No Pants, No Hat, No Gambling

My summer stent in California lead me to the more than famous, opening at the Del Mar Horse Races.

I may not have had an “upity” pants suite to wear, like Vivian did in Pretty Woman in the Polo Scene.

And I may have been the only woman who wasn’t prepared with a big floppy hat.  I did borrow one for a moment in route to the event, but knew as a southern woman I should have packed one for myself.

After an hour drive to the massive parking lot at the Del Mar Track, while everyone in our group was laughing, talking and just having a grand ole time, silently I was praying.

Why you may ask?

Horses are beautiful creatures, I’ve ridden them as a child and respect their existence.  Yet I feel torn at times, when riders whip horses in order to direct them.  I knew there would be ample whipping going on during these races, so I sent my small prayers of love to each and every horse that would be struck in order to win the race.

I also recall the last horse race I went to as a small child; where the blue ribbon winning horse was doing the final walk to cool down.  He collapsed and died on the spot. So my final prayers were for the health and safety of these beautiful creatures.

Borrowing a big floppy hat, sending my prayers into the universe, I put on a happy face and joined the madness at the track.  Drinks were flowing and the the track echoed with the very loud voices of thousands of conversations.  Some in our group did make formal bets, but nothing big.

How is gambling illegal everywhere but at horse races, Vegas and Atlantic City anyway?

I’m not a financial gambler, but I did participate in throwing in my guess of which horse I thought may win with to my friends.

There was at lot at stake for many who were gambling, they didn’t need to directly tell you they had bets in, as their screams, hoots and hollers were evidence enough.

Although horse races aren’t really my thing, I must say I had a blast…but it was the people with me that made it so.

Drinks were flowing, jokes were told, stories were shared, yells, growls, and everything in between were shouted out…as the horse races aren’t a silent place at all.

It was really like a big frat party, but everyone wore high end clothes, funny hats and seemed to really love the races when really it was the party they liked.

I’m glad I got to experience such a fun adventure in my journey of Passport to Living; yet it will probably be the last race I attend…it’s just not my thing.

How do you feel about people riding horses, whipping horses, or racing horses???

Join the Adventures of Passport to Living with Me!!!

Join the Adventures of Passport to Living with Me!!!

You have Successfully Subscribed!