt #weather #HurricaneMatthew #amwriting #amblogging #writing

Posted in Non-fiction

The Lone Oak

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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I became acquainted with the old bur oak tree near downtown Lexington, Kentucky, not as a child, but as a very young adult. It was something of a Lexington landmark and I think it deserves a story. Its own place in history. No doubt, according to the tree specialists, it had at least a couple of centuries of stories to tell since Lexington was settled in June of 1775 and this ancient tree was at least that old.
The bur oak was located right off Lafayette Parkway leading up to Lafayette High School. Barely out of our teens, my husband and I were hunting for our first house and our realtor showed us a rather decrepit small home with this magnificent tree in the backyard. I don’t know if we bought the house because of the house or because of the tree. It was astonishing. Spreading my arms as wide as I could, I still could not embrace its diameter.
I don’t know how tall it was but it was too tall for tree specialists to even contemplate taking it down back in the 1970s. Bur oaks often grow 200-300 feet tall. It was many feet in circumference. It shaded our entire home in the summer with its big, brawny limbs. Every other fall, it produced the most interesting acorns and gallons of them. These trees produce the largest acorns of any oak tree and they often were the preferred food for bears, harkening back to another time in the history of the place where Lexington began.

Besides enjoying the fact that this special tree was in our newly-acquired back yard, it provided a conversation starting point with our neighbors on the aptly-named Lone Oak Street. Our neighbors were a couple old enough to be our grandparents and well-known Lexington residents, Fred and Lois Flege. We bonded over that tree. They took to us and we to them and they became like our family.
We lived on that street and under that tree, with the Flege’s as our neighbors, for many years. The tree developed dead limbs that we had to prune but we could bear to do no more than that. It was an important touchstone for us and for the Flege’s.
Shortly after we sold our house, the new owner took down the big tree. It had become dangerous. That tree will forever be a part of our memories of our early life in Lexington with our beloved neighbors, the Flege’s.
Years later, I moved to the town where I taught at the university and one day, I found a bur oak acorn in my front yard. There are no bur oak trees that I know of in this part of the Daniel Boone National Forest. I planted it. Maybe someday, long after I am gone, there will be another majestic bur oak tree in what used to be my yard. One of our best memories will always be the big bur oak tree standing in the middle of Lexington. #amwriting #amblogging #writing

 

Posted in Non-fiction

Remembering: My Friend and Jamaica’s Fern Valley

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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Around 15 years ago, I did a lot of traveling with a good friend. We saw so many wonderful places. I feel like we went around the world together and I feel a lot of nostalgia about these trips. I remember each and every one. We spent much time on the island of Jamaica as my friend had business there. His home base for business was Kingston, the capital of Jamaica. Kingston is not exactly a tourist spot. That is probably an understatement. But, we used it as a jumping off point for some wonderful adventures on that beautiful island. Allow me to tell you about one of those adventures.

Above Kingston lies Jamaica’s Blue Mountains. You can look down from them and see Kingston. You can drive from Kingston, where you endure sweltering heat, to the relative cool of the Blue Mountains, though the humidity is high. The city of Kingston has temperatures, even in the fall of the year, in the 80s and 90s, as Jamaica really has no seasons. Then, you drive up one of the steepest gradients to be found to get up the Blue Mountains where the day time temperatures drop to the low 70s and 50s at night. Their peaks rise and fall for about 24 miles.

In the fall of the year, when I was often in Jamaica with my friend, there was rain in the Blue Mountains – from 9 – 15 inches per month. A tropical climate.

We took many drives in the Blue Mountains but there is one in particular that I’m feeling particularly nostalgic about. We drove from Kingston over the Blue Mountains and eventually arrived at Ocho Rios, Jamaica.

The Blue Mountains are something to see all by themselves and my friend was a wonderful tour guide as he had spent much time in Jamaica. The Blue Mountains are full of coffee plantations, something I had never seen and which fascinated me. But, what was most thrilling were the tall trees that made the road almost dark. Speaking of the road, it was just almost a road. The road over the Blue Mountains is notoriously bad. Every sort of tropical tree imaginable was in the forest and banana trees lined the road along with vendors selling all sorts of delicious tropical fruit. There are over 500 species of plant life on the Blue Mountains.

Then we came to the most beautiful site of all. Jamaica’s Fern Valley. The ferns were so prolific it was like they were piled on top of each other for miles. It made for a very romantic setting! Driving through Fern Valley is something you never forget. I wanted to stay there forever.

