Notes from the track

I return from the show at Del Mar chastened, beaten by far more than a nose, yet still standing. I drive to Bay Meadows tomorrow to give it another go. I remember hearing a psychic once say that they had rigged an apparatus to measure the psychic vibrations at various geographic locales around the world and invariably, racetracks and casinos had the worst "vibes"ever measured. Nothing else close.  Must be all of that residual greed and misery. And here I am following the circuit.

I sold and scrapped a lot of cheap silver at the show, needing to pay my mortgage and today's car repair bill. Haven't hit a home run in a long time and I think that I am getting too used to running on fumes. Getting used to that jackboot on my windpipe.

I scored on a nice piece of pottery that should work and got a few promising leads on paintings.

The most earth shattering thing I saw I will unfortunately be forced to describe because my photograph didn't save.  Imagine if you will, a three hundred pound woman wearing a skin tight "Pucci - Vasarely type, black and white geometric blouse. I was alerted to the heavenly vision by a colleague. The bulging concentric lines were creating optical patterns that Euclid himself could never have conceived of. Truly remarkable, and seared into my teary retinas for eternity.

Saw my old painting teacher, the infamous G.D. Durrant and his lovely wife Susan at the show. Durrant is a great watercolorist and the pride of Sul Ross College. They were kind enough to purchase one of my wares.

One of my clients came by looking quite dapper in his fedora and pinstripe suit, having recently shed 85 lbs. He has a four step non bariatric plan. 1. Don't diet. 2. Don't exercise. 3. Eat when you are hungry. But only a small portion. 4. Eat slowly. The proof is in the pudding, he looks good but I don't think I could go there.

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I had a cup of coffee with Warren this morning, my ex wise guy, bookmaker friend. Warren used to do layoffs for the big bookies years ago and came out from New York to follow the ponies. He is always good for a few gems and today was a superfecta.

Thank god horses can't talk, you don't have to hear them thanking Jesus after the race.


Talking about breeding - Mrs. Sullivan had thirteen children, only one was John L..


Bet short odds or have a long face.


When a horseplayer says a horse has a better track time - the only time time counts is when you are in the joint.


Talking about loudmouth winners - Eats like a bird, shits like an elephant.


Winners tell stories, losers say "deal!"


There were four or five more but my brain couldn't process fast enough. I am going to try to start the second chapter of Clarksdale this week. Thanks to all for your encouragement.