And a happy trails to me, I hope

As I type this, the 137th Belmont Stakes is about to run. Too bad the world doesn’t need a hero the way the movie “Seabiscuit” would lead us to believe. Of course, the world – especially America – does need a hero. It’s just that I don’t think a horse can fill the role. Trigger , maybe, but he’s long dead (and, of course, mounted and rearing in front of the Roy Rogers, Dale Evans Museum in Branson, Mo.).

And after the Belmont finishes, we’re heading out to see “Mr. & Mrs. Smith,” the “War of the Roses” equivalent of spy films. I’m not sure what to expect. Never am anymore. But I did catch Brad Pitt on the Diane Sawyer special the other night, and he – in between calling for people like me to send money to Africa – managed to stave off the stupid questions about his personal life (re. whether he was gonna divorce Jennifer Aniston: “Like I’m gonna talk about that,” he said) that was the whole reason for the show. He even made me laugh a couple of times as he did it.

So I owe him a fair view. We’ll just see if The Lips That Would Be an Actress can hold up her end.