We then arrived in Ocho Rios and decided to do a touristy thing which was climb Dunns River Falls. It is a natural waterfall with naturally terraced steps. At this spot, the Battle of Las Chorreras was fought in 1657 when the English defeated the Spanish Expeditionary Force from Cuba.

In modern times, Dunns River Falls has been used in the 1988 film, Cocktail, starring Tom Cruise, and the first James Bond movie in 1962, Dr. No, starring Sean Connery.

After that climb, we were hungry and ate dinner at the most wonderful Indian restaurant in Ocho Rios. When we do Nostalgia again, I will tell you about the trip back to Kingston over the Blue Mountains – at night! #amwriting #amblogging #writing #Jamaica #DunnsRiverFalls #BlueMountains #nostalgia

Posted in Non-fiction

Trust in a Relationship

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

 

Do you have trust in your relationships? In all of your relationships – with your partner, your family, your friends, your colleagues? Trust is the foundation of any relationship. In fact, without trust, your relationship is unfinished. Without trust, you have no relationship. Perhaps the most important trust relationship is that with your partner, whoever that partner may be. A spouse, a partner, a lover. If you can’t trust that most important person in your life, there is not only no relationship, you need to re-evaluate whatever it is that you think you have. Yes, I realize that is a hard line. I have reasons to take a hard line on this issue. Now let’s talk about trust.

When trust is mentioned between partners, faithfulness immediately comes to mind. Faithfulness, believe it or not, is not the most important trust issue. There is a more fundamental trust that should exist between partners that comes before faithfulness. If partners have that much more fundamental trust, faithfulness ceases to be an issue.  What am I talking about?

What does the term “true intentions” mean? True intentions mean the real, heartfelt feelings of each partner in the relationship. Those true intentions should be shared between the two partners. If the partners are “in love,” those are true intentions whether or not the relationship ever comes to fruition in the form of marriage or long-term commitment. If the partners intend to carry on with their relationship for the long-term in any form and communicate that to each other, those are true intentions. If the partners intend to be open and honest with each other in the relationship, those are true intentions.

This is where trust comes in. Partners have to trust each other’s true intentions. If they feel, based on each other’s behavior, that they can trust each other, the relationship has a chance to become satisfying and fulfilling to both partners.

Unfortunately, life isn’t always this simple and people certainly are not. What if one partner has intentions that are not so true and well-meaning? What if one partner has an “agenda” that the other partner has no way of knowing? The other partner may develop trust in the offending partner because they do not have full information. Not only does the non-offending partner develop trust in the other partner, but that partner is also trustworthy and the offending partner can, indeed, trust them. What, then, will happen to the relationship?

In effect, the offending partner is lying to the other partner and the relationship has no chance of becoming fulfilling and satisfying for either partner. It could flourish in the short-term, as long as the offending partner can maintain the fiction.

Here is another possible scenario. Perhaps one partner gets involved in a relationship and, somewhere along the way, that partner changes their true intentions. Those intentions become less than true, even totally false. They become something else and then that partner develops an agenda during an already established relationship. Chances are, the other partner is involved even deeper in the love relationship and is even more trusting at that point. It may be harder than ever for the other partner to discern whether or not the offending partner is still true in their intentions. What will happen in this case?

Either the first or second scenarios are not good. There is one partner lying to the other about their true intentions. The other partner, trusting the first one, is very vulnerable in both scenarios to being hurt and terribly disappointed. It won’t take very long in either scenario for cracks to appear in the relationship as the trusting partner starts to pick up clues that all is not well. They will realize that there are inconsistencies and lies popping up in the relationship. It will become a very painful thing for the trusting partner.

When the true intentions of the offending partner finally become apparent and they are not what was originally related to the trusting partner, the relationship will likely break apart. Can relationships like this be saved? In my opinion, probably not. If the offending partner had been willing to establish open communication with the other partner early on, then the relationship would never have gotten to this point. But, the trust has been broken and it is incredibly hard to get back. The offending partner may have fulfilled their agenda and may not even want to continue on with the relationship. The trusting partner will feel like everything was a lie and also may not want the relationship.

The most beautiful and success relationships between partners are those where there is open communication and each partner knows and accepts the other’s true intentions. True intentions lead to trust. Open communication and complete, uninhibited trust is the recipe for a successful love relationship. Those things don’t come easy and both partners have to be totally honest with the other and really work at it. In this writer’s opinion, this is the only way to have a satisfying and fulfilling love relationship. #amwriting #amblogging #writing #AllAboutRomance

 

Posted in Non-fiction

2016 Presidential Election

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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I hate the U.S. news media. I’m not sure it would be better in any other nation, but in the U.S., you only hear what the powers that be at the major news organizations want you to hear. I did not intend to watch the Democrat and Republican party’s conventions last week and this, but, like so many others, I got sucked in. I’ve been horrified at the Republican nominee for President of the U.S.  I thought Donald Trump gave one of the worst acceptance speeches I’ve ever heard. I can remember back to the acceptance speech given by John F. Kennedy, though it’s vague as I was a tiny girl.

