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So I was about to write a lengthy lament about how my iBook had to be sent far, far away to be repaired after the untimely demise of its hard drive or processor or something major that was making me cry, when, all of a sudden, it was back! Very impressive, my Apple friends. I sent it out Airborne Express Friday evening and it was back by noon on Tuesday. Wow. I couldn’t have driven it out there any faster myself.

The only sadness that remains is that all of my iPhotos are gone (thankfully, they also reside here on this site and therefore our server), my iMovie (glad I never got motivated to do more than the one just yet. ESP? Surely.) and a handful of files that I only saved on the iBook.

Tim and I had a horrible moment, though, when we looked at each other and said, ‘I thought you backed it up.’ Needless to say, we will be backing up this new stuff religiously. Because, of course, the magical techs at Apple made my iBook new again, which means that I had to reinstall Jaguar and all of the various and sundry updates to software and such. Tim estimates that we downloaded about a half a gig of updates last night. Go, go, DSL!

Anyway, I will resume updating with the same predictable unpredictability from here on out.

Well, Beth cinched the mojo on good ol’ Funny Cide this weekend. No, I don’t really believe that. The Gutsy Gelding simply showed just how difficult it is to win the Triple Crown. Three monster efforts are required in the course of 5 weeks, and in these days of breeding faster but more fragile horses, that’s just so unlikely. Now with the crown hopes dashed, and Empire Maker redeemed, I do have some lingering “What If?” feelings left. If Jerry Bailey had ridden a better race in the Derby, saving ground instead of going wide around both turns, could it be that Empire Maker would have taken the Triple Crown? I don’t know if he would have recovered quickly enough for the Preakness, but certainly on Saturday, he proved his incredible physical talent.

Though, if Empire Maker had won, we would have never learned the fantastic story of Funny Cide and his connections. With all the horse racing talk about comparing him to Seabiscuit, nobody ever pointed out that the real reason the Biscuit’s story was so compelling was that he LOST the Big Cap in heartbreaking fashion twice. Then he was injured, took a whole year off, and at the age of 7 finally won the Big Cap, becoming the all-time money leader. Perhaps Funny Cide needed this loss to actually captivate his new found hero worshipers. Thankfully, they’ve got the horrendous weather on Belmont day to point to as an excuse.

Anyway, the summer classics await, and the Travers is already shaping up to be another battle for the ages. We haven’t heard the last of Funny Cide.

So after watching the Belmont, Beth and I left Auggie in the very capable hands of our neighbors for the evening and took in The Flaming Lips at the Pageant. And my oh my, what an incredible show. If you have the opportunity you absolutely must see the Lips play, preferrably in a large fairly modern venue where the full force of their visual extravaganza can hit you. Wayne Coyne has expanded the live experience far beyond simply seeing a band play. It was musical theatre! Their show incorporates extras in costume, highly choreographed video segments, huge balloons bounced by the crowd, confetti, smoke machines, and even some fake blood.

While I’m sure he says it everywhere he goes, he claimed to be very excited by the St. Louis’ crowd’s enthusiasm. And just by saying that, the crowd got even more amped. That in and of itself was unusual considering how most people who go to shows in St. Louis stand with a “deer in the headlights” look through most performances. Wayne got the crowd to sing “Happy Birthday” to five people in the crowd, as well as doing a-capella sing-alongs to various Lips hits. Considering there isn’t a single radio station in St. Louis that would play anything from the Flaming Lips current ouvre, the fact that there were a thousand people there singing at the top of their lungs was really cool. I don’t know, it’s hard to put into words how remarkable I thought the whole performance was. There was just real joy in the air.

The thing that makes me truly happy though is that it wasn’t just because we caught the Lips on a good night. If you read through the forum at their website, you’ll see that they seem to manage to bring this wonderful circus with them whereever they play. Heck, as this post shows, they don’t even necessarily need to be in your town to spread the joy. How cool is the story in that link!

Another two pounds gone. Into the ether. Bye-bye, fat! Now, only a few more to go…

August and I had a great visit today from Shelly and Cole, who are visiting the area from San Francisco. Cole is such a cutie, and was grinning before he even walked in the door! I totally love outgoing babies, especially considering that Auggie can be such a shy-guy.

