Saturday, May 01, 2004

Yo, yo, yo, check it, this native son got to get his Kentucky Derby on up in here today, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

The Derby is a truly magical moment. Reminds me of my beloved Fourth of July races on the Village Green in Winnetka, Illinois. And not just beloved because I used to win most of them. (Stretch, long inhale, tooth-suck, groan, exhale into chuckle-of-confidence)

It's as if I can smell the dewey freshly mown grass and the hint of cotton candy and hear the perfectly slightly off-key brass band. It almost brings back the before-race butterflies. The thinking usually went something like;

"If I can win again this year, and pin that red, white and blue ribbon with the gold-shield medal to my chest one more time, maybe Karen Dean will finally fall hopelessly in love with me. Yep, this is the summer."

The Derby and the Winnetka Fourth of July races are both at once purely American and the purest essence of sport wrapped into one.

When they play "My Old Kentucky Home" somewhere my Mother will be crying and my Dad will be saying; "Oh, Ann . . ."

Ogle the Google
Google's stock is now trading. They asked President Bush if he had ever Googled and he said; "Yeah, with Lavoris."

We kid the president. As a true Independent, I would do more jokes about John Kerry but the guy just ain't all that funny. Once you do the "Why the long face?" that's about it for that stiff. Comedy-wise, this guy John Kerry makes Al Gore look like Al Green.

"When times are good or bad, happy or sad . . ."

Since you asked:
When did the terms Muslim Extremists, Muslim Militants, Muslim Radicals, Shiite and Sunni become French for what they really are? Terrorists. Whatever happened to the term: the truth will set you free? We spend our time trying to figure out how not to offend groups that spend their time figuring out how to kill us in horrible ways. We need some folks to find their New York City gear . . . up in here.

(Polite applause)

Yep, another A.C. story. Apologies.
This morgan, I was sent to fetch a bagle for Miss Thing, our five-year-old Ann Caroline. When I got back, apparently she was hungry. She was standing at the door with her hand out and she said:

"Yahoo. Bring the love."

I ask youse, is the knucklehead gene dominant? Apparently.

Good night, drive carefully and tip your cocktail waitresses.

Peace out. (The Sammy Sosa two-finger-double-smooch-heart-tap-and-point)