pre 2019
muse-letter \’myüz-‘le-tər noun
1: a personal message, inspired by a muse of one's own creation, in the course of which, the sender becomes absorbed in thought, especially turning something over in the mind meditatively and often inconclusively.
2: a letter from one who envisions oneself as a poet as such, "musing" on that which is perceived to be news, or newsworthy, usually in some ironic or absurd way.
The 150th Kentucky Derby
May 4th will mark the sesquicentennial of this long cherished American pageant. The so called “Run for the Roses.” Dubbed as such since 1925 by a New York Times writer, as the winning horse is traditionally blanketed in roses.
To put in perspective how long this event has been an integral part of the American culture, here are the nine runners-up within the top ten.
145 Years: Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show (Yes, this is considered a sport)
141 Years: U.S. Open (Tennis)
127 Years: Boston Marathon
119 Years: World Series
95 Years: The Stanley Cup Playoffs
83 Years: NCAA Division I Men’s Basketball Tournament
75 Years: The NBA Playoffs
63 Years: Daytona 500
56 Years: The Super Bowl
source: twinspires.com
On the flip side of time, ironically, the Kentucky Derby being short as it is, has been called "The Most Exciting Two Minutes in Sports." If you’ve ever attended a racetrack with even your most minor bet in play, such a claim might not seem hyperbolic.
Yet... horse racing. Not your bucket of oats? Nor mine really. Though for a while almost sixty years ago, it was very much so. Young punks going out to the “Big A” (Aqueduct Racetrack), and handicapping the horses, was a coming of age ritual in my neck of the urban woods. Making small bets, but feeling like big men. And while I’ve never attended a Kentucky Derby, I did win one once by way of
an OTB betting parlor; a New York City emporium—150 of them at their height —that had its run from 1971 to 2010.
That $2 bet on Canonero II in the 1971 Derby, paid $59! And I still talk about it when Kentucky Derby time comes around. I congratulate myself for having had the foresight to see that this horse, who had only run in South America and was unknown here in the states, had won at courses longer than that of Churchill Downs in Kentucky. In effect, running under the radar. And the horse became sort of a folk hero; so unexpected was his victory. He’d go on to win the Preakness as well, but failed at the “Triple Crown” by losing in the Belmont.
That was all then, and this is now. The sport has been in decline for decades. Aside from big events like the Derby, attendance at racetracks is abysmal. A piece in The Economist last year headlined, Is horse racing in America on its last legs? Noting that “More than 40 tracks have closed since 2000. In 1989 there were more than 74,000 races. Last year there were only 33,453.” This is due to the many challenges the sport has had to face, which have included controversies initiated by animal rights groups, concerning horse welfare and safety. And therein lies a heavy debate, that could stop a race in its tracks.
Yet the Kentucky Derby is immune from all this. Over 150,000 are expected in attendance this year as last. And with Derby viewership in 2023 on NBC And Peacock being the Most Watched Sporting Event Since Super Bowl, averaging nearly 15 million viewers, that too is expected to be exceeded this year.
Each year at Kentucky Der by time especially, the horse draws my attention for its beauty and power.
Contradicting a proclamation just a month ago that I am not particularly taken with nature, this is a rather remarkable animal of which I am in awe. As I once tried to express.
Unnatural Selection
As if the very existence of the horse itself
in all its majesty
and fortuitous utility
whose foal can stand in the hour of its birth
then gallop in clover
by sunrise tomorrow—
as if that were not enough
we put wings on one
and a horn on the forehead of another
in need somehow of our own creation.
In need of my own creation, I will pick Forever Young at odds of 10-1 (as of this writing), to win the Derby. When I thought I would stay forever young, I picked Canonero II in ’71. Similarly, Forever Young is a "foreigner" owned by the Japanese, and has only run five races previously. Winning them all. Though never in North America. He will be ridden by jockey Ryusei Sakai, of Japan, who is a young rising star in the racing world. This will be his first Derby. And will he like Japanese compatriots Shohei Ohtani and Yoshinobu Yamamoto, who have hit paydirt on a baseball field in Los Angeles, hit paydirt on a track in Louisville? Although horses slotted in the 11th post position, as Forever Young is, have only won the Derby on two occasions. The last in 1988. The odds seem long indeed.
I won’t bet on it. (Betting online requires "opening up an account" and other complexities). Nor sip a mint julip as I watch. Nor hum along with the strains of "My Old Kentucky Home" (a controversial song in its own right). And will save any thoughts on just how humane is horse racing, for another day. And maybe finally getting around to reading Monty Roberts’ book, The Man Who Listens to Horses, published in 1996 and on the Times Bestsellers list for 58 weeks. In effect, hearing it right from the horse’s mouth?
In the meantime, with Martha Stewart having the honor of giving the “riders up” order as the grand marshal at the Derby this year, let those two minutes begin!
Quote of the Month
Word of the Month (Newly Concocted)
Most months I will come across a word in the course of my readings, online or in print, that for one reason or another, I find interesting. In that, I'm either unaware of its meaning, or if aware, have never seen it used in a particular context. Sometimes just the construct of the word itself, the sound or feel of it, is enough for me to deem it the "Word of the Month."
