The Preakness Stakes

I lived in the Baltimore area as a young man going to college and then staying for several years after. Being some of the most memorable years of my life, I return to them often when I am hankering for another trip down memory lane. 

The emotional peaks and valleys of that time were so much more intensely felt than any have been since. I hadn't been worn down yet. Breaking down the sharp edges were yet to come. Life was a big party and I was hard into it.

Life would not become the one foot in front of the other hum drum trip until later when child rearing, career building, and home owning demanded all my attention. Any loose dog heel kicking was restricted to a few days off here and there. I call those days my mellowing out period; the time of my life when I figured out what was important and what was not. 

Some people I have heard, call those practical days the boring years. They were hardly boring for me. I realized that slowing down and using a bit more focus was necessary to keep the mundane and practical from becoming the next personal crisis. Regardless, responsibilities and anxiety of just making it from pay check to pay check put a damper on the irresponsible and sometimes dangerous fun I participated in when I was single.

Recently, a good friend from that period in my life sent me some Kodak moments he snapped of the time we both were part of a Preakness Stakes celebration. Barney was pretty sure it was in 1976. I take his word on that because I did not remember the trip until I looked at my own sorry self looking at the camera from back then.

I immediately recognized myself in that Kodak moment. I was wearing my classic one piece summer outfit; some paint splattered green overalls I had cut the pants and sleeves short on. I often wore them when in barefoot leisure mode; usually on weekends and not slaving away for "the Man". If I was wearing those cutoffs, I was probably inebriated in one form or another, about to become inebriated, or I was seriously looking forward to becoming inebriated.

Back in the 1970s, 50,000 or so horse racing fans invaded the infield of the Pimilico Race track on every 3rd Sunday in May. They were there to celebrate the Preakness Stakes, the 2nd race in the Triple Crown competition. The two day event allowed locals and fools from away to mingle and get falling down wasted together. 

The infield at Pimlico had no rules. It was anarchy, almost. The only rules, don't step through the hedge that separates the track from the infield. And ferchrisakes, use the tunnel under the track to go to the Grandstands.

Folks brought with them wagons packed high with blankets, lawn chairs, BBQ's, Ice chests full of cool refreshing drinks, and boxes of burgers, buns, and hotdogs. Some people back packed their party supplies in.  The lazy, spur of the moment fans picked up a bucket of chicken to go with that case of beer. 

Everyone wanted a wonderful day in the Sun filling their bellies and wasting their minds. Alcohol of every kind flowed like water. By the time the Preakness Race happened, many of the hardy partiers had passed out on their blankets or just face down in the grass. Baltimorons knew how to party, that's for sure. They just sometimes did not pace themselves very well. Preakness was an all day commitment.

In contrast, over in the Grandstands, the fancy folks in debutante dresses, Jackie Kennedy hats, and white gloves, sipped cocktails sporting umbrellas while looking down their noses at the Blue Collar peasants whoopin it up in the infield. By late afternoon though, mutual alcohol intake tended to even the playing field, and there were actually moments of hand shaking, back slapping and smiles exchanged freely between the Haves and the Have Nots.

These moments of friendly co-existence were few and far between. Batimorons might party together if the occasion warranted it, but never would any brief moment of multi-culture congeniality break the hard and fast barriers created so many years ago. People returned to their day to day lives in neighborhoods separated from each other by street names and walls of social and economic hierarchies.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ..............................

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Music, music, music ................ Hmm

Earlier today while I master cheffed my way around the kitchen, I decided to use my Youtube video feature on the TV to play some music. I often play music rather than punish myself with the latest bad news or my 100th veiwing of "Antiques Roadshow in Los Cruces". Today I reaquainted myself with Edvard Grieg's, "Peer Gynt - Morning mood". 

It is an awesome piece of Classical music I was first exposed to in an Elmer Fudd & Daffy Duck cartoon at some Saturday Matinee at the local movie theatre. Elmer is sitting in his duck blind at Dawn. You know it is Dawn because this music tells you so. Daffy makes an appearance at some point, but there is no denying "Morning Mood" is the perfect musical description of Dawn.

My father would play this occasionally and I was able to hear it live at a Classical concert for kids at the DAR Hall in Washington, DC when I was in 3rd grade. My mom went as well as a class chaperone. That was a unique gesture from my mom. She normally did not volunteer for much. 

Here is "Morning Mood" played as Elmer Fudd waited patiently to shoot Daffy Duck and many years later, played at an outdoor concert in Vienna in 2015.

Enjoy.

(Began this post - 4/2025?)