October in Paris

The 4th of July holiday had our family and friends lounging poolside, imbibing cold beverages, sharing anecdotes, jokes, recipes, dreams and visions, names of good mechanics, critiques of various B movies, and so forth. After a beer (or two, maybe three … perhaps more), it was easy to throw out a few glib remarks, “Oh, honey, it’s completely understandable that you don’t know how to operate the clothes hamper so I don’t mind picking up your stinky socks on the bedroom floor,” or “There is nothing more I would rather do than devote my entire Saturday night watching the History Channel and eating Red Baron Pizza. Pfft! Who needs a babysitter?”

Or, “If Curlin runs in the Arc, I’m gonna go to Paris to see the race.”


Apparently, somebody in our household took that comment seriously. Over the past few days, I have discovered sticky notes posted strategically around the house - the refrigerator, my bathroom mirror, stinky socks on the floor – all the obvious places where I would see them. Each note demonstrates the artistry of a 4th-grader, touting Paris as the most fun-filled, escargot-eating hot-spot destination. Coincidentally, my 9-year-old daughter, Sophie, has made casual remarks about “needing a passport” just in case she goes somewhere that requires one, like Louisiana.

Last night, explanations were in order. I told Sophie that according to Gary West of the Star-Telegram, who is a very reliable source because he knows where Steve Asmussen parks his car,

If Curlin runs well Saturday [in the $500,000 Man o’ War Stakes at Belmont] – if, Asmussen said, he looks best in his turf debut – then he’ll travel to Saratoga for a couple weeks before going to France, where he’ll prepare for the Arc. He would have one preparatory race in France, Asmussen said.

And furthermore, I explained to Sophie, Curlin has some steep competition in the Man o’ War, including previous Breeders’ Cup Turf winners, Better Talk Now and Red Rocks. And finally, if I did go to Paris on my Arc Fantasy Trip, ya’ think I’d bring my 9-year-old??

“I’ll be 10 by then,” Sophie corrected me.

Ooo la la. Nous allons voir, mon amour. Allez, Curlin!

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The proper attribution is required for making this blog entry possible: Alan for publication of the word, “Paris”, and Michael, who recently used the phrase, “Breeders’ Cup Turf winners Better Talk Now and Red Rocks”, although it was merely a coincidence and I’m unsure if, in fact, there was any kind of copyright violation, but he’s a nice guy and he should be recognized more often.