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AN
UNEXPECTED TRIP TO THE OLD HOMETOWN
SCHENECTADY
AND BEYOND! |
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A Night at the Races
Saratoga Racetrack and Casino
Aunt Nicky and Uncle Dave had been talking about heading
out to the relatively new casino at Saratoga all week. Feeling a
little lucky (and really, when is it you don't feel lucky when you're
about to go to a casino???), I went all in and headed up in the smooth
riding Lexus for a night of gambling and drinking. I told myself
ten dollars was all I would lose. My grandfather imparted words of
caution to me, "If you get ahead, quit, they'll suck you dry."
When we got there, Aunt Nicky ran off with a lucky
twinge in her arm, leaving Uncle Dave and I to our own devices. He
pulled up to a quarter slot machine and went at it, I sat next to him,
let the machine eat my ten dollars and dropped to six bucks within
minutes. I cashed out, and Uncle Dave pointed me to Grandpa's
'Lucky Green Machines', the nickel slots auspiciously placed in the
center aisle. I sat down, and an odd thing started happening - my
nickels started multiplying. Again and again, my money was finally
working for me, after all these years of self imposed hardship as an
artist, I was finally winning and coming out ahead. I cashed out
around $18, bought a round of drinks, and still was ahead for the night.
We snaked around the casino, when I foolishly didn't listen to my
grandpa's advice and threw some of my remaining winnings on an almost
laughable money stealing device called penny slots. Basically,
there's 18,000,000 combinations of lines you can play on every given
hand, meaning your average bet becomes a ton more than the advertised
penny, and I quit within minutes. We found the big winner - Aunt
Nicky, who rolled up her sleeves and came back with $50, and headed off
to catch the end of the races.
The eleventh race was just starting when I found a
discarded racing book and perused the 12th and 13th. Immediately,
I felt destiny' warm guiding hand pulling me to bet on Adelia's Artist,
a 4-1 shot in the 13th. Two dollars later and I was scoping out my
pick for the 12th. As crowds of folks with dirty Jersey and Philly
accents stood by the Meadowlands telecast screaming at the horses in
racing slang which soon turned to traditional jersey cussing, I settled
on Action on the Road, a middle shot at 6-1, although the opening boards
put the odds higher, around 8-1. I chose to place a show bet,
hedging my winnings, but that's all the confidence I could muster.
As the 12th got started, Action on the Road started
well, and was middle of the pack saving that energy for the second lap.
As the horse made his move, my enthusiasm was slightly subdued when the
eventual winner tore past the pack and into the open home stretch.
It was a photo finish for 2nd and 3rd, and Action on the Road got the
nod, making my winnings $3.40 for the show pay off better than the place
bet.
| After I cashed in my earnings with
a big sh!t eating grin that made Uncle Dave laugh, I placed
another couple bucks on a longshot - C'Mon Bobelee to show up in
the 13th. The race started, I was cheering, and things
looked good - Adelia's Artist looked strong and seemed to be
hankering for a big win. As the second lap started,
nothing changed, except C'Mon Bobelee got involved in the action
and started making a late charge. Adelia's Artist sealed
up the victory, ensuring my winning payoff, and as the icing on
the cake came in a big way - C'Mon Bobelee finished second, and
my racing wins popped up to a stout $18.50 on the final race of
the night. With my mission not to lose ten dollars now
complete, we headed downtown to see what trouble we could stir
up there. |
Adelia's Artist - who would ever bet against an
artist like that? |
When we arrived downtown the place was abuzz, the young
pretty people who populate Saratoga Springs were out in force, the clubs
spilled out into the street and my Uncle, who pointed out the benefits
of New York's smoking ban en masse all week, complained about the second
half smoke on the sidewalk.
Nanny government only
goes so far in saving your soul (and lungs) I guess. We all
felt a bit old and settled into a small restaurant for some pizza
slices. It was good, especially at that hour, but my Uncle craved
more - barking, "I want meat!". My aunt, without missing a beat,
almost instantaneously responded by peeling off a pepperoni from her
slice and offered it to my uncle, casually asking, "have some?"
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Saratoga's Spring Water |
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Hathorn Spring |
run your mouse over this picture |
| Everyone who has every stepped foot
in Saratoga knows its a racing town, but the true pulse of the
city can be measured on its spring water. This vile
natural concoction of minerals and supposedly vitamins has
visitors from such strange and distant lands as Niskayuna,
Poughkeepsie, and Quebec lining up to taste its hearty and
violently distinct flavor. Some of those visitors arrive
and stand in line with empty gallon milk jugs, waiting for their
turn to fill them up with the elixir of life. I believe
some people are convinced the water has healing qualities, as
even as a child I heard stories of it curing cancer. I ran
off after my big night on the town and found a nearby spring
gurgling up the fabled water, and took as many sips (three) as I
could handle. It went down fine enough, but the almost
toxic aftertaste of nature's little treat lasted for hours.
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