Giddy UpPosted: November 4, 2014 Filed under: Thought For the Day | Tags: Australia's richest horse race, bringing home the bacon, childhood memories, my little ponies, Rolling Stones / Wild Horses, single mother jobs, single mother slavery, The Melbourne Cup, the race that stops a nation, thoroughbred horse races, work Leave a comment
Here I am on the day of the race that stops a nation, dressed in jodhpurs and a top hat, hamming it up for drunk people, most of whom don’t realise this how I earn my living (they just think I’m some kind of kooky lady), as they slam down their drinks. We humans are very strange, we tame wild creatures, then watch them going round and round a track. When I was a young warthog, I went to the races most weekends with my grandpa Aubrey, who was nuts about betting on the gee gees. He would place small bets for me and I always picked the grey horses, probably because of Gunsynd, the Goondiwindi grey, a famous racehorse from the 1970s. Now I’m getting paid to act like a goose on a horse, my grandpa would be so proud.