Goshen

Friday, January 2, 2009. My sister and I up at my mom's house in Goshen, NY. Mom at work in the billings department of the local hospital until 4pm. Big sis and I go for a walk through the small town.

On the heels of weeks of trauma, it's sort of nice to be somewhere *else*.

Breakfast at quaint, local, triangle-shaped diner called Elsie's.

Stroll past coffee shops. Bakery. Pharmacy.

"No Trespassing" signs on a boarded up house...

... with an ajar door...

Small town life.

We happen upon a snow-covered harness-racing track. A historical site. We walk around the cold white track. It is oddly peaceful here.

There is a museum attached to this track.

A harness racing museum. Free tours today. January 2, 2009. We go for it.

A startlingly thorough museum all about the history and magic of harness racing...

Portraits...

Vintage drawings...

Life-size dioramas...

Talking statues with half-assed "horse" voices...

Touchable exhibits... for kids...

A winding path of history lessons...

... culminating in something surprisingly ambitious for a small town museum. A "harness-racing simulator".

One of the high-school aged tour guides eagerly greets us toward the end of the museum path and asks us if we'd like to try the simulator.

Um... hell yeah?

He brings us into this little screening room. (Sorry I don't have a good pic of it.) A table filled with 3d glasses. A rising stand of seats. Once seated, mechanical lap bars descend upon us, like a low-rent Disney ride. A large screen is before us. Not IMAX large; just large enough to establish the effect.

The "simulation" begins and this 3d video immerses you in the thrilling world of... harness racing. After some establishing shots, you're in the race. Staring at the ass-end of the racer in front of you. The simulator vibrates soothingly, creating a decent effect of riding in a horse-drawn chariot. To spike the 3d excitement, the videomakers insert 90's era computer generated virtual *pebbles* flying out at you... as well as an occasional, nonsensical virtual horseshoe.

Now that's what I call pod-racing.

If I had not been in a deep state of depression while riding this, I might have laughed my ass off. And yet, it was way more than I expected out of a small town museum. Funnier still that it probably would have been a lot less expensive for them to just take us out onto the track and let us actually harness-race.

Surreal and elsewhere, here. Good to be away from the city. But no less lost here.

The pain and memories continue to come and go. Every so often, it's like a blade is wrenched into my gut and I've got no choice but to take it.