The Big Race

The other day I attended the Toyota Bluegrass Stakes at Keenland Racetrack in Lexington, Kentucky. To say that it was crowded is an understatement. 40,000 (a track record) of us squeezed into a facility that is designed for about half that many. I now have a great deal of empathy for sardines.

           

As I stood there wedged in between silk-skirted blueblood coeds and white trash-gamble-at-all-costs track squatters, I got the sense that the day was more about being seen and horsing around than seeing the horses run around the medium-fast track. People of all walks of life were sandwiched in every possible space one could imagine. Had anyone sneezed, we would have exploded over the rail and onto the track itself. I have been in far bigger crowds, but none so densely packed into such a small space. Keenland needs to rethink its crowd control for future events.

As a disclaimer I should say that I won a rather large amount of money on a $5 bet in the second race of the day, then put my earnings, as well as my credit cards away for the rest of the day. But others did not.  I saw one guy in tears, as was his wife, for they had lost a great deal of money. I heard her say to a friend (you couldn’t help but hear what people were saying in passing conversations because we were so close together) that he had gambled almost all of their savings away. That is truly sad. Another couple had separated at the track, and she was telling a former UK classmate that she was going to file for divorce on Monday. (Not sure that was Keenland’s fault, but our proximity did make it my unofficial business as I slipped past trying to get a drink.)

I saw only two people removed for drunk and disorderly behavior, which was because it was so crowded you couldn’t get to the bars fast enough to get drunk. And going to the restroom, forgetaboutit. It would have been easier getting a nuclear bomb inside a Federal courthouse than managing to cue up and get inside a restroom.

And as I stood there with every make and model of humanity pressing against me, I realized that we had one thing in common. We were free to be there.  We had the right to be that miserable. We had the freedom to choose to come to an overcrowded, packed racetrack and be compressed into each other for the sake of a sport. (Well, and for gambling.)

I looked around at one time and realized these were all Americans. Forget about their problems or their gambling, marital or drinking issues.  They were brothers and sisters of the Union. And that got me to thinking about the election that is coming in November. People, like the ones I was crushed next to, will be joining me in selecting our leaders for the future. 

Now, I don’t care for whom you vote. That is not the point. The point is we are all different.  We all have our hopes and our fears– our likes and dislikes – our wants and needs. And while they can be as different as night is from day, in the end we will all be part of that giant crowd the day after elections. We will be part of the tapestry humanity that makes us Americans.

So this year, lets try and work together and be united behind whomever wins: Mitt or Obama. (Assuming they are the horses led to the starting gate in a few weeks.) Let’s make it a point to come together in a giant sea of humanity and hoist a flag and chant, “U.S.A.” at the top of our lungs for four years in unison. And when some of our leaders in Congress or the Senate start to become vile and rude, let’s tell them to shut up. It is time for the voices of the people from the great crowd of America to speak.

 

Go to the window, ladies and gentleman, and place your bets on November 3. 

Then win or lose, enjoy the race.