I am sorry to say that my credibility as a writer and gentleman of the south has come into serious question. The Kentucky Derby, the storied Run for the Roses, one of the most dearly loved southern traditions has come and gone without so much as a single written word from me. I am ashamed. Not only is this a beloved piece southern, and, indeed, American culture, but it is also a celebration of my favorite potent potable – Bourbon. The saddest part is that I had been preparing for it. I had done my research, made my handicaps, polished my julep cups, gone through several drafts for posts, and when the time came to pull the trigger, nothing. I didn’t even watch the race (well, not live anyway.) Life just got in the way. There is, of course, no excuse for this, and there must be major atonement before I feel fit to sip bourbon from a silver cup once again.
I thoroughly enjoyed seeing the posts from all the numerous sources I follow that covered the Derby. Garden & Gun did a great job with write ups leading up to Churchill Downs. Brooks Brothers had exquisite seersucker all lined up for Derby Day. Vineyard Vines was at Lexington in force. But alas, this year, I did not participate at all.
Congratulations to American Pharaoh for the Derby win. Not that it matters, but my picks did well too. I never like picking the favorite. It’s too obvious, the odds are never good, and it’s just not as much fun. I had both Dortmund and Firing Line to show (meaning make it into the top three… one of my favorite bets, as it requires significant research, but not the meticulousness that comes from those pros who win trifectas… with no small amount of luck.) so had I placed a bet, I would have walked away a winner.
I am considering wearing a white linen suit to work as a way of making up for my lack of a southern drawl this past weekend. Any other suggestions for retribution would be greatly appreciated and heartily entertained.