A day at the races

For years I've always been told to bet the gray horse. No idea why. Maybe it's because there aren't that many of them. Or that they're so beautiful.

So that's what I've always done.

The family and I spent yesterday at Del Mar Racetrack, where the turf meets the surf. A beautiful track that sits on a spectacular section of the California coast, it was built by a partnership that included Bing Crosby, Jimmy Durante and Oliver Hardy. As racetracks go, it has a much higher class of gambling degenerates than, say, Hollywood Park. Everyone seems to clean up a little better. There were a lot of hats that looked like they'd be right at home in the royal wedding party.

Preferring not to sit with the riff-raff in the general grandstand section, we sat with the riff-raff in the clubhouse section. You can buy reserved seats in the clubhouse section, but there's really no need to. There are plenty of empty seats to sit in until someone who's paid for reserved seats comes and throws you out (which didn't happen to us). And if it did, we'd have just moved to other unoccupied seats.

I used to go to the track quite a bit when I was in college. Santa Anita, Hollywood Park, here at Del Mar. And I used to bet on the ponies quite a bit as well. I'd bet things like my rent money (which didn't make my roommate happy at all), my paycheck, my savings - you see where I'm going here. If I'd been better at it, it wouldn't have been any big deal. The problem was my skill at picking horses was just as good as my talent for hang-gliding, barbecuing and car repair.

The one time I actually won back the rent money I'd lost I took it as a sign I probably should stop going to the track. So I did. For a long time.

But now that years have gone by, and I have kids, I thought it was time to show them the fun of racing. The splendor of the track. The grandeur of these stunning animals (the ones on the track, not in the stands). After all, it is the Sport of Kings. And seriously, aside from a smoke-filled casino, what better place for impressionable young children than a racetrack filled with drunken gamblers.

I know, right?

Oh, and about that gray horse I bet on? In this picture he's just out of frame to the left.

Along with his walker and oxygen tank.