But recently I found myself using a word that I was very familiar with, but doing so incorrectly. Going far beyond its literal meaning. That word being, gaslighting. Applying it to maddening, frustrating situations, where facts don't win the day. Like for example, when trying to rectify a problem that has arisen through some sort of electronic transaction that has gone awry for one reason or another. As did a payment of a credit card balance a couple of months ago. Which I won't bore any one with the details. And really, who hasn't had a credit card issue crop up at one time or another? ("Honey, did you but a Mercedes a couple of weeks ago?")
Undoubtedly, our apps and the ability to conduct our personal tasks electronically, have made our lives so much easier and unencumbered than in the "good old days." Except... when something goes wrong. And let's not even discuss scams. No, just something like money inadvertently being transferred from a wrong account for example. Which at such times, after checking out the Frequently Asked Questions section—within which your particular issue is never addressed—or the automated voiced options on your phone which don't apply, you might think... if only I could get a real person on the phone. Surly this snafu could be rectified in a moment. And even after jumping through hoops, and you finally do, it isn't always the case.
The cartoon-like or heavily accented answering voice (and please, it isn't racism, or any "ism," to make such an observation), is not understanding, or worse, not accepting the facts you are presenting. Nor the logic you are advancing as to how the matter arose in the first place, and how it can be cleared up instantly. I would cry "GASLIGHTING" at the call's conclusion, almost an hour later with the issue still not fully resolved. I was just gaslit! Shit! But that's not it.
Gaslighting is "a colloquialism, loosely defined as manipulating someone into questioning their own perception of reality. The expression, which derives from the title of the 1944 film Gaslight, became popular in the mid-2010s. Merriam-Webster defines it as 'psychological manipulation' to make someone question their "perception of reality" leading to 'dependence on the perpetrator.'" This esteemed dictionary called it, the Word of the Year in 2022.
But what I have experienced frequently enough, isn't that. I am not being manipulated to question my own sanity. But more being victimized by disembodied stupidity. Something that there isn't a word for. So I've made one up. Or at least have created a verb form of a word that has only existed as a noun.
automatoning au·tom·a·ton·ing /ôˈtämədən,ôˈtäməˌtän/ing
verb
1: acting as if a machine or control mechanism designed to follow automatically a predetermined sequence of operations or responses as instructed
2: unable to deviate from training, in addressing unique situations despite being given unequivocal evidence of the need to do so.
Used in a Sentence
Can you stop automatoning me by saying, "I understand"... "I understand"... "I understand," when obviously you don't!
There will never be a film made of this ala Gaslight staring Charles Boyer. But if there ever is, may I suggest Automatoned! starring Larry David.
"I've been automatoned again," Larry shouted to Leon as he hung up the phone. With memories of the "Curb" episode when he was yelling and cursing at Siri, because "she" wasn't getting what he was asking for.
The Where-were-you-when O.J. Saga
It really was one of those moments, when we first heard. And saw.
Which was shown repeatedly in media outlets far and wide last month with the death of O.J. Simpson. Along with much commentary on the long-term impact those murders and that murderous trial of eight months, had on the American psyche. Connections are still being reasonably made, as to their sociological and political impact. And the documentary on those events first shown in 2016, have been reshown by way of Netflix throughout the month. The heavenly rise and demonic fall of O.J. will never be old news. Never be a footnote.
I knew where I was in those days, but I went back to have a look in my journal. As I said before in a poem about journal-keeping...
I do this to remind me
Not so much of where I’ve been
But what was on my mind while I was there.
Here are a few brief passages I found regarding some seminal moments throughout this saga. Which I offer excerpted and unedited, in the spirit of "Did you see it that way too?" Not that there is any great wisdom or insight here. Or that the writing is anything to write home about. For better or worse... one man's reaction in real time. Before time could get put through a prism and come out in an array of colors, never seen in the original moment. Before false narratives of memory get rewritten.
June 14, 1994
Tuesday 3:05 PM
It appears at this point, that O.J. Simpson, an icon on the American Scene—sports hero in college and the pros, network sportscaster, ad spokesman and actor—is the prime suspect.
They were murdered on Sunday. That evening he went to Chicago (to establish an alibi?)The story slowly unwinds like a Columbo plot. And they just noted on ESPN, something I have been saying for the last day. He is probably the most famous person in the history of— not just sports— but America, accused of a capital crime!
Maybe now we can forget this Hero Worship that is so much the hype of the American Media Scene...
What else?
Henry Mancini died today...”Moon river
Off to see the world
There’s such a lot of world
To see”
June 17, 1994
Friday 11:30PM
O.J.
A most bizarre day. O.J. Simpson due to turn himself in at 11AM, fled. O.J fugitive from justice. O.J. found driving with friend Al Cowlings in a white Ford Bronco. O.J. pursued, tracked, for 60 miles as he is being driven back to his Brentwood home. O.J. a suicide note? O.J. putting a gun to his head while in the van. O.J. negotiating from the van? O.J. giving himself up. O.J. arrested. O.J. in mug shote. O.J. the most incredible story of modern times.
