Weekend of Cocktails.

Back in the day…..the 80’s I went to my first Kentucky Derby.
A dear dear friend of mine name Craig (who I call Mac because of his last name) knew I was in a funk from my divorce.
He lived near me and one day stopped by and as we talked he said, “You need to get away. I’m going to the Kentucky Derby this weekend why don’t you come with me.”

Well, now I have worked at the local race track for years in the summer with Mac.
I always needed an extra job because I never made enough money to live and to buy clothes and travel. I liked to eat and love to travel so must have that 2nd job.
I could travel for free but I needed $$ to spend when I got there.
So I worked evenings in the summer at the local horse race track.

I was a pari-mutuel in the clubhouse and I made more money there than I did at my airline job. 
Especially tips. Men love to tip you if you give them a winning ticket.
Pathetic that this job was seasonal and I made more there than I did at a very well known airline for a full year.
My point being I was around horse racing and I just didn’t really give a hoot. I did it for the money and the hours.
So I just didn’t think going to the Kentucky Derby would be fun at all.
Boy was I wrong!

So in 1983 I went to my first Kentucky Derby. 
Mac had been doing this for years.
He was driving and he said I could ride with him.
He had a hotel room and he would just change it to two beds. 
Sounded good to me.

His brother along with his girlfriend and another friend of Mac's and his girlfriend would be following us in another car and staying at the same hotel.
So off to the derby I go because frankly, I had nothing else to do.
I figured I was with people I enjoyed so what the hell. Better than my pity party that I was in that is for sure.

It was an 8 hr drive to Louisville from my home in PA.
Now the first week of May in my hometown is cold, dreary and still a bit like winter. Louisville was in the ’70s so I was thrilled to think we’d have sun. I pulled out the shorts, summer clothes, and tanning lotion.

The Derby was nothing like I thought it would be.
We were in the infield which I soon found out was a bunch of crazy young people drinking, serious drinking. 
Woodstock without the music, just the mayhem.(and mud)
I was young and soon to be crazy it appeared.
At the tender age of 27, I was seeing a lot of firsts.
I don't think I stopped smiling until I went back home.
I didn't think about my divorce situation once during that weekend.
It was exactly what I needed, Mac was right.

I had my first mint julep that weekend. Oooh ick!
I don’t like whiskey/bourbon and basically, that is what it is....bourbon on ice with mint.
But the glasses were great so as a kid with nothing left after a divorce kept drinking them so I had a collection of glasses to bring home for glassware and souvenirs.
It was fun and it was a full day of sun, drinking, napping (passing out?)on a lawn chair and getting sunburned. I was young and having a ball. 
I won a few races and met a lot of people having a good time.
Great way to get you out of your own funk. 
It also began a very long tradition.

It began to rain during the actual race. Now mind you we got there around 9 in the morning and the actual race was at 5ish. So imagine what shape most of those people in the infield are in by 5pm. Besides the day drinking, it began raining just before the Derby race at 5ish.  By the time we got to our car, we were completely soaked as though we took a shower with our clothes on. We were walking to our car for what seemed like an hour in the pouring rain. I was wrinkled like sitting in a bathtub too long.
My clothes were just stuck to me. 

We finally got to our car and began to navigate our way through the traffic to find our way to our hotel. As we were driving Craig asked me to get him his shorts out of his suitcase in the back seat. His jeans were so wet and stuck to him he couldn’t stand it. I dove in the back and got out his blue shorts as he requested. I climbed back up front and I gave him his shorts. We were stuck in traffic not moving at all, so he figured he would just change while we sat there. 
He began to change and told me to turn away.

I laughed and said, " I’m already looking out the window, you big weirdo."

I hear him saying, “Damn it. Oh shit.Oh God.”

I am laughing but really don’t want to turn around and see my friend who I have known since the age of 14 undressed. Oooh no!

He said in a panic tone, “Peg help me”

I turn to him and see that he can’t get his shorts up his wet legs they are stuck around his knees.
You know how you can’t get your clothes off and on when you’re wet.
Not to mention he obviously gained some weight since he last wore these and they are way too small. I suggest it may be they are just too small and he said, “no I haven’t gained that much weight it’s just that I’m wet.”
okay, you delusional man.....I just keep laughing.

In the meantime, a cop is walking to each car and talking to the drivers.
Mac is now panicked. But I can’t stop laughing.
I was trying to help him get these off him by pulling them down, when the cop comes to the window.
You all know what this must have looked like.
Yes, it looks like I have gone down on my friend Mac to this cop.

My fair skinned Irish friend is beet red with embarrassment.
I can’t stop laughing. I jump up and sit in my seat with this poor man with his wet legs and his shorts at his knees.
Craig tries to explain to the cop and I can’t make eye contact for fear of hysterical laughter. The policeman says, “I don’t care. I’m just making sure you’re sober and yada yada yada.” OMG – he does think I was blowing my friend for god’s sake. Eew! Thankfully Craig is sober!

