Those of you in so cal may have mistakenly thought I was referring to Kanye West's opinion of Glyn after he heard about the little mishap with a film clip and subsequent commentary a few weeks ago... not to worry though.
Sinister Minister is a horse. "A legitimate monstrous exhibition of raw speed reminiscent of Spend A Buck and War Emblem." Yes, kids it's here, the 132nd Run For The Roses, the first jewel in the triple crown of thoroughbred horse racing, The Kentucky Derby.
Mark and I attended last year and just received an invitation to attend The Oaks, which Louisvillians sometimes refer to as "our derby" a sister event to the Kentucky Derby that takes place the day before.
To further illuminate you (I can hear you begging to be illuminated) about the derby experience, you must appreciate the following details and otherwise superfluous info:
* Mint Juleps = signature drink of the Kentucky Derby (sugar, water, Kentucky bourbon whiskey, sprig o mint) very tasty.
* Millionaires Row = large suites, meeting/banquet rooms that over look the track where celebs and fancy people hang out.
* Hats = ladies generally wear a hat to Derby. There are really no rules other than it should be worn 1 inch above your eyebrow and not on the back of your head. Other than that, anything goes, the bigger the better.
* Wagering = you'd have to hang out with a hardened horse track afficionado to learn all there is to know.
* the infield = the inside of the track where the real party is, think of a giant, out of control tail gate party.
* KY Derby Post Parade = right before the race, the horses walk to the post as the entire crowd sings "My Old Kentucky Home"
* Silks = colors the jockeys wear so you can distinguish the 16-20 horses racing on the track
So upon news of the invitation to Oaks, I set out to get a hat. As a Shanks, I have forever been plagued with giant sasquatch like feet and hands. My head, as I have recently been made aware, is just as big. Picture me trying on beautiful hats that pop off my head as soon as they are set upon it. After much stretching, (hat people's polite euphemism for "make a hat for freakishly big head girl") I bought one that actually stays on my head.
And to give you a sense of just what it is like - picture thousands of people (who have enjoyed more just a couple of mint juleps) singing this tune before the "two most exciting minutes in sports" ...
My Old Kentucky Home
by: Stephen C. Foster
The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home
'Tis summer, the people are gay;
The corn top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom,
While the birds make music all the day;
The young folks roll on the little cabin floor,
All merry, all happy, and bright,
By'n by hard times comes a-knocking at the door,
Then my old Kentucky home, good night!
Chorus
Weep no more, my lady,
Oh weep no more today!
We will sing one song for the old Kentucky home,
For the old Kentucky home far away.
They hunt no more for the 'possum and the coon,
On meadow, the hill and the shore,
They sing no more by the glimmer of the moon,
On the bench by that old cabin door;
The day goes by like a shadow o'er the heart,
With sorrow where all was delight;
The time has come when the people have to part,
Then my old Kentucky home, good night!
Chorus
The head must bow and the back will have to bend,
Wherever the people may go;
A few more days and the trouble all will end
In the field where sugar-canes may grow;
A few more days for to tote the weary load,
No matter, 'twill never be light,
A few more days till we totter on the road,
Then my old Kentucky home, good night!
Anybody want to put some money on Sinister Minister?
