Daddy would get depressed on occasion, but he’d always played sports, so when he no longer was active himself, he found other interests to keep him “up”. One of these was the horse races.
Daddy loved the races, especially the buggy ones. He loved the excitement of watching the beautiful animals vying for Win, Place or Show. His favorite numbers were 4 and 1 and 1 and 4 which he played regularly when he attended. In fact, our family had our first color television, complements of a Daily Double that paid nearly $400.00 that particular Saturday. The year was 1964 and the only “in color” pictures were the NBC peacock and Flipper. No matter; the round screen RCA console was absolutely beautiful! The Wonderful World of Disney and other programs soon followed in glorious color.
Funny how Daddy could keep the race horses’ and jockeys’ names and stats straight over the years, yet he couldn’t remember his own children’s’ birthdays! When we needed cheap entertainment, we could always begin by giving Daddy a quiz:
Hey, Daddy…do you know all of your kids’ birthdays?
Let me see….hmmm. Yeah…one of you was born in October…on Ike’s birthday; your older sister.
Yes, Daddy…the Pearl was born in October, on the 14th, just like President Eisenhower.
Your brother was born in June…I think… I forget the date…
Keep going, Daddy…
One of you was born around Christmas time…in December…
That’s close enough.
What about the youngest…? The Brat?
Silence. Pause. One could hear wheels turning…
By this time, we would be rolling. Year in, year out: my father could NOT recite his four children’s birthdays; at least, not all at once. Pitiful, but true. This game was really cheap fun, especially when he was waiting for dinner to be served or was shooting the breeze with his daughters over a cocktail…we could keep him “on his toes” each and every time. Pretty soon, he’d plead:
Okay, you got me…tell me.
Yep. Nothing like feeling special in this house as the Christmas Eve kid…
Besides, in his mind, Daddy had more important things to deal with; like the bets he’d have to place for my godfather who was no longer allowed at the track since he was caught “booking” on the side. Good ole’ Dad was there for his childhood friend, collecting the money each Saturday and writing down which races he’d have to place bets; the doubles; the exactas; life was getting complicated, even at the races.
And for some strange reason, Daddy’s knees and legs didn’t bother him on Saturdays nearly as much as they did during the rest of the week. It was just amazing how youthful he could become each weekend, with that added lift to his step and innocent looking expression…like watching Ziggy appear in the flesh!
We decided to dedicate our early morning piano duet to him and when convenient, we’d embark on “Come Saturday Morning” in full harmony. Mom would be giggling in the kitchen. Daddy was too absorbed in the green sheet to pick up the irony until about a minute or so later…
Okay, okay, I hear you…you girls want to go in with me on a Daily Double? I’ll let you pick the horses, I’ll put in the two bucks…here, take a look…
We had Flipper and everything else we needed; our family never did without, even with Daddy’s love for the horses.
Some days, he even managed to convince Mom to pick out horses. Some weekday mornings, all he had to do was say the wrong thing or just enter the room; it didn’t take much to get on Mom’s nerves. Eventually, she would hand him two bucks and suggest that he take off for Golden Gate Fields. Daddy was no fool.