things I hate

Way, way back many centuries ago on Labor Day weekend, Bill and Beth and I had ourselves a big time in Del Mar. It was the last of the summer's free concerts, and we've made it a tradition to catch the one and only Ziggy Marley whenever he visits our fair town.

I was excited to go to the racetrack, because although I'd been there twice already in the span of this summer's season, I had not been to any of the other concerts. There was another reason I was anxious to go back. I had seen something during my previous visit that I felt desperate to document. To be perfectly honest, I had not actually seen this great thing, but I had heard about it while waiting in line to use the restroom one time. I heard about it from someone in another stall, who had seen the thing and was reading it out loud to her friend, cracking up. It cracked me up too, and hearing it was almost funny enough, but I still felt mildly desperate to photograph it if at all possible.

So we went to the track, and I went to the bathroom, and I crossed my fingers that I'd end up in *that* stall, and guess what? I got lucky at the racetrack! What? No, of course my horse didn't win. But I did choose the lucky stall. The one with the world's best graffiti:

Sigh. It's perfect! Makes me want to carry a sharpie everywhere, always. I took another photo for scale, and don't worry I'm almost positive my pants were pulled up.

Have I learned nothing about drinks in potty stalls?

We enjoyed most of the races from our usual spot on the happening side of the grassy infield. Then, still basking in the glow of my bathroom graffiti success mission, we three misfits wandered around a bit to the far side of the infield track.

It was the end of a gorgeously hot and sunny day, and the light was so cool over there on the far side.



 

We had never noticed the housing over there, or the bleachers only accessible from those housing units. We agreed that they must be inhabited by track employees. Modest accommodations to say the least, but not a bad view of the action.


We were having a big time, we three. No kids, a cooler full of  "lemonade," and good friends.We started to document our glee. 

Perfect. Wait.

Perfect. Wait...but where am I? Selfies in order.

 

Perfect. Wait. What's with the finger?

Seriously, the finger!

Oh man, that was funny. On my camera, I am the master of the long arm selfie. I can snap with the same hand that holds the camera and no one is the wiser. On my phone, I had to hold it with one hand and then reach across to tap the icon for photo taking. And I found it impossible to move my finger out of the way, while keeping everyone in the frame, before the shutter clicked (as it were).

We had no choice but to lose a person if we were to get the shot.

Perfect.Wait.

Ah, that was funny. Soon it was time for the last race, and we packed up while watching expectantly for the horsies. It's cool on the far side. Quiet (when people stop guffawing) and unexpectedly calm.

right until it's not, and the thundering hooves fly by in a blur of color.

  
 My horse actually won that race! The board said baby brought in $8.41. The craggy old guy in the window said he didn't have enough change, so I only got like $8.14. Seriously
 

Goodnight sun.

Goodnight racetrack

Goodnight Ziggy