Vanishing Act

This is about my incredible sister … stylish, efficient, dependable and oh, so patient. She was my oldest sister. I’m the youngest. That means … she was always looking out for me. That was a very secure feeling as a kid.

Then we grew up … moved to Southern California and continued our best times together. Beaches, sailing … in general enjoying the good life. We worked at opposite ends of the LA freeways, which meant getting together took time depending on the dreadful traffic.

She was a University professor and I was at Paramount Studios doing … something. Her big thrill was meeting me for lunch and driving through the big gates, past the guards and heading for the commissary. The luster of that procedure had dimmed for me over time, but not for her. After all, for all the guard knew, my sister could have been arriving for her starring role.

Lunching meant seeing lots of crews members, a few audition hopefuls and a star or two hiding out in the corners. She swears Tom Hanks was staring at her.

My big thrill was driving to the University where she taught, pulling into the parking space marked “Staff Only” and confidently walking past countless rooms to the huge office with the window. On the door was her name in large letters. The walls were covered with her degrees and awards. That was my big day.

However, the nightmare of all times was shopping with my sister. Immediately she was transformed from my caretaker of the past. She became the child that relished playing hide and seek with mom. Unfortunately, I was the one doing the looking. It never failed, if I turned around … she was gone. Swish, not a word … gone.

I tried to establish rules, like let’s stick together, don’t leave without saying where you are going, do not hide behind the mannequins and absolutely, do not speak to strangers.

Years ago, our mother had established the time honored procedure that … should anyone get separated, go back to the last place we were together.

Well, that pretty much meant that I didn’t move … while my sister cruised the stores. I stayed glued in one spot, the last place we were together. Since I usually had the car keys, I knew, at least, that was a sure thing. She would show up eventually. When was the unknown factor.

My sister seemed to have a built in timer. Just as I would be heading to the “lost person desk”, she would show up, smiling over having found some absolutely amazing item. When asked where in the world she was, the reply was always the same. “Oh, just over there”.

I never found out what department in the store was … “over there”.

Now, my sister has moved to Denver. I really miss those wonderful times shopping with her. I’d love to hop a plane and head for the nearest shopping mall.

Would be such fun to hunt for her again.

The Electric Chair ?!

Technically she is a horse thief.

In the olden days, a horse thief knew they had a one way trip to the nearest sizable hanging tree.  No discussion, no debate, no pleading with the judge.  The horse thief was a no good, dirty rotten scoundrel.

However, in the recent Los Angeles Times it states that Gail Ruffu was a trainer at the Hollywood Park race track.  She was the furthest thing from a horse thief and certainly not a scoundrel.

And thus begins the drama.  It is true that there is one race horse named Urgent Envoy that disappeared from the race track stable on Christmas Eve two years ago.

It’s true Gail Ruffu was responsible.  She is also the only one who knows the whereabouts of Urgent Envoy.  She is not telling, she is not returning him and she insists she is not a horse thief.

Gail states, “You can threaten me with the electric chair, but I’m not giving him back as long as he is in danger.”

It seems that the horse fractured a leg and the veterinarians advised that the horse not race for a least six months.  As part owner and trainer of Urgent Envoy, Gail sent the horse to the country for medical care and recovery.

Now enter the other half-owner.

In short time, someone brought the horse back to the race track. Some thought the plan was to administer pain-masking drugs and race him in spite of the injury.  And, thus, the disappearance of Urgent Envoy.

Law suits were followed by court hearings.  The judge was bewildered by the case, thinking it was about car theft. After all, how often do alleged horse thieves appear in the court room?  Gail Ruffu was acquitted by the jury of being a horse thief.

But the story is far from over.  The hunt is on for Urgent Envoy.  Investigators are searching pastures, stables and backyards.  The likelihood of this horse ever running a race, much less winning is pure fantasy.

The world of horse racing is filled with stories of healthy horses mysteriously dying during the night, and unhealthy horses being forced to race until they collapse.

There is no heart in horse racing.  It is all about money.

 Gail Ruffu has given up everything for Urgent Envoy. She has been banned from ever training at any race track in the United States.  She lives in a cold tack room of an old stable.

But she has a cause and a purpose.   Finally, here is someone who cares about these animals. 

I hope they never find Urgent Envoy!  And, by the way, Gail … we have an extra stall in our barn.  They’d never find him.

If only …

Two words seem to pass through my mind far too many times during the day. I try to prevent them, but not always successfully.

These are the same two words I hear from friends … and even in the conversations of complete strangers.

Two words that have the power to darken the view of the past, present and future.

The two profound words … “if only”.

If only I had this, if only I had that, if only I could, if only I didn’t have to … if only I had, if only I hadn’t.

These two words take away the now, put conditions on the future and pull one into a past that cannot be changed.

They block present pleasures, deprive hopes for the future and prevent the enjoyment of past memories.

“If only” … has never changed anything.

I realize that the only escape from these powerful words is to think of the now, to appreciate the present, to plan the future and to accept the past. A task easier said, than done.

There is a quote that offers a wonderful escape to the emotions that come with the words ”if only”.

It says: Fill your life with things you love.

Nothing else matters. I’m going to try it. I’ll let you know.