Horse Time

Warm sunlight floods my office this February Saturday morning, a reminder that spring is near. In my state, South Carolina, the pending seasonal excitement includes horse racing. Aiken has been the training ground of some 40 national champions over the years. Right now they’re preparing thoroughbreds for the annual Aiken Trials.

I’m not a racing fan, but I enjoy outdoors and excitement. One spring, friends invited me to tailgate with them on a Saturday in Aiken. They’d prepared a basket feast; so had their neighbors parked along the rail. We shared delicacies, made remarkable new acquaintances, laughed a lot and generally forgot the cares of the week -- while horses periodically charged past so close we could hear the oaths of the jockeys. (I came to understand graphically that day how the term “jockey for position” derived.) Even though I had no idea how to distinguish a future Belmont contender from a hapless nag, it was a terrific outing.

Now that I think of it, maybe I can look up some of those old cronies, make a phone call or two, see if I can wrangle myself a place at the rail next month. . . .