Shelly is such a natural mother too. There was a very surreal moment when we took turns reading “Elmo’s Mother Goose” to the boys while we waited for our lunch to finish cooking. Surreal because we first met when we were both carefree college grads, and now we’re both full-time mommies. That’s kind of a long way to go. But Shelly carries it all with her sharp wit and grace. Cole’s a lucky guy. (Not to mention Chris, her husband and my old roommate). Here’s hoping she survives the long week and even longer flight back to CA without her partner in parenting crime.

Funny moment from today: One of my friends called to ask if we might want to go to Saturday’s late afternoon Cards game with her and her family, so I told her I’d talk to Tim about it and I’d get back to her. My main concern was that we needed to have Auggie at the babysitter’s by 6, since we’re going to see the Flaming Lips at the Pageant later that night. Over dinner, I mention the game to Tim and ask if he thought we could pull it off.

‘No.’

‘What’s wrong?’ I asked, a little taken-aback by his immediate refusal.

‘There’s no way I’m missing Funny Cide winning the Triple Crown at the Belmont on Saturday afternoon,’ he returned.

‘Oh. Sorry. I totally forgot.’ And then I called Susan with our regrets. Silly me.

Go, Funny Cide! I guess. I’m rather resigned that he is going to win the Triple Crown, mainly because I don’t really have strong feelings one way or the other. On the one hand, I love that his connections are longtime friends that bought him as a wee colt for only $75K. On the other hand, I hate his name more than any other Kentucky Derby winner that I’ve seen. Even more than Fusaichi Pegasus (who I still cashed on, despite his poor name).

I mean, c’mon! Silver Charm, Real Quiet, Charismatic, War Emblem? If these amazing horses, with their equally inspirational names, couldn’t do it, can Funny Cide?

Sigh. Probably.

And that’s what I’m reduced to, folks. Rooting against a Triple Crown winner because I hate his name.

Auggie has finally realized that he can also vocalize the dreaded n-word. No, not that n-word. I’m talking about “no.” As in, “no no no no no,” his current favorite phrase.

The funniest part is watching him experiment with “no.” Just about everything you ask him, and I ask him a lot of questions as he doesn’t say too many words just yet, he answers with “no.” Most of the time, it comes out as “no?” like he’s not really sure that he means no at all, but since it’s his favorite word right now, he’ll go ahead and give it a try. So I’ve been taking him at his word and not doing whatever it is I just asked him. This has been met with mixed results so far.

Scenario #1: I ask August if he wants to eat some Goldfish crackers as a snack. He says, “no” and we repeat, inserting the rest of the pantry contents in place of the Goldfish. This is especially entertaining when I get to the spice rack. ‘Would you like some tarragon?’ ‘No.’ Eventually, he ends up with some variety of cheese.

Scenario #2: I ask August if he wants to go outside. He says, “no?” and I say, “OK. Then we’ll just stay inside and watch “Barney.”” To which he replies, “Nonononono.” Then I ask again if he wants to go outside. “Yeah!”

Scenario #3: I ask August if he is sleepy. To which he firmly replies, “no.” He still gets up and goes over to Daddy, who scoops him up and spirits him away to his crib, where he instantly falls asleep.

Scenario #4: August is playing with some of my notes for my freelancing work, which he knows he is not supposed to do. Under his breath, I hear him saying, “No no no no.” It’s so darling, I find it hard to ask him to stop. I’m such a sucker.

Equally great is the way August says “yeah!” He sounds so dang enthusiastic. I love it! I’m soaking it all in like a sponge, so when he’s a cynical, stoic teenager, I can remember these times.

We went back to that same park today that I mentioned on Tuesday. The mallards ate banana chips directly out of my hand (only a couple, you anti-feeding, duck-defenders out there)! Auggie was cautiously intrigued by the ducks, but after the parrot incident at Petsmart, he is a little wary of birds.

What, I didn’t tell you about the parrot at Petsmart?

A couple of weeks ago, Auggie and I ventured to our local Petsmart to buy some Fishy-related paraphernalia. I enjoy taking Auggie to the pet store so he can check out all the wacky kinds of fish there are to choose from (although Petsmart has a pretty weak selection compared to some other fish-only establishments here locally, like the Pet Marketplace). He quickly tired of looking at the fish (none of which looked like his Fishy at all anyway), so we headed over to the bird section to check out that action. They had a big, beautiful parrot, so I started talking to it, saying, ‘Hello, birdie. Say hello, birdie. Hello.’ After a few seconds of this, the parrot suddenly said, ‘Hello!’