This post is not about Donald Trump. It is about the failure of the U.S. news media to inform the American public. The Democratic National Convention is coming to a close with Hillary Clinton the nominee for President. As I have watched the convention, I have become aware that the news media has been virtually unstoppable at                eviscerating Clinton, focusing on her mistakes and none of her considerable accomplishments.

I have not been a Clinton fan. I have been a real detractor of Donald Trump. For the first time ever, I’ve considered not voting in this very important election. Listening to the convention speakers last night, without the filter of the news media, I did not exactly become a Clinton fan but I became convinced she is, far and away, the best candidate of the two running for President.

Has the news media ever shared Clinton’s accomplishments with us? They are too busy repeating the mistakes she has made – over and over. By listening to the speakers last night and ignoring the talking heads of the media, I got to hear of Clinton’s accomplishments and they are legion. As first lady of both Arkansas and the United States, Senator from New York, and Secretary of State, she has touched our policies in many ways, most of them quite positive. She has touched the hearts and minds of children all over the world, her mission as First Lady. She tends to have a personal touch with people. The type of thing not newsworthy enough for the news media to bother with it. The average American who has contact with Clinton on the street loves her and sings her praises. Her Democratic colleagues, at least, sing her praises.

Hillary Clinton is not good at singing her own praises or advancing her own causes. She is not a braggart like our friend, the Republican nominee. I was impressed with what I heard from those who know her best, personally and professionally.

Most of all, her colleagues discussed her vast knowledge of the U.S. Government and its innermost workings. Does Donald Trump have this knowledge? No. I’ve decided that I’m with Hillary, warts and all. Of course, it helps that she has shattered that largest of glass ceilings, but that isn’t the reason. She knows more than he knows. Down deep, where it counts, she is a better person than he is. That has won me over in the end. #amwriting #blogging #writing #PresidentialUSA #dailyprompt

 

Posted in Non-fiction

My Mother’s German Clock

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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My mother was a hard, cold woman. There is no need to sugar coat it, though I hate to say it. That was, quite simply. her personality. That doesn’t mean I didn’t love her. I did. I just didn’t like her very much most of the time. I spent my life, or perhaps her life, trying to please her. I don’t need all my ten fingers to count the times I heard her laugh in the 48 years she lived while I was alive. I don’t remember what her face looked like when she smiled. She smiled so seldom.

My mother was depressed. Perhaps clinically depressed but, back then, those diagnoses were seldom made so who really knows what was wrong. But, her problems are only tangential to this story. The story of my mother’s German clock.

My mother loved her brothers and sisters almost desperately. She never really separated from that family and embraced my dad and I. One brother, my Uncle Tincy, was particularly special. They were close in age and grew up together. I think separating from him when he left home to join the Air Force broke her heart.

My mother and my uncle always stayed in close touch. His family, including his three children – my cousins, were always close to me. When they would come “home” from being stationed at one Air Force Base and before moving to another, they would often stay with us during the move. My mother cherished every day she got to spend with her brother and with his family. It was during those times that she seemed happiest.

Uncle Tincy was stationed, at one point, in Germany. Before he left Germany, he sent just about all of his siblings a beautiful German clock. I was grown up by then and had left home, but I will never forget when I came for a visit and my mother had received her clock from her brother. For once in her life, she was glowing as she showed me her clock, hanging in a place of honor on the wall. To her, it was not only beautiful, but a symbol of her brother’s love.

Later in both of our lives, my dad passed away and my mother had to live with me because she was very ill. Of course, the German clock from my Uncle Tincy came with her and hung in a place of honor on a wall of my home. Every day, my mother dusted and polished it. She made sure it was wound properly, right up until a couple of days before she died. It made her happy as almost nothing did.

