Visions of 2020

Imagine that another year's about to roll over. Only instead of starting to write checks dated 2007, you'll be using the number 2020. Hard to picture? That's what I thought, until I realized 2020 will be upon us in a mere 13 years. That's only as far out ahead of us as 1994 is behind us. I don't know about you, but to me, 1994 seems like the day before yesterday. It's easy to remember the horses I had, the trails I rode, the outfits I wore to shows, the horse-mag articles I wrote. Suppose I sent my imagination forward instead of rearward? What would I see where my horse life's concerned?

Seeing as how I'll be 66 (going on 67) when 2020 rolls around, I suspect I'd see someone glad to have taken care of her own health--it takes a good measure of that to keep up with horsekeeping's labors. I'm already cognizant of how much harder the work seems than it did a decade ago. By 2020, I'm guessing I'd have a barnyard full of labor-saving devices, some of which haven't yet been invented but that'll find a growing market as time marches on. Like so many of those who currently keep the horse world's wheels turning, I'm a Baby Boomer. Thirteen years from now, my horse-owning generation will be 59-73 years old. Ultra-relaxed-fit Wranglers, anyone?

My current weanling colt and the full sibling expected in '07 would be in their teens. Would I still be engaged in small-scale horse breeding by 2020? Doubtful...see the above comments on health and workload. Meanwhile, though, my young show gelding would be pushing 20, enjoying his mellow-fellow years, and perhaps packing around a grandkid or two. Maybe those kids would play dress-up with the rhinestone-bedecked show clothes I've worn the last couple of seasons. Once all that bling-studded attire goes out of fashion, I doubt it'd be good for much else. "Wow, Grandma--you actually WORE this stuff? And fit into it? Amazing!" I can almost hear the incredulous comments.

If I expected to support horses, I'd probably still be working, perhaps heading up the Old Fogey Department at some media company with an equine-enthusiast division. My boss probably would be someone who's in college today--someone who couldn't remember when there was no e-mail, no digital photography, no horse breeding via shipped semen, no online message boards, no bloggers, no horsemen who traveled from show to show with a 2-horse trailer hitched to the bumper of a car. Talk about faded frames of reference.

Makes me hope that a good-sized segment of my fellow Boomers will follow me into senior-citizen horse ownership. Otherwise, who'd relate to my references about the good old days?