Auggie got the most terrified look on his face and nearly started hyperventilating with horror. I’ve never seen an expression so clearly say, ‘That was NOT supposed to happen!’ as that poor little man’s.

We quickly walked away, as the bird said ‘hello’ in three different voices in our wake. After we purchased our paraphernalia, I took him back to see the parrot again, just so he would not be scarred for life when it comes to talking birds. He did better this time, smiling at the twittering parakeets and giggling at the mice and hamsters in their little exercise wheels.

He kept his eye on that parrot, though, who, luckily, was silent.

I do love the Missouri springtime. Yesterday, it was humid, low 80’s, bugs multiplying by the minute. Today, it is cool, dry, mid-60’s. Lovely! We’ll take it!

So we spent part of the morning at the park, shying away from the overly-aggressive ducks. I couldn’t tell if they were just really tame and coming up to us, hoping that we might have some stray Goldfish crumbs that we had heretofore forgotten, or if they were coming to peck at us with fiendish glee.

We stayed away.

Oh my, life! Oh, my life! Oh my life!

All are applicable.

There are so many projects, so many lists, so many commitments! My brain has a hard time even getting itself around how much stuff there is to do, like, right now. And that’s not even counting fun things like blogging and reading and going to Grant’s Farm to feed the already-overfed baby goats.

A couple of my Derby highlights (to add to Tim’s excellent travelogue last week):

– Marc’s unexpected diatribe on the superiority of the red pepper over the green pepper. I heartily agree and am currently writing to my local government representatives about the abolishment of the green pepper immediately. All green peppers must remain on the plant until they are sufficiently red!

– Nearly walking out topless on my friend Kristin while she was playing with Auggie after an impromptu nap at our hotel. Thankfully, I thought to put on my shirt, as this was also the first time I had seen Kristin in nearly 2 years.

– Hearing Bob and Dave Berman playing Def Leppard at the (former) pinochle bar that is half a block from our old house.

Good times.

While perusing one of my regular weblog reads (Janeforshort, if you must know, although I am really at a loss as to why I read it regularly, as it is completely about people I don’t know at all, and is probably only interesting to them. Guess I’m just bored.), I noticed that her archives go back to November 2000. My first thought — first! — was,’Hm. That was back when I was still only one person.’

Isn’t that kind of weird? Just because I got pregnant at some point that month doesn’t mean that I stopped being one person. Or does it? Weird.

I’m simply not sure if I can recall a derby I’ve attended with more beautiful weather. Cool and partly cloudy with a nice breeze blowing. Auggie and I got up and wished off the rest of the crew dressed in their finery. Mostly because Auggie absolutely loved riding up and down the elevator at the hotel, saying, “DING” when the bell rang at each floor. As has become habit, everybody looked great, but I’d have to say that Bill won this years’ fashion award. The straw boater with the matching bow tie was just fantastic, and Lisa on his arm in a very cool 50’s-esqe dress would have put them right at home in the Turf Club.

We got a bit earlier start on Derby Day and headed out for the Downs at noon. This time we parked for free on the same street we did on Oaks Day. The secret would appear to be to completely ignore everybody that jumps out in front of your car. Since Auggie had fallen asleep on the way over (of course) Beth and I rolled down the window and did some handicapping. It was really cool because Beth hasn’t followed the horses at all this year. So her review of the past performances was completely fresh, something that I found invaluable since I’ve been paying attention since March. It was just a really nice time, actually talking horses with my wife.

Auggie started to stir, so we went to Bob’s. The film crew was out on the front porch, so I introduced Beth and Auggie to Jessica. Auggie then proceeded to steal the show doing all those cute things that kids do when they’re showing off. There was a point when Auggie was just sitting on the front steps watching the buses roll in and out across the street, and the camera just pointed at him for 3 or 4 minutes. I, of course, looked like the best dad in the world wearing my suit with my boy in one arm and a Budweiser in the other hand.