Today, sixteen years after my mother’s death, the German clock still hangs in a place of honor in my home. It has been taken to the clockmaker, cleaned, repaired, and runs  like new. Mom would be proud. I’ve taken over the task of cleaning and polishing it. It keeps perfect time. When I look at it, I think of my mother, with whom I had a strained relationship and who was so unhappy most of the time. I think of my wonderful Uncle Tincy who could perform some sort of magic to make her happy. I remember how she smiled when she looked at that clock. Now, I smile, with a tear in my eye, as I remember what a beautiful German clock did for my mother all those years ago. #amwriting #writing #blogging #depression #dailyprompt

Posted in Creative Nonfiction Essays, Non-fiction

Terrorism and the American Spirit

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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The American society is losing its ability to be carefree. When I talk to most of my friends, they express great prudence and caution when they speak of things they would like to do. Events that involve a crowd, for example. Many, perhaps most, of my friends won’t even think of attending an event, indoors or out, where they would be in a crowd. Some of my friends won’t fly the friendly skies anymore. More of my family and friends won’t even consider visiting a large city now. All of these things represent a major shift in the culture of America.

Americans were never afraid to do any of these things. They were all part of our lives. What changed? I think the change began on 9/11/2001 when terrorists knocked down the Twin Towers in New York City. About three months after that, I flew to Europe several times and the big Air France and Delta planes I was on were practically empty.

I have friends who won’t go to their favorite sporting events…..football and basketball games, because they are in big arenas. I am a fan of a particular college basketball team. If I could get tickets to games played by that team, I would go. The arena seats 24,000 people. Terrorism be damned.

Last summer, I was in Boston on the 4th of July. We considered going to hear the Boston Pops with a crowd of hundreds of thousands of people. We didn’t. Partly because of the traffic. Partly because of the remembrance of the bombing of the Boston Marathon. Terroism won the day.

Lots of people won’t go to concerts now and listen to their favorite music live and in person. They fear that such a large crowd in an indoor or outdoor arena is ripe for terrorism. Perhaps. My friend and I have a concert schedule for the summer and fall and we are going to several concerts we know we will enjoy. Terrorism be damned.

The American people are scared. There are crazy people who want to kill us. Why? There are many theories. Some say that it is because we have interfered in their wars. That may be part of it. I have another theory. Because of the way of life and culture of the people who say they want to kill Americans, they have not been as prosperous as the U.S. has. They haven’t been invited to the economic party. They hate us for our prosperity.

We can’t let them win. We can’t hide in our homes. We must go on with our lives. We have to take ahold of the American spirit and way if we are carefree again. #amwriting #writing #blogging #terrorism #dailyprompt

 

Posted in Non-fiction

The Deer on my Porch

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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When I first moved to my home, 18 years ago now, I lived on a gravel, country road in a rural county in my state and my house was the only occupied house on the road. Life had been tough for me over the preceding few years and I needed to retreat, regroup, heal. I was also moving closer to my work after many long years of commuting. I loved it here. After being a city girl for 25 years, it was a restful sanctuary. My little cabin in the woods.

You see, I live right in the middle of the forest. Or I did. That part of the story comes later. There are still lots of very tall, probably second or third growth trees, mostly hardwood, around me. This area is known as “the hardwood capital of the world.” It is green, very green, dense, and beautiful. Most of all, it was private. I needed private. Most days, it seemed there was only me — and the wildlife. Beautiful birds. butterfly’s, one species which only lives on the particular mountain where I reside. Lots of whitetail deer.

My state is considered the number one state, at least by many hunting websites, in which to hunt whitetail deer. I’m not a hunter so that is mildly disturbing to me. I do understand, however, the need to reduce the herd from time to time. As far as the population of the whitetail deer is concerned, this state is always in the top ten.

In the early days of my residence at my home, you could certainly tell that was true. I saw deer every day, a thrill for me. At first, they were skittish. I got the feeling they felt like I was encroaching, which, of course, I was. It is, after all, their land. So I bought some deer corn, cheap in those days, and put it out on the ground. They came to eat their corn and acted only mildly suspicious of me as I peered at them out the window. As time passed, I learned to tell the difference between the does and the bucks and learned that the little fawns showed up for their deer corn around June. The deer learned they were safe here and came every morning and evening. I made their deer feeding station a little more friendly for them. I added a real feeding trough, made by my cousin-in-law, and a salt block. I think the deer felt right at home. So did I. One of the highlights of my day was watching them.

That was then and this is now. I don’t have quite as many deer at the feeding trough as I used to. More houses have been built on the now-paved county road which means more people, more cars, but the deer still come. Until today. Today, I found out that the lot that adjoins my lot, right by their feeding trough, is going to be stripped of its trees and a house is going to be built 15 feet from my property line and right next to their food. When that happens, I will lose my deer. My friends for 18 years.

To me, this is a sign. It is time to move on if this happens. If that house is indeed built,  it may be time for this writer to find another sanctuary. The quiet will be gone. The deer will be gone. All the things I moved here for will be gone. It would be masochistic to stay.