In the meantime, his brother who is in the car behind us is now walking up to the car.
Mac yelled, “Peg please get out and see what the fuck he wants so I can get these pants off me. Don’t let him walk up to the car!”
Mac is yelling now and of course, I am still laughing like a lunatic.
What did it matter if Scott saw this? Scott would know we are doing nothing, just laughing at Mac for not getting his pants off his wet legs.

I jump out of the car and tell his brother that Craig wants to change his pants and I wanted to give him some privacy. His brother bought it. Poor Craig had to put his wet jeans back on because the nut didn’t bring any damn shorts that fit him.  Putting wet jeans back on his wet legs wasn't easy either but much easier than shorts that are 2 sizes too small.

Now as a woman we try things on if we think we’ve gained a few pounds over the winter. Even if I didn't gain the weight I'd try em on to be sure there were no issues. (hole? stains? fit? many reasons)
What would possess one to know you’ve gained weight yet you throw a pair of shorts in your suitcase that you haven't worn in at least a year? Silly boys.

The following year Mac asked me to go the derby but this time he has rented a 36 foot Winnebago and invited a bunch of his friends.
He charged like $120 for the weekend of food and booze and fun.
Sounded like a deal to me. I only knew Mac, his brother and a friend of his brothers who came the year before, with a different girl I might add.

The first hour or so everyone in the Winnebago is rather quiet and getting to know one another.
By hour 3 everyone is toasted and laughing, playing cards at a table, eating etc.
Mac drove down so no drinking for him. His brother drove back so he had to be the sober one on the way home. It was another great year and I got another 6 souvenir glasses for my collection at home.

The 3rd year I went I brought a friend of mine. 
Connie knew no one but me.
She loved it though.
Because you can’t bring liquor into the derby we had to devise other means of tricking them. They (security) searched our coolers and all our food so we had to be clever. 
Connie wore one of my bras. My bra on Connie was basically empty.
We filled up baggies of vodka and rum. She then filled my bra with the baggies of liquor.
Our cooler held the mixers so it all looked good, including Connie.
Connie now looks like she had a big ole rack. I laugh every time I see those pictures.
She couldn’t take enough photo’s of herself looking like that.
I lost that photo on my old computer when it crashed. I'd post it if I had it, because it is so funny. 

The 3rd year we camped at a campground called Big Bone Lick.
Seriously who named this place?
So as our 36 ft Winnebago pulls into this place loaded with 20 somethings drunks we found this pretty damn funny.

The 4th year Connie and I did our own Winnebago trip to the Derby.
She and I invited our friends. We made the food and bought the booze.
We enjoyed going with Mac but we knew we could improve on it and do it for less money.
We knew there had to be more than just beer and junk foods.
We planned great meals ahead.
We had mimosa’s for breakfast with steak, eggs and home fries on the day of the derby.
We had a full day of drinking we needed real food was our logic
We had a range of liquor and an enormous amount of food.
(we made meatballs for hoagies etc) 
We had tons of munchie foods and great evening dinner meals.
I made cupcakes and other junk so there was always food for everyone.
Unlike on Mac's where the trip home we had to stop places to buy some food.
One of Connie’s friends brought brownies that made all the food even better.   That made me worry.

I didn’t know most of Connie’s friends and her friends didn’t know mine.
Now to look at them they were night and day.
I was worried people wouldn't get along.
But as usual after the 2nd hour on the road it got loud and the laughter started, the music playing and it worked out well.

Connie’s friends tend to be more on the fringe shall we say.
Mine looked more corporate in comparison.
Her friends were the stoners and my friends were the jocks and pilots.
So when someone pulled out a joint my only thought was, “Oh dear God”
But the corporate types and the pilot were all doing things they don’t normally do.
Because I was driving I kept looking in my rearview mirror and just hoped it all would be okay. It was.
It was like what happened on this Winnebago stayed on this Winnebago.
The hookups, the brownies, the craziness.
These things never happened with some of these folks before or after.
We all just have our memories.

Fast forward to 30+ years later I am watching the running of the roses Saturday and saw some of the fools in the infield and thought, “I could no more do that again to save my life” What I thought was so much fun at 27, 28, 29 and even age 30 to me now would drive me bat shit crazy. The annoying drunks, the crowds, and the noise.
God, I am officially old huh?
I’d be yelling, “Get the hell off my blanket who the @#$* are you?”

I remember one year coming back from buying mint juleps for me and my friends.
There was a man/boy on my blanket passed out/sleeping.
I asked some others – "who is this guy? "
It’s like they all just saw him for the first time. No one knew him.

To make room on the blanket for us we gently rolled him over and over again until he was off our blanket. We just began to drink our mint juleps and rub on some tanning oil.
Poor guy, he could have been dead for all we know, we just moved him.

I can’t even fathom that today.
Yes, this activity is for the young and stupid, but I’m glad I got to experience it all.
Great memories that make this old fart smile.