Then it was off to the Downs, we made it there before Three Chimney’s Juvenile, and I proceeded to have my biggest Churchill faux pas of my life. I’m at the window to pound on the eventual 6-1 winner. (Closed against the bias at Keeneland, ran a good time, and was the only one of the Pletcher horses to have his prep over a dry track. God I love the Juvenile.) I’ve set my julep up on top of the betting window, and when I’m done, I reach for it and it shoots out of my hand, flying down into the next betting window on my right, landing in front of the teller. It smashes into bits and falls to the ground. I’m mortified, there’s sticky julep all over the shelf in front of the teller, but thankfully, none on any of the patrons around there. The guy I’ve nearly smashed a glass on asks ME if I’m OK. “Yes, I am, are you? Yes, well good, I’m very very sorry.” I then just turned and walked away as quickly as I could. I didn’t go within 15 windows of that spot for the rest of the day. Though, as I said, I nailed the race, so I probably should have done it every time I was at the windows.

Auggie again wasn’t having any part of staying in one place again. It was a constant blur of motion. Down the betting concourse, up the escalator, down the escalator. Fortunately, after the Juvenile, we ran in to Chris, who reminded me we were due to meet in the paddock. We wandered for a bit before I remembered to look for Bill’s distinctive head gear. Once I did that, I spotted them almost immediately. Again though we were off, and I cashed my tickets, put money across on Quick Tip and back to the seats.

We were starving, and the food lines were pretty oppressive in the facility for very marginal fare. We really didn’t want to go through the tunnel to the infield, so we decided to head out of the track and stop for BBQ outside the downs. It was a good choice as we munched pork-chops, chicken breasts, and a couple of the best tasting hot dogs I’ve had in a long while. Auggie again was sweetness and light, freed of the madness of the crowd.

Lunch done, it was back to Bob’s where there was ping-pong in the backyard. Apparently he got this table down at Oaklawn and hasn’t lost a game on it since he’s owned it. Auggie had probably the best time of his day climbing up and down Bob’s back steps and playing peek-a-boo behind the back door to the house.

After a brief refresher, it was back over to the track, where I proceeded to lose yet more money on Perfect Drift. One year later, and still he takes my money. I finally get a chance to write up my bets for the Derby and take Auggie with me down to the windows to bet. I’d like for you to tell me how, 45 minutes before the Kentucky Derby, I’m able to walk right up to a window and place my derby bets with no waiting, and on the main level 50 feet from the paddock. There’s no chance in hell the derby had as many people there as they say it did.

When I laid my tri bet with Empire Maker keyed in second, that’s when Auggie started squirming. I used Funny Cide in third, but obviously he was trying to tell me to replace Ten Most Wanted with Funny Cide. Gotta remember to listen to the boy.

My Old Kentucky Home again made me bawl like a baby. Hell, I’m tearing up just thinking about it now. Now that it is our Kentucky home far away, it pounds me harder than ever. I fell in love to that song, got engaged to that song, changed my life to that song. It’s a powerful moment, even if you’re in the back row of the 200 level with it’s bunker like atmosphere where your view of the track is about 1 foot high between the roof and the heads of the people in front of you.

Then there was the Derby. What really can be said. The three fastest horses on Beyers and the Sheets ran in the top 3. Bailey blew the race with an arrogant ride and Frankel and Juddmonte blew the race with an arrogant post position choice. Force this horse inside, and you force Bailey to ride a tactical race. Oh, and how about that right turn that Peace Rules took out of the gate. He was in the 6 path the first time under the wire. I really do love the winner. It was an honest time out of an honest horse who easily showed the most grit and heart of any of the horses on the trail this year.

After the race, Beth went off to cash her ticket on Peace Rules, and by the time she had returned, Auggie had passed out hard. I don’t think it was all the juleps (kidding). Just a boy who was completely exhausted and felt the post-race let down of 140,000 people wash over him. He was conked. So we ducked up to the 300 level above us where the rest of the crew enjoyed this year’s races. We watched the race after the derby, and of course Marc hit it. It was then time for us to go. I walked out of the Downs and over to Bob’s house completely sober for the first time ever at the Derby.

We dallied for a few minutes, but then headed over to QDoba for some burritos to take back to the hotel for dinner. We were pretty fried. Beth and I figured we’d walked at least a couple of miles, and most of that time, carrying our hefty 27 pound baby boy. Beth had originally been on point for the post-Derby show, but decided that I should go out because she just couldn’t make it.