Everyone says the same thing: if you wrote a script, this incredulous, no one would believe it.
We watch the end of the O.J. story for today. Oh what more weird twists will tomorrow bring? Oh Southern Cal with your demented upheavals; one story more outrageous than the other.
November 5, 1994
Saturday 7:30Am
O.J. jury has been selected. Would you believe 8 African Americans, 2 Latino, 1 Native American and 1...count ‘em folks 1 Caucasian. What are the odds on a conviction? Not to put this in a simple racial formula, but the pundits, based on preliminary research, were saying that with 4 blacks on the jury, chances of conviction were nil. Is someone black going to acquit just because they are black? No. But subconsciously it might be difficult to convict. Let’s put it this way: if the jury wound up being 12 white women would anyone claim a balanced jury?
October 2, 1995
Monday 8:30PM
Then after less than a day of deliberation, inexplicably—stunningly—the O.J. jury has a verdict. We will hear it tomorrow at 10AM. The deliberation actually took 2 hours 21 minutes, plus another hour of replayed testimony. Is this possible? It has confounded all the experts. Yet given all that has happened, the experts are at it again. Given that they wanted just the prosecution part of Alan Park’s testimony— the CW seems to be GUILTY.
October 3, 1995
Tuesday 9:45PM
NOT GUILTY!
And so much for conventional wisdom. We will all remember this time; this day. Once again another surreal day in LA. We all held our collective breath this morning at 10AM. I in my office, the old Black & White TV on—about a half dozen people or so in my department crowded around. What would it be? And almost in passing: ”...yadda, yadda, yadda...find not guilty”...a gasp...tears from the Goldman family—no. Make that sobs. And out in the streets the disenfranchised down by the court building jumping around, whooping it up, as though O.J. had just scored a touchdown. My reaction? How could you come back with that verdict? Where’s the deliberation? Where is the struggle to go beyond a shadow of a doubt. The postmortems...most people feel almost ill; some angry, some—no most—stunned. Not blacks necessarily—and I listen to the radio talk shows.
October 5, 1995
Thursday 11:55PM
The post coverage every bit as intense as the pretrial coverage. In fact as I write, I watch Koppel’s Nightline special...I am becoming more depressed...I realize even more how far apart the races are in this country. The dialogue is so polarized.
* * *
And one day, it would all get worse. This polarization that now exists within almost every facet of human endeavor. And if the scene of a slow-speed chase of a white Bronco seemed surreal? There would be unimaginable days in the future that would top this. And given the way, We The Species seem to be devolving, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
With Apologies to Jimmy Cannon, Yet Again
Nobody Asked Me But...
I won’t buy a light bulb that will outlast me.
If Wolf Blitzer were a sport, it would be Curling.
There’s too much cotton in those small-sized containers of medications.
When birds fly in V-formation, how are those decisions made?
Climate change in New York is obvious if you grew up here and are now a senior citizen.
I’m skeptical of vitamins that come in gummy form.
I hate when celebrities go on about their kids, as if no one has ever had kids before.
It's hard to imagine that there once was an Ed Sullivan show.
I get people who need to smoke; but not people who need to vape.
June Lockhart is still alive.
People buried in their cell phones while walking, still bug me after all this time.
P.J. Clarke's on 55th Street takes Mac 'n Cheese to another level.
I’ve never seen a mortally wounded character in an opera, die in under ten minutes.
Vanilla is the most underrated flavor.
Pound for pound, The Wizard of Oz is the best movie ever made.
How can a Central Park carriage horse be so strong eating only oats?
Whatever happened to Susan Boyle?
Doctors seem more puzzled in making a diagnosis than they used to be.
I never met anyone who lived in North Dakota.
When are we going to get rid of pennies?
A martini is only a martini when made with gin and vermouth and served in a V-shaped glass.
I bristle when I hear someone say, "age is just a number."
I won’t cancel Woody Allen on accusations and a process full of holes.
I have a hunch the world can live without Tik Tok.
Why did it take so long to figure out that putting wheels on luggage was a good idea?
Feel free to fill in your own.
On slow news days, this renowned New York sportswriter from yesteryear, would offer a buckshot of non-sequitur observations in his column, that would range far and wide beyond his regular sports beat. Though stated within a single sentence, they're not intended to be "one-liners." Just a bit wry.
Usually, they revolved around his pet peeves or picadilloes, as opposed to any serious world events. For the most part, everyday sorts of things that might strike a note of familiarity with a reader. Beginning with the phrase “Nobody asked me but…” he would be off and running.
Despite the fact that there never seems to be a slow news day anymore—especially on CNN—I’d like to escape from it all at the moment. The trials and tribulations, the protests in search of a purpose, and in the midst of spring with the sun shining brightly, uninterrupted by the a turn at turning Cannon.
ever growing polarization. And in
moon (and nix on that eclipse), I take