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.