I went to a bull sale yesterday. I have to replace a few bulls because they have gotten old. It seems somehow strangely fitting to me that after a lifetime of living to eat and have sex, that you end up being slaughtered and made into sausage.
The bull sale is sort of a big to-do. You get fliers in the mail with pictures of each bull in the auction. Beside each bull, there is a little bio of the bulls pedigree, weights at different times of his life, and the measurement of his testicles. If you are a bull, and you want to be attractive, you have to have large balls. In the world of the cow pen, there isn't time for dating, and romance, and just getting together for a few drinks to see if you like the personality of your mate. Most likely, the cow sees the bull, says to herself: "hey, that guy has nuts that hang to his knees. I think i would like HIM to be the father of my offspring."
The more good genetics that you can put together, the odds are with you that their offspring are going to be superior. But it's still pretty much a crap shoot. You can have two Nobel Prize winning parents, mix their baby making goo together in perfect laboratory conditions, and you still might end up with a biscuit for a kid. Conversely, you could have a child conceived in a trailer park, on a futon, while Hillbilly Handfishin' is playing on the TV in the other room, grow up to be the leader of the free world. You just never know.
That's the magic. You just never know. You do your homework, you try to make the best decision, you drop Forty-five hundred dollars on bull, but until those calves start hitting the ground, it remains a mystery. If they get up in a hurry, start sucking right away, and grow like crazy, you win. If they wander in circles and keep walking into the wall of the barn, you probably didn't do so well. Anywhere in between is cake.
...........Hillbilly Handfishin' is a real show, i saw it on the guide the other day while i was flipping around. I stopped for a second to read the info but i could feel my teeth loosening in my head and had a sudden urge to tear the sleeves off my shirt. I moved on before i was permanently scarred.