This past weekend, the Skipah’s Travelling Road Show took their act to none other than horse capital of the world, Lexington, Kentucky. No, we weren’t looking for an acre or two of the finest in bluegrass plots to pitch a tent on. We were taking in the festivities of the Breyer Fest 2016!
What is the Breyer Festival you may ask? It’s a three-day extravaganza of grand champion horses of different breeds and classes that moonlights as a renegade outlet mall for Breyer horse figurines. If you aren’t part of the Breyer horse trading clique, consider yourself lucky. These horse traders make Barbie Doll collectors seem like a pack of goat herders. Insanity checked out with these whack-a-mole collector’s years ago, more to come on that.
This particular day it was just the blonde bomber and me. Our running mates for last year couldn’t attend this time around, but we weren’t going to let that deter us. With the heat index pushing 110 degrees, Mr. Skipah checked with local bookmakers and found great odds on “Someone is Going to Die Today.” After 20 minutes in the oppressive heat, I was just hoping it wouldn’t be me! As an added bonus, the always pungent aroma of horse dung takes on an even more impressive quality when the mercury overdoses.
All kidding aside on the horse trading mafia (figurine division) for the $18.00 admission it was actually quite the bargain. Plenty, and I mean plenty of perks and freebies for the kids. Sloane got her own mini figurines to add to her collection from last year , and other than paying a king’s ransom for concessions, you don’t need to spend a dollar once you are in there unless of course you get caught up negotiating with the toy horse trading Mafioso.
We started out hitting the custom figurine painting station, and Sloane did her best to recreate her own Secretariat while I beat up a wheelchair-bound elderly lady (she looked at me funny) and threatened to tell her grandkids the truth about Santa Claus if they didn’t let me have the precious space in front of the super-sized fan that served as air conditioning. I only rendered grandma unconscious long enough for Sloane to finish channeling her inner Georgia O’Keeffe and even bought her a $4.00 water and thanked her for letting me occupy her space for a few minutes. We are Facebook friends now, so no worries, loyal reader, “It’s all good.”
From there it was off to the stables to take in the approximately six billion dollars’ worth of grand champion horses and ponies. With the artic-like temps and the Mister Ed look alike that apparently eats Taco Bell instead of oats for nutrition, my nose was wishing it was just a tad smaller. If any government wants to package a “weapon of mass destruction,” I would suggest figuring out a way to recreate the odor emanating from Lexington, KY last Saturday afternoon. Sloane was not deterred in all the aromatic foulness and petted any horse that would let her and even stopped for some Q & A time with a couple of them. Bonus points to the staff hand with Jeff Wilson’s Cowboy Dressage, and to Mr. Wilson himself for answering all of Sloane’s questions. Not to mention one of the horses in his stable, Orion, had all the phillies drooling and spitting their bit, with his “bitching” haircut for the occasion.
Meet Orion, he’s also not a big fan of ISIS!
A very special thanks to the girls that handled the equine beauties at The American Saddlebred Horse Association. Super friendly and did all but let Sloane saddle up on their precious champions. They were running a social media selfie contest and subsequent drawing for a “one of a kind” Breyer horse figurine and tried to rig the results better than the Democratic National Committee did in this year’s Democratic Primary elections for Sloane.
The pride and joy of the ASHA!
From there we took in a couple of the horse performances in the open air arena. No pictures to be offered up since my SG7 needed some replenishing juice herself for the Gobi Desert like temps. Then we visited the Breyer store so Sloane could window shop since the Skipah’s Realm coffers didn’t budget correctly enough to spend the roughly $250,000 that Sloane wanted to. Again, I say this whole collector process is insanity fornicated with batshit crazy. An armed guard greets you at the entrance, and you can’t bring anything to the open air market but your physical body and your Visa or your favorite dead presidents.
I am teasing this whole horse trading crowd because it needs to be teased! I didn’t snap any pictures of the numerous vendors that stand in line for a CHANCE to win one of a kind Breyer horses and then resell them at their flea market booths to the zombies that are willing to pay the 1000% mark up. Thankfully Sloane was happy with her mini freebies, and I didn’t have to sell off any functioning remaining organs to keep her that way since she didn’t come home with a limited edition of Simba. I literally can’t put it into words how this whole process works!
Stand in 100-degree heat in a line 500 deep for a CHANCE to win a plastic horse. Seems logical to me!
One final stop to the kiddy interactive zone before we found sanctuary in the air conditioning paradise known as “my car.” Again, I can’t stress enough for $18.00 USD this is the bargain of the century! Free pony rides, a petting zoo, mechanical bull exhibit (cue up the Urban Cowboy references), and plenty of other activities for your mini me(s) to feel like a cowgirl/cowboy.
About it for now, thankfully I didn’t get to cash any winning tickets on people passing away, but I did cash in on another chapter of Great Moments with Sloane that may or may not hit bookstores in the year 2025. Not to go all La Costra Nostra, but the Breyer Fest has become “our thing” and I can’t wait until next year to do it again!