Melbourne Cup

The Kentucky Derby ain’t got nothing on the Melbourne Cup.

Jorge, without my prior consent, volunteered us to assist today running the Sweepstakes that our local tavern was hosting in conjunction with Australia’s most famous horse race, with twenty percent of the take to benefit our elementary school. Good thing we went too because the other key person did not show up making Jorge and I two-thirds of the team. We sold tickets and raised about $1,000 for the school’s P&C.

As with any official school sponsored event, there was alcohol served so Jorge and I spent the afternoon swilling champagne because unlike the Derby there is no official drink associated with the event.

Unless you live in Kentucky, when was the last time your teachers stopped their lessons and made you listen to a horse race on the radio? Grice was fortunate enough to have to deliver a paper to the office and got to see it live on television with the rest of the staff. Several of the teachers wore hats. Apparently funny hats are de riguer. Men and women arrived for the prix fixe lunch wearing fancy outfits and “fascinators”, Australian for “funny hats”. The fascinating part was figuring out what bird gave his or her life to spend eternity perched on the head of these people. For weeks the Cairns Post has featured full-page spreads on Melbourne Cup fashions. For those who must know, I wore my fifteen-year old Liz Claiborne tropical print linen skirt and newer button down cream, French cuff blouse (the same outfit, sans pearls, I wore and ended up on the front page of the Boca Beacon with my boss and Catsitter Extraordinare for the premiere of Hoot.) It was hot and I was sweating, which almost inspired me to bet on Glistening in the Calcutta event, an auction for each of the twenty-three horses running in the Cup, because we all know women don’t sweat, they glisten, but Pop Rock was our first choice being the only name that rang a bell (our kids have eaten them and we are not so old that we haven’t enjoyed them either) until our hostess, the owner of the tavern, outbid us. Then I thought we might buy Mandela, being all politically correct and all. Instead, caught up in the excitement of the day -- and after having our glasses refilled several times -- we ended up wildly bidding on Delta Blues because it was the most American sounding horse after Pop Rock, and because Jorge had just spent a few days in New Orleans with his brother and niece surveying investment potential there before returning to Australia, and because it reminded me of Jorge’s buddy Mike, whose favorite blues tune is Stormy Monday by the Allman Brothers, and because, well, I don’t know, just because.

Our new landlord and his wife were there. Let’s just say there is no doubt we will be able to make the rent this month. And I could even afford a hat or two.

Melbourne Cup Results


Australia is a lucky country run by second-rate people who share its luck.

-- Donald Horne (The Lucky Country)