So I pull up to the Seelbach about 9:45 rocking out to Marc and Dan’s Post-Derby mix. Come in to find that though they’ve ordered their food over an hour ago, the crew there still hasn’t eaten. I get an Elmer T Lee at the bar and sit down to chat. The food finally arrives, so I head up to the upstairs bar to commune with the spirit of Max the bartender with a draught of his hand picked Buffalo Trace barrel.

Marc comes up and joins me with a George T. Stagg. After contemplating the wonderful bourbon for a few minutes, it was decided that it was time to leave. We took off with me behind the wheel of the silver tank. With a V8 under my foot, we make it to Headliners in no time at all, getting pumped to the Mix. We walk into Headliners just as Trans Am takes the stage. I walk to the bar and order 6 shots of Wild Turkey and 6 Budweisers. We need to get this thing started, right? To my shock, everybody makes a valiant attempt to choke down the shots, even Shannon and Kristin. A remarkable performance by everyone present! (Sorry Horsethrottle, I didn’t know your stomach was in the corner doing backflips.)

Just then as we stand by the elevated bar, Trans Am starts rocking the house. It was Derby Night and they were fantastic. They fueled the room with the synthesizer backed rock. Even assaulting with a dual bass attack at times. Halfway through, we found ourselves down on the floor, having a great time.

Then it was time for VHS or Beta, a band that I’d heard one song by over a year ago. I had no real idea what to expect, but they rocked my world. It was live techno/dance music, and once they started, they didn’t stop. We danced, and danced and danced. I haven’t danced like that since I was a sophomore in college at Shattered. By the end of the show, I’m down in front of the stage egging them on as they keep the pressure on. The crowd’s going nuts. It was blistering, just the thing you need to celebrate Derby night. They took one encore break for about 30 seconds and came back and ripped the place apart.

Well, I’m right against the stage in the very middle, have been going nuts right in front of them for the last 30 minutes of their set, and when they finish up the last chord, the guitarist in the middle hands the mike to me. Christ, that was about the last thing I’d expected. So really without thinking, I just said. “Happy Derby Ladies and Gentlemen”¦ and congratulations to the Kentucky Derby Winner, Funny Cide.” I figured that pretty much covered it, and threw mike down on the stage and walked out of the club.

Outside, I realized I could barely hear and was totally soaked with sweat. And oh yeah, I was sober again. Back in the beast and over to Freddie’s we went. Once we walked in, I remembered what drew us there in the first place. It’s the place where drunks go to die. The vibe was very dark and downtrodden. We got drinks, and I chugged a Coke to try and rehydrate myself. Coming up to the table, I saw a very whipped group. Just then, my phone rang, and it was Beth asking me to come back to the hotel because Auggie had woken back up. No problem, I think that’s where I’d like to be.

Postscript

For the next three days, my calves, neck, and abs were brutally sore from the VHS or Beta workout. We crawled home through a torrential downpour but were otherwise unscathed. It was a great trip to the Derby, and we had a fine time, but chances are it will be our last with Auggie for a while. While we think it would be neat for us to bring him every year, it’s really not about him. We both felt like we weren’t able to really spend our time with all the folks we only get to see once a year. Also, we won’t have to go looking through the phone book for somebody to go out with, we’ll have each other.

Happy Derby Ladies and Gentlemen”¦ And congratulations to the Kentucky Derby Winner, Funny Cide!

Sorry this has taken a bit longer to post than I had mentioned. I’m sure the anticipation has been killing you 😉

Oaks Day

Mmm, Heine Brothers coffee. Still the best around, with their fresh locally roasted beans, deliciously strong coffee, and the great muffins and scones. It’s a great way to start any day, and even better if it’s Oaks day. Also, we spent plenty of time browsing Louisville’s coolest bookstore, Carmichaels’, that’s right next door. Then we head down the street to Stevens and Stevens deli to pick up our lunch. Back to the hotel to see if the boy will nap (he won’t), we finally head for the track at about 1:30. Of course he fall asleep on the way there. We find parking on the street about 4 blocks from Bob’s in front of a house were a bunch 9-12 year old girls are playing on the front porch. They ask for $3 for the spot, and considering, the guys just down the street are charging $20 each, we agree. As we walk from the car, they’re rapping jump rope song type lyrics along to a blaring radio.

