I committed blasphemy once before, and managed to dodge the lightning. That experience gives me the courage to confess to this one, even though it is a deeper, and to many, more offensive blasphemy.
Today is a serious religious ritual for the devotees of Equus like my beloved- The Kentucky Derby. I was never a horse person before meeting Ginger; I have since learned that the animal hierarchy goes cats, people, horses. For that, and other family tradition reasons, the Kentucky Derby is a ritual at our house, one I've come to enjoy very much. I love the food- last year we had burgoo; this year hot browns. I love examining and selecting horse for the family betting. I love the hats and outfits. (I almost picked the winner on the basis of the jockey's silks looking like the Star Trek logo.) I love almost everything about the Derby.
There's just one dark cloud in this glorious sky: the Mint Julep. I cannot abide Bourbon. To finish a Julep would require from me a greater control of the gag reflex than that demonstrated by Linda Lovelace. So throughout the festivities I consumed Martinis. Wait, I tell a lie- some of them were Gibsons. I confess it! When the trumpet sounded "To The Post", I saluted with a Martini!
I'm sure most UUs will forgive me; we're good with blasphemy. But I'm not a fool- I'll give it a month or two before entering a Kentucky congregation.
2 comments:
Although I *do* seem to recall that both you and Jill finished a mint julep the year the Derby was the day after Dad's memorial service
You taste your mint juleps? That's what the straw is for.
CC
who things that Calvin Borel is becoming the James Cameron of the derby. And she doesn't mean that as a compliment.
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