And they’re off …

About 170,000 friends and I were at this year’s Kentucky Derby. Here’s our view from the first turn of the big race:

IMG_0737-1

Let’s just say my horse wasn’t the one that won. Though I did win the previous race, I left the track with less money than I walked in with. My son, on the other hand, made more than he betted. My guidance as a parent leaves much to be desired.

Which brings me to my next point:

hqdefault

It’s been 45 years since Dr. Hunter S. Thompson Esq. penned these immortal words, and although Churchill Downs is far more diverse and affluent than it was in 1970, the mood remains the same. Very tanned and very drunk people, each mellowed by at least a half dozen Mint Juleps, are gathered in a glorious scrum of gambling and elaborate hats. … and not just on the women:

IMG_0727

I was with a group from out of town, who went through the wrong entrance of the Downs, finding themselves in the middle of the infield, a general admission haven of bloated besuited frat boys and short-skirted soro sisters whose first order of the day was to get as ingloriously inebriated as humanly possible to the point where you couldn’t tell which member of an embracing duo was holding the other up. A Douchebag Bonnaroo, if you will. Fortunately, the visitors made their way to our box seats, where we enjoyed a higher class of bourbon, broads and betting.

The lines were Soviet-era Moscow long at the hundreds of gambling booths. Even though it was, at times, an hour between races, people committed the most unforgivable of racetrack sins. I suffered from hordes of people delaying the line for the ninth race by scanning their smartphones and making wagers for their unattending friends for the 11th race. The howls from the back of “Make your bet, already!” never phased them. Even worse, I stood behind a sauced middle-aged couple who had been throwing dollars at the gods of gambling all day and knew that some of their betting slips contained winners, but they didn’t remember which ones, so they handed a stack of paper (I’m guessing at least 30 different bets) to the guy in the booth who proceeded to run each one through the scanner to figure out which ones had the payouts. End result, $151 in winnings. Oh, and I didn’t get to bet on that race. But the time I got to the booth, I had to figure out who I would bet on in the subsequent race, only to find that one of my horses, the favorite, was scratched.

Right now, it’s 4 in the morning and I’m ready to crash. So, after all that, would I attend a Derby again?

Hell, yeah! Where else are you going to enjoy a fashion show like this?

IMG_0721

A few charts to help you through the Oscars tonight

For those of you who enjoy looking at the past, here’s an infographic that shows the films with the most nominations and the most wins (click throughout to enlarge):

tumblr_nk2tzyPh1G1s3dn7vo1_1280

For you fashion mavens, here’s an updated chart of all the gowns worn by the best actress winners (check out Joanne Woodward and Julie Christie for the best acting seamstress award):

Oscar-Dresses-2014-Amended-2

And finally, if you’re in an Oscar pool and have to wager on the winner in all of the categories except best actress and best supporting actress, put your money on the middle-age white guy:

20150220_Oscars_Fo

And the winner is …

Like a president never wore a tan suit before

All right, I’ve had it, again. As I’ve said before, what is wrong with these people?

For some reason last week, this …

03a06154e00743cc9e113c51e8273a5f-2674d21eb06a42c5aab1e2ffb3c17984-2drove people into a frenzy:

“There’s no way any of us can excuse what the president did yesterday,” King said on NewsMaxTV on Friday. The interview was flagged by Buzzfeed. “When you have the world watching … a week, two weeks of anticipation of what the United States is gonna do. For him to walk out —I’m not trying to be trivial here— in a light suit, light tan suit, saying that first he wants to talk about what most Americans care about the revision of second quarter numbers on the economy. This is a week after Jim Foley was beheaded and he’s trying to act like real Americans care about the economy, not about ISIS and not about terrorism. And then he goes on to say he has no strategy.”

OK, Peter King is a nut, but what’s everyone else’s excuse?

While Washingtonian magazine Fashion Editor Kate Bennett gives the president props for “[stepping] out of the mold” and nixing a traditional blue or black suit, she says he instead “opted for a color” more associated with laid-back occasions than addressing the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria (ISIS) or the situation in Ukraine.

“Personally, I think a tan suit is a little too casual for a press conference or a formal statement from the White House, but that’s just me,” Bennett says.

Are you serious? He’s at a press conference, not a funeral. But maybe I can see the point, since no other president has worn a tan suit in public.

628x471Uh, but no Republican would wear a tan suit at a news conference:

628x471-2Uh, but the patron saint of the GOP wouldn’t disgrace the Oval Office by wearing one:

C3657-13Hell, Jimmy Carter wore a tan sweater for a major speech:

BwJ212IIMAMvpKoLook, presidents have been wearing tan suits forever.

Ike-2a

In some of the most iconic images in American history:

Truman---Time-Cover

And in situations that determined the fate of the free world:

article-0-0209D9160000044D-113_468x367So SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP about Obama wearing a tan suit. Republicans aren’t mad because he wore one. They’re mad because he looked so good in it!

And a doll shall lead them

This is a human:

human-barbie-doll-gq-magazine-april-2014-women-photos-01

This is a plastic doll:

x9076_BARBIE-I-CAN-BE-Magician-Doll_XXX

The human, a Ukrainian woman named Valeria Lukyanova, has surgically altered herself to look like a doll. Weird, right?

No. This is the weird part (from GQ):

Valeria grows pensive, which in her case means rolling her eyes slightly upward without changing anything else about her face. “I wouldn’t say so. Everyone wants a slim figure. Everyone gets breasts done. Everyone fixes up their face if it’s not ideal, you know? Everyone strives for the golden mean. It’s global now.”

“But that’s a relatively new thing,” I reply. “The ideal of beauty used to be different.”

“That’s because of the race-mixing.”

If I had a glass of multi-chutney carrot-juice mix before me, I’d do a bright orange spit take.

“For example, a Russian marries an Armenian,” Valeria elaborates helpfully. “They have a kid, a cute girl, but she has her dad’s nose. She goes and files it down a little, and it’s all good. Ethnicities are mixing now, so there’s degeneration, and it didn’t used to be like that. Remember how many beautiful women there were in the 1950s and 1960s, without any surgery? And now, thanks to degeneration, we have this. I love the Nordic image myself. I have white skin; I am a Nordic type—perhaps a little Eastern Baltic, but closer to Nordic.”

I feel like checking my watch. We’ve gone from nails to eugenics in about two minutes flat.

I realize that just like everyone reading about Human Barbie, I had had a simple narrative prepared in my head: A small-town girl grows up obsessed with dolls, etc. Instead, I get a racist space alien.

Just let that sink in. The human is real. But the doll has better values.

Here’s a video of the human:

And here’s a video of the doll:

Is it time to give up on humanity?