Auggie remains asleep in his stroller even as we carry it up to the front porch at Bob’s house. With him snoozing away, we say hello to all of the usual suspects. Marc and Frank again down from Boston joined by Tim S. We had a couple of extra Oaks tickets and Beth quickly played ticket broker offering them for the $25 that was already being charged for general admission. I watched the 6th go off and the horse I loved won for fun, ahh, the moral victories”¦ Finally, we had to wake Auggie up as we were scheduled to meet people in the paddock at 2:30 for a Derby ticket exchange.

As we entered the downs, Auggie was in a complete daze, with no idea of what was going on. As we walk toward the paddock, Beth spots a National Guardsman. Gotta be somebody important, right? Well, it turns out it’s former Miss America, Heather French, and her husband, current Kentucky Lieutenant Governor, Steve Henry. It was a bit of a scandal back in 2000 when they got married because it was a shotgun wedding, and now she’s preggers again. Mrs. Henry sees us spotting them, and comments on what a cute little boy we have. Beth then asked her how their little girl is doing and when the next baby is due. It was a bit of a surreal moment, talking the way we would with any mom you just might meet in a crowd. They just happen to be the likely next Governor and first lady of Kentucky. God I love this state.

Once we made it to the seats, Auggie made it pretty clear that he wasn’t really all that interested in sitting around. He wanted to go go go. So Beth and I traded off as he went tromping through the betting areas, playing on the stairs, and wanting to do loops up and down the escalator between the main and second floors. During one of these wanderings, I went down to the Julep stand and found that for the first year in the past 11 that not one of the “julep ladies” was working. The booth was staffed by kids from some vending service. They were nice and all, but I couldn’t help but feel as if one of my favorite traditions had been torn apart, replaced by some generic face, much like the new concrete façade on the back of the Grandstand.

I should point out here that we did not see Jack even once this year because of just this thing. He is apparently so bothered by this defacing of the Downs that he has severed most of his ties with horse racing. Bob said he was just being unreasonable, but when I found out I wouldn’t be laughing with the Julep ladies this year, it sunk in just how corporate this place has become.

I had a few moments capping with Dave before the Crown Royal and I pointed out to him that I thought Bird Town looked interesting in the Oaks. I put down my Oaks bets before the Crown Royal only playing Bird Town in second in the exotics. Since Auggie was done with the grandstand, we needed to get him out to run a little more. So we headed for the infield just after the Crown Royal. Unfortunately, I didn’t ever see any odds on Bird Town or I probably would have put some money on her nose alone. Oh well.

The infield was great, but really wide open. When we set up shop on the hill overlooking the first turn in 2000, the place was packed, but this year, there were open spots all over. The same held true in the grandstand, where, even on Derby day, if you went at the right times, betting lines were rarely over 5 or 6 deep. They say it was the 5th largest attendance, but it sure didn’t look or feel like it.

While out in the infield, I spotted a guy with a baseball hat that he’d had embroidered with phrase “Pat Day Sucks”. I said, “Nice Hat” and laughed. Well Auggie kept running around the area, and the guy got up and gave Beth a button with this phrase printed on it if I agreed to wear it. Of course I did, I mean hell, it’s the Churchill Downs infield right? Well, after getting some attention from it for a while, I decided there would be a great deal more comedy if Auggie were to be the one wearing it. We actually discussed the fact that some might view us as unfit parents because of this, but again, it’s the Churchill Downs infield right? Aren’t we already unfit parents just for having the boy out here?

We caught the Oaks from the open grass on the first turn, and you know what, it was pretty cool. Hearing the roar move down the stretch along with the horses is a pretty stirring experience. It’s so visceral, so raw, and so freakin’ loud.

After the race, we made our way back to Bob’s but not before being stopped by a Churchill Downs security guard who told us we couldn’t take our $2.75 bottles of Aquafina out of the Downs. We stared with incredulity. Are you sure that’s right? This isn’t liquor, it’s a half full bottle of overpriced water. Yep, nothing can be taken from the Downs. So we turned around, made a lazy U around to the other side, and I stuck my bottle in my pocket and walked out anyway. Oooh, rule breaker.

