'Heading into Los Angeles' - A. Guthrie

Up before the alarm. I'm leaving on a jet plane this morning, heading to Los Angeles, CA. I've got a two day business meeting, Monday and Tuesday and I decided to fly out early so I could make a visit to Santa Anita Racetrack and commiserate with the ponies for a bit. I get a kick just typing the words 'Santa Anita'; it's probably one of the most beautiful racetracks I've had the opportunity to visit, what with the mountains in the background, the faux Spanish decor, and some of the classiest thoroughbred horses in the States. I've made the trip to some of the best tracks: Hialeah, Gulfstream, Longchamps (outside Paris), Arlington, Calder, El Comandante (San Juan, Puerto Rico) Golden Gate, and spent plenty of time at some the worst too: Maywood, Sportsman's and Hawthorne (nothing quite like the smell of freshly-concocted chemicals wafting over you as you sit in the stands at Hawthorne, worrying over eleven old, sore horses in a $3500 claiming race). So anyway, by mid-afternoon today, I hope to be sitting in the stands with my program and racing form, trying to decipher the hieroglyphics of past performances, speed figures, class and distance. I guess you could add 'playing the horses,' to my list of 'addictions' from yesterday, but it's a vice that I visit quite infrequently. Is there anything more hopeful, more expectant, more exciting than: 'They're loading into the gate...they are all in... and they are off!'