The Canadian Sportsman
December 31, 2009
I’m a Queen in the field of local, live, small business entertainment
I’m not going to lie to you, my psychic friends, times are tough in the Equine Psychic Medium (EPM) game.
It’s a cynical world.
You’d think most people would want to unlock the secret of their racehorse’s mind and open the doors to the vault, but C’est la vie (that’s French for “whoop dee do”). I refuse to let the hostile vibes of the doubters infect my sunny-side-up demeanor.
Given the state of the economy, the number of lavish office Christmas parties is down this year. Apparently, employers are reluctant to mix alcohol with disgruntled employees.
One trend that’s big among companies is throwing together something that’s part pot luck, part swap meet and part carnival sideshow.
Simply circle a date in December, ask employees to whip up their best lime Jell-O and floating fruit combination, bring small gifts to trade with the colleagues they like and order in some inexpensive local talent.
On that last score, business is booming. I’ve had to reinvent myself a little, but it doesn’t take much more than putting on some big hoop earrings, throwing on my great-great-grandmother Esmeralda Hicks’ gypsy skirt and pulling the old crystal ball out of the trunk of mystery.
My boyfriend, True Harmony, brings the brownies.
I’ve done 12 office parties so far this month, though the other day I lost a gig to a place that decided to bring in a live reindeer instead. I tried to convince the man I probably could do a psychic reindeer reading, but he just hung up.
For the parties I have done, Tarot card readings are popular, unless you get bad news. (One guy burst into tears when I told him he better start looking for a new job).
I can’t figure out why the bosses always choke when I tell them I’d like to bring a horse into the office and show everyone what I do best. Heck, Jack McNiven brought Run The Table right up to the stage for the stallion’s induction into the Canadian Horse Racing Hall of Fame and everyone LOVED that.
Naturally, everyone wants me to make predictions for 2010. I’m no Miss Cleo. I do horses, remember? About all I can tell them is:
• Greg Peck will not have a horse better than Muscle Hill.
• Everyone will grumble about declining handle and then do nothing.
• Former Canadian horse of the year Admirals Express will race at least 30 times “because he loves it” and then, mercifully, will reach mandatory retirement age at the end of the year.
To these predictions, most of the suit-and-tie insurance types just stare at me with glassy eyes and open mouths covered in brownie crumbs.
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October 02, 2009
Leave your cares behind... Come with us and find... the pleasure of a journey to the centre of a yearling mind...
Most major farms will have a huge spread set out near their shedrow at Fasig-Tipton in a not-too-subtle attempt to ply potential yearling buyers with the likes of oysters Rockefeller or, better yet, liquor.
Leather couches inside tents fit for a sheik; wide-screen televisions perpetually featuring flawless young equine babes moving seductively across perfect paddocks. It’s enough to make a horse-lover drool. It’s also a heinous example of the kind of human excess and grotesque capitalist consumption that led to climate change.
But what does all this marketing mumbo-jumbo really tell you about the horses you wish to buy, hmmmm?
Will that slice of honey-baked ham really make you choose the yearling from Huge Farm A over the yearling from Huge Farm B?
Wouldn’t you rather get inside a horse’s mind? Measure his heart? Read his soul?
In my humble way, Buddha-willing, I’ll be there to help. I’ll be in Kentucky next week for the Lexington-Selected Yearling Sale conducting my version of a sit-in with my boyfriend True Harmony and my Transcendental Love Cocoon (TLC for short). Look for the horse trailer hitched to my VW bus. It will be parked across the highway from the sales pavilion (Can you believe the capitalist pig dogs wouldn’t let me park it on site?) The TLC may not look like much on the outside, but the interior is designed for your horse’s every mental comfort.
Right around hip #45, I figure most people will need to cleanse from all that grody buying and selling. Stop by the TLC for some delicious wheatgrass juice. In honour of the 40th anniversary of Woodstock, I’ll have the soy incense fired up and the album playing all day.
Better yet, bring your potential yearling purchase by for a reading. For just $79.95 (cash only), I’ll tell you which horses have the heart of a tiger and which ones have the motivation of a fat kid with an Xbox.
I’ll let you know which yearlings are brilliant and which ones have brains the size of tic tacs.
I’ll get to the heart of which yearlings have the fast-twitch muscles of champion athletes and which ones have the reaction time of True Harmony after a couple of bong hits.
I think Ted Nugent’s old band, the Amboy Dukes, said it best:
Leave your cares behind
Come with us and find
The pleasure of a journey to the centre of a yearling’s mind
How happy life could be
If all of mankind
Would take the time to journey to the centre of a yearling’s mind.
True Harmony’s kind of a poet, too. He is fond of saying, “This ain’t no horse whispering crap. It’s, like, a coming together of souls. One woman and one horse becoming a single sentient life form; one heart beating for two.”
Tell me a free ball cap or a pen-on-a-rope can do that.
August 25, 2009
It doesn’t take a clairvoyant to know you’re skeptical. Horse whisperer? Horse psychic? I prefer Equine Psychic Messenger or EPM for short.
Peace be with you. My name is Calliope Hicks and I’ve been blessed with EESP — Equine Extra Sensory Perception. In fact, I’m the a fifth generation EPM bursting with EESP.
The cosmic journey began with my great-great-grandmother Esmeralda Hicks, a gypsy captured by the British, taken to South Africa during the Boer War and forced to tell British cavalry officers what their horses were thinking. Imperialist pig dogs.
A lot has changed in 110 years.
The other day, in fact, I grew wings. I am now a mobile medium.
I found this great old horse trailer just abandoned by the side of the road. I hitched it to my VW bus and dragged it home.
It needed a little love, but it’s nothing some bondo, spray paint and incense can’t fix. Incense fixes everything!
You wouldn’t believe how many people tell me, “I’d love to have you do a reading on my horse, but, darn it, you’re so far away and I can’t take the time away from looking after the other horses.”
Great news! Now I can come to you!
I call it my Transcendental Love Cocoon or TLC for short.
Some of the horses freak out a little walking through the bead curtain, but the Joni Mitchell 8-track seems to calm the fillies down, in particular (The boys seem partial to The Doors).
The secret to opening channels is to provide a comfortable, safe space free from judgment and the kind of hatred that fuels the capitalist war machine.
Too bad they don’t make bean bag chairs for horses! Soooo cozy! But, I make do with homemade brownies. Great for cleansing the senses.
If you really want to figure out why your horse is lazier than a fat guy, keeps trying to drag you through the infield pond or, by comparison, makes Vlad the Impaler seem like a guy you’d like to hang out with, I suggest you get jiggy with it in a explore-your-horse’s-mind kinda way.
First, you’ll need me to use a plunger to unblock your horse’s psychological loo.
If you want to have a happier, more confident, more successful racehorse, I highly recommend a session. Just $79.95! (Brownies extra).
So, look for my trailer in a backstretch near you soon!
It’s the one with the rainbow on one side, Pegasus on the other and the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi on the back with the friendly letters TLC, EPM and EESP floating in a cloud about his head.
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