Here’s The New News from the Slim Shack
I get up every morning and run.
To the bathroom, that is.
But seriously, I love to run/jog/walk. I do it just about every day.
And one of my favorite places to walk is right up the street at the Empire Polo Club.
It’s beautiful; a well-manicured oasis in the middle of the desert. It’s about the size of 5 or 6 football fields, surrounded on the perimeter by statues of lions, ornate wrought-iron fences, fountains, ponds, rose gardens, palm trees, gazebos, patios, horse barns and such.¬†
I’m surprised they let me in the place.
They have polo matches January through March.
I’ve been to a few, they’re really exciting and not expensive. And not crowded, maybe a couple hundred people.
It got me thinking, and that’s perilous for me because of my ailment…Attention Surplus Syndrome. You know the acronym. It’s the opposite of ADD. I think too much, for too long.
How the hell is anybody making money playing polo? Can someone please explain that to me? It’s not like the NFL, with 50,000 fans in the stands, with millions more watching on TV.
Polo lasts only a couple months, about 12 games. The horses are all expensive ex-thoroughbreds. Seriously. Each player needs about 6 horses per game. There are 8 players. And two umpires. That’s a lot of horses. And a lot of horse poop.
So how do these people support their polo habit? Who’s footing the bill? Who’s scooping the poop? How do you pay for maintaining and watering acres and acres of grass?
Especially in the middle of a desert during a drought. Every time they turn on the sprinklers, the Colorado River goes down a few feet.
Well, in April, after the polo season ends they have the Coachella Festival. It’s one of the biggest music festivals in the world.
And the most lucrative. Last year it raked in about 100 million bucks.
I saw the promoters down at Home Depot buying dozens of rakes just to rake in all the cash.
This weekend’s headliners are…The Weeknd, Beyonc√®, and Eminem. And since it’s only about 100 miles from Hollywood, all the stars come out to play. Leonardo Di Caprio. Justin Bieber. And every Kardashian ever born or about to be born.
During the day, small planes buzz above the festival, towing signs. The low hum of the engines reminds me of being on the beach back in Ocean City, Maryland, watching the planes fly slowly over the shoreline, pulling banners with ads.
Except the banners at Coachella say things like “Everyone Must Get Laid” rather than “All the Corndogs You Can Eat at the Bearded Clam!”
The family who owns the Empire Polo grounds made their money building shopping malls in California. One of the sons wanted a place to ride horses, so he bought some land in the desert in the middle of nowhere.
Not long after, promoters approached him about doing a music festival there.
Lucky guy, huh Slim People? Must’ve had a horseshoe up his ***! It started off small, and grew to epic proportions.
And now for two weeks we get a couple hundred thousand folks descending upon a couple acres on the outskirts of Palm Springs.
During Coachella I can’t jog around the Empire Polo grounds, so I just walk up the street, which is surprisingly clean, even though there are hundreds of thousands of people around.
All I saw was a few red Solo cups, a couple empty beer cans (48 ouncers!) and some medical marijuana containers.
Empty, of course.
Keep smiling, Slim People. And keep in touch.
It’s all about love.
Who loves ya?
Uncle Slimmy
PS…I did a new cooking video for risotto with chicken and mushrooms. She’s a-so nice!! Here it be, Free for All Slim Folks: