Because Dave is a seriously funny writer and because nothing is more funny than poking fun at Dave's brother Mark...

Flashback. Folks, let's go back in time about five years ago. It's a perfect summer day at the Thatcher Farm. Mark decides he'd like to showoff for all of his visiting high school friends by riding our family's old mustang named BLUE.

Mark wanted me to help him mount this somewhat wild and at times devious Mustang.
My reply, "Mark if you can't get on that horse alone, you have no business on him". Mark begins to mount up, one stirrup, then the next. To his amazement all is well and Blue is somewhat calm. Blue then flashes me a sly grin and gives just a little tiny kick. Mark's cowboy heritage readily handles this, but both participants (cowboy and pony) have their anxious ears go straight up.

Old Blue then digs a little deeper and this time gives a ONE, TWO kick out the back end. Mark's interpretation of this ONE, TWO kick is the equivalent of Blue saying "Stickem Up Cowboy". I regret to admit that Mark's cowboy heritage at this point crumbles as he drops the reins, throws his hands up and says "Okay Blue, you got me".

But on this perfect summer day with all the family and Mark's high school friends all watching, Blue let the Thatcher Coliseum crowd push him to the next level. With absolute precision, this pony launched his cowboy so high up in the air that he landed behind the saddle on Blue's massive hips. Hands in the air, Mark was now perched helpless on Blue's backside hoping desperately that Blue was done with the show.

But Blue had just staged the final act with his rider in a perfectly leveraged position. With power surging from all corners of this old Mustang, he launches the 230 pound mass straight into the air. Suspended in air for what seemed to be a Matrix slow-mo film clip, Mark soared and Blue side stepped, then turned his head to watch the train wreak with the rest of the Coliseum crowd. Seven feet to five feet, the earth groaned, four feet to three feet, mother gasps, two feet to one foot, friends began to laugh and THUD. The thud felt around the world.

Wind knocked out of his lungs and struggling for breath he finally fills the bags and yells, "Dave, you broke my hip!"

Friends now concerned that laughing may not be appropriate, plug their noses and run for an open car to release the explosion of laughter as the doors close.

I rushed to my brothers side as he continued to yell in short bursts of four letter words, I no longer saw Mark in my mind, but in his stead our 65-year old, retarded Aunt Sharon who had just had a hip replacement. I knew this could not be good--hip replacement at 28. Not good at all, BUT the Thatcher Coliseum was fed well that beautiful summer day.

And Blue, well I jumped on him and rode him out to pasture. It wasn't easy but someone had to do it.