Back at Bob’s we met up with Dave and Shannon who were catching a ride back to the hotel with us. Auggie’s button was a huge hit, as he sat down behind metal barriers on the street and watched buses go in and out of Churchill. He loves buses right now, and he was so happy to just be waving “buh-bye” to all of them. Beth gathered me in despite my desire to linger, and we were on the road back to the hotel. We met up with everybody on the deck of Rocky’s Pizza and Calzones which was a block from our hotel and overlooked the Louisville skyline. We had OK food with a clearly overwhelmed waitress. I had to duck out a little early to return to the hotel with an obviously done Auggie. Beth returned shortly afterward, and we put the boy to sleep.

This night, Kristin and Marc hosted the party, and since it was the next room down from ours, we felt comfortable with both of us going. Well, almost. I realized I had left the diaper bag, our camera, our programs and DRF, and the stroller over at Bob’s. Pretty much everything I had taken there, so I really needed to get back over there before tomorrow. So I headed back to Central Ave.

When I got there, of course there were various random people hanging around, but I tracked down our old buddy Kevin who lives upstairs at Bob’s. We found our stuff and were hanging out talking about what was going on with everybody when Charlie comes walking in through the back. If you’ve ever been over at Bob’s on a Derby or Breeder’s Cup weekend, you’ve surely met Charlie. He’s an incredibly nice guy who does stand up comedy, and more than likely was very drunk and friendly when you were there. I’d always thought of him as just one of the various folks who shows up at Derby.

Well, in he comes, looking much trimmer, more groomed, and certainly far more sober than I’ve ever seen him on a Derby weekend. He comes up a gives me a hug and shakes my hand. Then he says, “I’d like you to meet my friend Jessica.” “Hi, nice to meet you,” says I, and shake her hand. Well the weird thing is, this whole time, they’re being followed by a guy with a TV camera who films this whole exchange. They head on by, and I turn to Kevin and ask, “What was that?” We duck into the kitchen and he explains that Jessica is Rosanne Barr’s daughter, and they’re filming for a new reality show staring Rosanne and her family, a la, the Osbornes. Charlie is one of the stars of the show. He’s been in California for 4 months and met Jessica while working on one show and was brought on as an on-screen guy for this one.

Later, everybody’s on the porch and Charlie and I start talking, both of us commenting on how much weight we’ve lost. He asks me how I did it, and I say Weight Watchers. Me too says he and gives me a high 5. Of course this is all caught on tape, so who knows, maybe a Jared-esqe advertisement for Weight Watchers is in my future.

Kevin tells me he’s been working at a bar that has been recently bought by a friend of his called Seidenfadens. Well, this place is a half a block up the street from our old house in Louisville. Turns out everybody was headed over there that night and Bobby and half of the crew are already there. I should come out if I get a chance. I tell him I’ll try, and jump back in the car to the hotel.

Back at the hotel, everybody is hanging in Marc’s room swapping stories and just kicking back. They decide to call it a night shortly after I returned at about 11. Once back to the room Beth talks about what a great time she had with everybody hearing stories that she’s never heard before. It’s pretty clear though that she’s amped, and when I tell her about Seidenfadens she wants to go out. She then proceeds to call everybody in our group at the hotel, and nobody will go. It’s almost midnight on Derby Eve and it looks like she’s run out of options because she refused to go out alone. But I keep pushing her, and finally, she gets a hold of Gary and his fiancé Elena who have just finished dinner and are on their way to meet Rich and his crew. Apparently Rich is so drunk, he’s had a hard time telling them where they were, and it turns out they’re at the Left Field Lounge. For our own reasons, we hate this place, but at least, Beth has some co-conspirators.

So out she goes at Midnight, and she sets a Derby record of about 20 minutes in getting a group of drunks to leave a bar. Arriving at Seidenfadens, Bob and David are acting as the DJ’s for a group of completely hammered 30 somethings and the local regulars. I believe she mentioned something about them playing Def Leppard. Beth orders “2 pitchers of your finest lager” and pays $11. She tried to talk with a few of the Central Ave. regulars, but most were so drunk, it was if they were moving in slow motion. A conversation she related to me.

“So where’s Tim?”

“He’s back at the hotel watching Auggie”

“Oh yeah, Auggie, he’s so beautiful… What a great little boy.”

“Thanks, thanks a lot.”

“So where’s Tim?”