A horse is a horse, of course of course

As Barbaro lingered near his death bed last week, the Associated Press moved a series of photographs from the scene outside the animal hospital.

An entire mass of people had gathered for a vigil for the Kentucky Derby-winning thoroughbred. They had get-well signs posted along the fence and milled about with solemn expressions on their faces, speaking with reverence, as if a family patriarch lay inside clinging to life.

It all seemed a little silly.

Half the people were dressed as if they were headed to the Derby itself, outfitted in their sundresses and hats. For all I know, they were drinking mint juleps too. It was as if they were out on the hospital lawn to see and be seen.

Of course the tumble Barbaro took at the Preakness was a shame. Admittedly, it was worse than watching Theisman -- don't let his Johnny-come-lately Heisman-esque pronunciation fool you; everyone in South River will tell you it's Th-EEE-sman -- snap his leg like a twig.

That was intense. But I felt sad for the horse.

Still, all the hoopla surrounding his deterioration is excessive. You know, there's probably a whole lot of elderly people sitting in nursing homes who would really enjoy some human contact. Or some sick kids in the hospital who need cheering up. Or homeless people who could use a handout of some soup.

Not that I do any of these things myself, but I'm also not gallivanting out on the hospital lawn holding a vigil for a horse.

Maybe if these alleged mourners paid a little bit more attention to the downtrodden among the humans before tending to the critters, the world woudln't be such a sewer.

In two semi-related notes, I'd like to add that acclaimed scribe W.C. Heinz wrote a tale on deadline called "Death of a Race Horse" that is widely held as one of the best pieces of deadline reporting ever.

I don't even know what the other nominations would be, or why it needs to be labeled the best ever, but it is a very good piece of writing. Check it out.

Also of note, Crazy Bill and I ditched school to mill about the Meadowlands on the day Drazen Petrovic got his dome lopped off in a car wreck speeding on the Autobahn. Hey, at least he was a person.

In an unrelated note, I am working on my Top 100 rock artists list of all time, following in Sandman's footsteps. I do not anticipate it being ready any time soon. Definitely not before I hopefully see you all in Jersey from August 3 to 7.