So, I will wait a bit and determine if that offending house is going to be built. If so, I may start looking for yet another sanctuary. Writer’s need a retreat. The next one probably won’t be in the woods and there probably won’t be deer. But, I intend to find a special one.

Oh yes. The title of this post. “The Deer on the Porch.” One morning I was getting ready for work and I heard someone (I thought) clopping around on my front porch. I went to see who was at the door. It was a whole host of deer, walking around on my porch and one of them was peering in the glass!

They call the development of lots in a subdivision, even a rural one like mine, “progress.” Is it progress? It doesn’t feel like progress to me tonight. It feels like possibly having to leave home and leave my friends behind. It feels like I am at the mercy of a ruthless land developer who cares nothing about people or places or wildlife or life in general, but just money. It feels like that particular ruthless developer, when he chose the lot on which he was going to build, knew I would value my privacy enough to consider buying the lot from him rather than letting him build and he is price-gouging me. In coarser language, it’s called extortion.

This writer is a survivor and I have survived worse. This particular ruthless developer built my own house and I spent lots of money and time getting it fixed due to shoddy workmanship and the fact he didn’t pay all the subcontractors and walked off the job before it was completed. Not everything is fixed….even after 18 years. So, I have issues  with this particular ruthless developer. If he continues his planned project on the lot next door and without giving me adequate time to raise the cash I need to buy the lot or negotiating a reasonable offer, then I will have more issues with the ruthless developer. The house he will build will likely have workmanship as shoddy as my house did, before it was repaired. I wonder if anyone will buy it?

I am not going to be at the mercy of anyone, even a ruthless land developer. Just remember. There is always something you can do to help your circumstances. And I am going to do it. Progress? Perhaps I can keep my sanctuary here on the road in the woods and won’t have to look for another one. I hope my deer on the porch will remain on the porch. Stay tuned!

*Image copyright 2016 Rosemary Carlson

Posted in Non-fiction

Kentucky Derby Week: American Pharoah

Posted on by R.M. Carlson

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It’s Kentucky Derby week! The Week of the Horse. Even though some say horse racing is on the wane, you would never know it this week. In fact, you would never know it in Kentucky at all. Kentucky is the thoroughbred horse capital of the world though others try, on occasion, to steal that claim to fame. They have never succeeded! Particularly not after the 2015 Kentucky Derby. America and, perhaps the world, fell in love with a plain brown colt named American Pharoah. Even his name was misspelled! But Pharoah didn’t let that or anything else stop him. He won the Kentucky Derby, and then the Triple Crown coupled with the Breeder’s Cup Classic. He was the first Triple Crown winner since 1978 when Affirmed won it and the first Grand Slam winner ever…….the Grand Slam being all four races.

What is so special about this brown colt, born and bred in Kentucky? Some horses are just special. Secretariat was special, like Seattle Slew and Man ‘O War were special. Pharoah has a gentle temperament. Thoroughbred horses are known for many things but a gentle temperament is not one of them. Instead, many are temperamental and nervous. Pharoah loves his adoring public and during his racing seasons, and now while he is standing at stud, his public goes to visit him in hordes.

Something else special about American Pharoah. For over 40 years, horse racing has been trying to find another Secretariat, that very special big red horse that won the Triple Crown and broke all speed records. Secretariat certainly posted a faster time in the Belmont Stakes than Pharoah, but unbelievably, Pharoah actually accelerated in the final quarter mile of the Belmont, won the race going away, and beat Secretariat’s quarter mile time by 0.68 of a second.

I personally know Pharoah loves his tribe because I am one of them and I have visited Pharoah at his home at Ashford Stud near Versailles, KY. He poses for the crowds, tall and proud. He is not a bit nervous but very calm. When you get close to him, he has a kind, quiet look in his eyes and he meets your gaze lovingly. He does not shy away. They say that now, even during his breeding season, he is still our calm, sweet Pharoah even while getting at least 80 mares in foal. I can’t wait for his first foal.

In some ways, American Pharoah revived horse racing. He retired to stud with a record of 9-1-0. Not only does he have a breeding career ahead of him, you can’t turn around in Kentucky without seeing someone wearing some piece of American Pharoah merchandise……a jacket, a cap, or something.

They say he loves to go out in his paddock in the mornings before his breeding and public visiting sessions and have a run and a good roll in the mud. Just once, I would like to climb over that paddock fence onto his back, go for that run with him, feel his powerful muscles, and see the world through those big brown eyes. #anericanpharoah #kentuckyderby #triplecrown