The Track and Back
I'm at Uncommon Grounds on Sunday. Earlier today, I went to the track. I went with 40 dollars to spend on making bets. I cashed out with 18. So, consider the cost of getting in, the hot dog, the pretzel, the water, and the parade magazine, the whole day was a break-even kind of day. Since I didn't spend anything for five hours worth of entertainment (and excitement: I actually hit TWO superfectas and a trifecta!!! Too bad they were on tiny bets. Rather, I spent a lot on various bets), I've decided to see the Honeycutters play at Caffe Lena tonight. The Honeycutters are based out of South Carolina (I believe) and are fronted by a former Caffe Lena regular, Amanda Platt. Last time I saw Amanda play, she played with the lead guitarist of her band at open mic... maybe... a year and a half ago. She sounded amazing. She well-rounded in her playing and confidence, as oppossed to the rougher and less-confident Amanda that I remembered from open mic's passed. I'm interested to see how she has further developed as a musician. And her band should be real cool.
I wrote this while at the track:
I’m at the track. Saratoga time in the summer. Horses and hats. I’m at the horse racing track and I’m wearing a hat. It doesn’t get much more Saratoga than this. It’s cool and that makes me happy. I did a lot of walking to get here. You see, parking can suck during track season so I made a decision. My choice was to park on or near Broadway, walk to Uncommon Grounds, have brunch, walk to the hat shop, drive to the track, not find a place to park, park two miles away and walk to the track. OR (and this is what I did) park close to the track before it got crowded, walk back to Broadway, brunch, hat shop, walk back to the track. I’m not sure I made the right choice, because I am a little spent from the long walk to Broadway and back… Still, it won’t be far to walk from the track to my car.
I posted a picture of the new feather in my hat. Before buying it, I tried on a few other styles of hats that were similar to my own. I didn’t like them very much. Mine has a short brim, which is something that the other’s did not have and thus made me look very awkward. So I bought the feather and went on my way.
I don’t know what I’m doing here at the track… betting on horse, of course, but I seriously don’t know what I’m doing. On my way in, people yelled, “PINK SHEETS. ONE DOLLAR!” I looked at one girl who was selling pink sheets and told her that I have a ‘green sheet,’ which was free. I picked it up on Broadway. The girl was wearing a pink shirt and she gave me an evil eye. “Damn greet sheets,” she probably thought.
I read through my green sheet and also the parade magazine. I crossed out the scratches when the loudspeaker announced them. I made some notes about jockey changes. Finally, I circled some numbers on the first race.
I don’t why I circled those particular numbers. I am going to do a boxed exacta with three horses. If any of the three come in first and second, I win money.
I don’t have any real rhyme or reason for choosing the horses I did. I don’t go by names or lucky numbers. I don’t pick horses based on what colors they wear or the jockey’s name or winning streak. I just do what feels right. Some times that pays off.
Mostly, I’ll read over the parade magazine with my pen in my hand. I’ll make notes. I’ll circle numbers. I’ll look contemplative and even chew on my pen. I might purse my lips and lean my pen against my chin. I’ll make some more notes or scribble something out vigorously. Then I’ll tap my pen on the page and nod my head as if I just solved a difficult mathematical equation.
People who are watching me may think I have discovered something particularly secretive as I quickly fold up my paper and go to the betting machine. Or they may think that I’m just another dude pretending to know what he is doing.
If someone were to talk to me about which horses I picked and why, I would say, “these ones,” and I would show them my magazine. I wouldn’t answer their second question. If they persisted, I would just shrug my shoulders. Maybe I would say, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Currently, I have my laptop sitting in front of me. Some people probably think I am using it to analyze numbers. They are mistaken. I am typing this. Later, I may work on my screen play. Yes. I have a screen play. It is almost finished in its first draftiness. It will need to be re-written and put into proper format. Where it stands now, I just need to write the ending and I finally figured how that will go.
Right. Well, It’s post time. I have to go place my wager.
I took some pictures at the track, but my computer isn't wanting to connect with my phone right now... they aren't stellar pictures anyway... they were taken on a freaking phone, after all.
I wrote this while at the track:
I’m at the track. Saratoga time in the summer. Horses and hats. I’m at the horse racing track and I’m wearing a hat. It doesn’t get much more Saratoga than this. It’s cool and that makes me happy. I did a lot of walking to get here. You see, parking can suck during track season so I made a decision. My choice was to park on or near Broadway, walk to Uncommon Grounds, have brunch, walk to the hat shop, drive to the track, not find a place to park, park two miles away and walk to the track. OR (and this is what I did) park close to the track before it got crowded, walk back to Broadway, brunch, hat shop, walk back to the track. I’m not sure I made the right choice, because I am a little spent from the long walk to Broadway and back… Still, it won’t be far to walk from the track to my car.
I posted a picture of the new feather in my hat. Before buying it, I tried on a few other styles of hats that were similar to my own. I didn’t like them very much. Mine has a short brim, which is something that the other’s did not have and thus made me look very awkward. So I bought the feather and went on my way.
I don’t know what I’m doing here at the track… betting on horse, of course, but I seriously don’t know what I’m doing. On my way in, people yelled, “PINK SHEETS. ONE DOLLAR!” I looked at one girl who was selling pink sheets and told her that I have a ‘green sheet,’ which was free. I picked it up on Broadway. The girl was wearing a pink shirt and she gave me an evil eye. “Damn greet sheets,” she probably thought.
I read through my green sheet and also the parade magazine. I crossed out the scratches when the loudspeaker announced them. I made some notes about jockey changes. Finally, I circled some numbers on the first race.
I don’t why I circled those particular numbers. I am going to do a boxed exacta with three horses. If any of the three come in first and second, I win money.
I don’t have any real rhyme or reason for choosing the horses I did. I don’t go by names or lucky numbers. I don’t pick horses based on what colors they wear or the jockey’s name or winning streak. I just do what feels right. Some times that pays off.
Mostly, I’ll read over the parade magazine with my pen in my hand. I’ll make notes. I’ll circle numbers. I’ll look contemplative and even chew on my pen. I might purse my lips and lean my pen against my chin. I’ll make some more notes or scribble something out vigorously. Then I’ll tap my pen on the page and nod my head as if I just solved a difficult mathematical equation.
People who are watching me may think I have discovered something particularly secretive as I quickly fold up my paper and go to the betting machine. Or they may think that I’m just another dude pretending to know what he is doing.
If someone were to talk to me about which horses I picked and why, I would say, “these ones,” and I would show them my magazine. I wouldn’t answer their second question. If they persisted, I would just shrug my shoulders. Maybe I would say, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Currently, I have my laptop sitting in front of me. Some people probably think I am using it to analyze numbers. They are mistaken. I am typing this. Later, I may work on my screen play. Yes. I have a screen play. It is almost finished in its first draftiness. It will need to be re-written and put into proper format. Where it stands now, I just need to write the ending and I finally figured how that will go.
Right. Well, It’s post time. I have to go place my wager.
I took some pictures at the track, but my computer isn't wanting to connect with my phone right now... they aren't stellar pictures anyway... they were taken on a freaking phone, after all.