The Old Man at the Horse Races

by Captain Perry Wrinkle

The old man is getting up in years; he is moving a little slower now and it takes him a little longer to get dressed or to get his fishing gear together. In most aspects he is starting to slow down.

Now, “Pup,” as we all call him, is an ardent horse race fan. If he ever won “megabucks” he would spend the rest of his life going from track to track. He loves to hear the bugle sound as the starter calls the racers. He enjoys watching them, but more than anything else, he likes betting on them. One time we had left home a little late and we arrived at the track just one minute before the first race was due to start and had to park 6 or 7 hundred feet from the betting station. Pup jumped out and headed for the window. I bet my wife $2.00 that Pup would make it. He not only made the window; he won the daily double. When he is ready to place a bet he can move faster than any horse on the track.

Now that off-track betting has come to the area and you can watch 5 or 6 races at a time on big screen television sets, Pup can get a table only ten feet from the betting windows. This isn’t heaven, but it’s good enough for Pup and he goes there every chance he gets.

He has a grandson named Ray whose father’s family used to raise and race horses. Ray has been taking Pup to the off-track betting parlor at least twice a week. They went up to Bangor one day in March and it was snowing, so Ray had the lights on. When they got to the parking lot Pup jumped out of the truck and headed for the betting parlor. Ray hurried to catch up, and in his haste he forgot to turn off his lights. They enjoyed the afternoon and managed to get a few bucks ahead. The evening didn’t go so well, but the old man insisted on staying because he wanted to get the “big one.” The betting parlor closed at midnight and Pup was still waiting for that “big one.”

They got in the truck, Ray turned the key but nothing happened. He pulled the light switch and discovered it was already pulled. The battery was dead. Only one car remained in the parking lot and the owner was walking toward it. Ray hollered at the fellow and asked if he had jumper cables. He answered “yes,” and he would drive right over and give them a hand. Ray had a little flashlight on his key chain. He gave it to Pup after opening the truck hood and asked Pup to hook on the cables. The good Samaritan drove up and got out, opening his car hood so the old man could connect the jumper cables.

He hooked them up and the truck engine roared to life. Now the old man doesn’t hear very well and with Ray revving up the truck engine he probably couldn’t hear at all. He coiled up the jumper cables and put them in the trunk of the guy’s car, slamming the cover shut. He then tried to slam the hood. It went down pretty good on one side, but the other side was a little reluctant. The guy in the car rolled down his window and started screaming at Pup. “You blankety, blank, blankety idiot. Get away from my F****** car.”

Pup was hanging off the hood like an athlete trying to chin himself. And the car owner was hollering and swearing louder and louder. The car hood was looking a lot like one of those little three-cornered tents that the hippies used to sleep in. Ray jumped out of the truck and told Pup to hold up. The other old guy was out of the car by this time, still swearing. Pup said, “Well, if you feel that way, you can close your own damn hood.” Which is what the guy did and jumped in his car, still swearing, and burned the tires across the parking lot.

Ray said, “Get in the truck quick, Pup. He might circle back.”

The old man got in and they started for home. Pup said, “I don’t know what that guy was so upset about, it wasn’t my fault his hood was sticking.”

“Well,” said Ray, “It would probably have closed a little better if you had put the prop rod down that was holding it up on one side.”

“Oh,” Pup said. “I didn’t see that. Next time we come we will bring my car; he might not recognize us where it was dark.”

Ray said, “It will probably be a long time before that fellow volunteers to help anyone else.”

Pup replied he wouldn’t want any more help from him anyway. “That guy’s got a bad attitude.”

Happy fishing.