Lost Hands and Lost Bands

Big Brown did me in. My Derby tickets turned to confetti. He made it look easy coming from the far outside post. My pick Pyro was lost somewhere in the crowd. The filly Eight Belles broke down.

My trek to the betting parlor in the bowels of the Windy City felt like an anthropological expedition. Early on the red line, there were the Cubs fans, gearing up for a day of beer and baseball. Then at off track betting, it was all wise guys and lone wolves, looking to score.

The big change, No Smoking! There were constant waves of bettors making for the exit to cop a smoke. So at least we were all breathing easy.

I was lost in my own little world of odds and combos. Trying to come up with just the right formula. No luck.

On the way back I read Simon Reynolds "Rip it Up and Start Again" - all about Public Image Limited, Gang of Four, New Order, Joy Division, Echo and the Bunnymen, Rocket from the Tombs, Television, Pere Ubu, Devo - a land of lost hands and lost bands. The promised land.