preakness day

Today is the 136th running of Preakness.  Second leg of the triple crown.  And I am having a flood of memories from my post college years.  I hace always had a fondness of horses as a youngster. My aunt had them periodically throughout her years and I would ride with not much style.  Actually, I can remember hanging on for year life sideways as I desperately pulled on the reins.  After that experience, I turned to the sport of horseracing.
I lived 3 blocks from Pimlico right after college with my room mate Bobbi.  We were the destination for Preakness every year. A pile of folks would arrive the night before, take up space on floors with little sleep, and start early for our trek to the racetrack.  I had managed to take ownership of a grocery cart a few years back and it remained parked on my porch until needed.  In went beer, blankets, whiskey, food, beer..well you get the idea.  We would roll in into the gates, park it on the infield and set up camp.  We were travelling light-most folks brought in scaffolding, couches, kegs, televisions-it looked like someone's living room. Spirits were high, betting was optional, black eyed susans were not. By the time the Preakness race was run, it was pretty over for most.  I would take a quick glance around the field. It was littered with horizonal bodies in various drunken positions, completely oblivious to the screams from the stands. I don't think I ever actually saw a preakness race..well, maybe one or two.
One year, my roommate and I decided to make it to the triple crown.  We successfully made a trip to the Derby-a group of 5 women and Arnout, who was dating Barbara.  He had been in the U.S. for 3 weeks (he is Dutch) before he bravely climbed into the yellow buick  and headed south to the blue hills of Kentucky.  I called from Louisville to tell work I sprained my ankle and wouldn't be in.  The highlights of that trip were having all of our kentucky bourbon taken at the gate, a meaningless affair with a southern boy, and I saw no horses.  Lots of topless women, but no horses. And we never made it to Belmont.  And Arnout lived through his initiation of American traditions.
My infield days are over.  I am much happier watching from my living room, with a martini.  I am happy to see the traditions live on with the younger set.   Sure would be nice to see a triple crown winner this year.