This all started with Conan O’Brien. Put Conan next to a horse and instant hilarity results. Previous Conan videos feature him dressed as Fabio riding Martha Stewart’s Friesian and starting a race at the Santa Anita track by calling “It’s a pony party.” So when I found a video of Senor F. (reason for alias will shortly become apparent) teaching Conan to play polo, I thought I had won a Trifecta which I could share with my Facebook friends.
At one point in the video, Senor F. asks Conan if he would like to wear a safety helmet. To me the polo helmet has an attractive masculine vibe. It looks like a pith helmet and a football helmet mated while everybody was distracted by the running of the Kentucky Derby. Conan has a different view, “I want to look cool. That is more important than safety.” Upon seeing himself in the polo helmet, he swore “I would rather be killed.” OK, I admit I laughed out loud at his dead pan delivery--as I did multiple times during this video. But research shows that falling off a horse without a helmet is equivalent in force to being hit by a car. If you wear a helmet during a fall, you are five times less likely to have a traumatic brain injury.
I decided not to share that video but I thought all my Facebook friends deserved the opportunity to admire Senor F., whose appearance, frankly, took my breath away. And his equitation skills are world class. Since some of my friends have played around with my Goodwill, bargain polo mallets and my Icelandic horse Blessi, I decided to share that anecdote with a video of Senor F. explaining how to play polo. He promotes polo as a sport that riders can enjoy at multiple levels of expertise. Theodore Roosevelt, President of the United States from 1901 to 1909, agreed, “Polo is a good game, infinitely better for vigorous men than football or golf.” Theodore wrote multiple letters discussing the bitting and conditioning of his polo pony named, believe it or not, Pickles.
Truly it is not part of my public persona to burble, rhapsodize, or rave over the appearance of actors, models, and athletes. OK, that is a lie. I do gush and swoon in my own thoughts. And my girlfriends and I may choose to discuss over glasses of wine the aesthetics of male physiognomy in the film we just viewed. Fortuitously I chose to describe Senor F. as follows: Per a Vanity Fair poll, “X was rated the second most handsome man in the world several years ago---behind Robert Pattinson but ahead of Brad Pitt. Oh, he rides a horse beautifully also.” OK, I gushed via proxy.
So I posted on Facebook and shut down the computer for the night. When I checked Facebook the next morning, Senior F. had not only liked my posting but, much to my surprise, shared it on his Facebook page along with other postings about his family and personal accomplishments. (Senor F. seems like a very nice guy who just happens to be drop dead gorgeous.) And to my utter amazement, his fans shared my posting 14 times--modest exposure for the Icelandic breed in Facebook terms but huge in my personal Facebook attempts.
Face it Blessi, I am not certain
that many readers noticed your cute photo or even your breed while
distracted by the sight of Senor F. To me you have the coloring of Robert Redford during his younger years, the poise of Cary Grant, the athletic ability of Tom Cruise, the humor of John Cleese, and the rugged good looks of Harrison Ford. If I only had the riding ability of Senor F, we could make beautiful, classic, MGM dancing movies together. As it is, I limit us to screwball comedies. So I will continue to gush frequently and in public over you.
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