Book of Daze: Don’t Frighten the Horses Day

Postmodern society has obviously forgotten the golden rule of Victorian decorum: “Don’t frighten the horses.”

This was the bedrock of civilization: maintaining a public facade of decency so that the livestock—and, by extension, the neighbors—remained unbothered. Yet, as we open the Book of Daze today, we find that the horses are not merely frightened; they are galloping toward the horizon in panic.

Sometimes the horse-frightening behavior comes from a doofus carrying a boombox the size of a compact refrigerator. Listening to music is apparently not enough, one must share it at 130 decibels, ensuring that the bass line rearranges the internal organs of innocent bystanders.

Also frightening are amorous endeavors in the open air. There was a time when intimacy was a private matter, shielded by curtains and propriety. Today, however, it appears that the park bench has often replaced the boudoir. The participants seem to believe they are invisible, engaging in vocalizations that would make a feral cat blush. It is a spectacle that does not just frighten the horses; it causes them to cover their eyes and to question the evolutionary trajectory of primates.

The automobile has become a mechanized terror equipped with exhaust pipes that have been surgically altered to sound like a continuous series of small-scale artillery explosions.

Drivers do not merely travel from A to B; they announce their progress with a mechanical flatulence so profound it shakes the foundations of houses. When such a vehicle screams past, it is a noisy, metallic assault on the senses that ensures no horse or human within a three-mile radius will experience a moment of peace.

Saving the worst for last, we cite the postmodern method of greeting law enforcement. In a bygone era, a polite nod and a “Morning, officer,” was enough. No more. Now we witness a capped crusader spitting at the passenger side window of a law enforcement vehicle then kicking in its right rear taillight. This is the sort of display that leaves the horses trembling in their stables, wondering why we humans are so determined to dismantle our own dignity.

If we wish to honor the sanctity of don’t frighten the horses day, we could try to exist for twenty-four hours without making the local fauna wish they were deaf or extinct. It is a lofty goal, but the horses would surely appreciate the reprieve.

For additional Book of Daze entries celebrating other days that ought not to exist either.