Sometimes my readers get to read something worthwhile here and sometimes they just get a sample of the noise that rattles around in my head. I'm afraid this entry is the latter type of post. A friend and I had a conversation earlier today that inspired this little bit of rambling aggravation.
I've decided that there are two types of people in the world. Some of us are work horses and some of us are carousel ponies. (Did I hear a giggle from the back of the room?) I'm sure you will have to admit that you can categorize everyone in your life as one of these two types. But, if your having trouble with the classification, allow me to describe them.
I believe that I, my close friends and everyone I respect is a work horse. The work horse makes a contribution to the world. The life of a work horse revolves around their duty. They demonstrate strength, dilligence and perseverance. The workhorse is generally modest, patient and long-suffering in the execution of his job. A good work horse is a calm and intelligent animal. He often times knows his job better than his handler. Just ask any farmer that has absent mindedly plowed a field. A good horse can keep the furrow straight even if the idiot behind the plow doesn't know the difference between "gee" and "haw".
Unfortunately, the majority of the world falls into the category of carousel pony. That animal is a pure phony. Its not even a real horse. The carousel pony is a vain, brightly painted artifice that serves no real purpose except to indulge the public in a brief, cheap thrill. It spends its entire existence traveling thousands of miles yet goes nowhere. It revolves in small circles and has no desire to expand the limits of its circulation. Its the carousel pony type that gets most of the attention in our celebrity obsessed world. The creature that look great, shows a flashy style and craves personal attention are those who gain the favor of the public. Who enjoys an old tired work horse when there's a dashing carousel pony available? But, lets not forget. You'll never get a lick of work done by a carousel pony unless its impaled on a metal rod with a motor attached to it. (Did I hear another snicker in the back of the room?)
Everyone let me know if you are currently having to tolerate too many carousel ponies in your life. Leave a comment and we will share our desperation.
(The photo in this post is provided by Degan Beley. More of her work is available on Flickr, screen name Luckyfish.)
