A Storied Day---In a Storied Place

Now you might think that the club trip to the Keeneland Concours d'Elegance was heavy on fluffery and falderal.  It was---and it wasn't.

The day dawned with a hint of blue disguised in white.  The weather radar said the nearest rain was in western Colorado.  The Brandenburgers and Louisvillians had a different story. Bad wind, light mist and a torrential downpour all befell these travelers.  But the cars had nary a water spot and the carpets did not smell like wet wool.  We suspect a story.

The Governor claimed he drove.  But no one could actually find his car. Did he or was a passenger in a Lexus.  It has happened---just last month in London.  Did he drive?  We suspect a story.

One member pointed at blindingly bright chrome sidepipes.   We smiled like we had a clue.  Then he fingered a tarry speck slightly smaller than a dust mote.  He claimed a Porsche driver had kicked it up as he was trying to pass and  that he 'tromped da sucker.'  Maybe, but--- we suspect a story.

We can bear witness to fifteen cobras (credit given to the gorgeous Daytona Coupe) and friendly folks from Ohio, Indiana, and all across Kentucky.  We had a huge sycamore tree  for shade, a space to circle the baggies and one of those "turn off the camera, we got some stories to tell" kind of days. 

Alfa Romeo was the featured marque.  The food was awesome.  Some even had the deep fried, bacon wrapped sausages that came with cardiac arrest remote push button thingies that you had to carry for thirty minutes after lunch.  Or did they --- we suspect a story.

The truth is that it never rained.  It was sunny, breezy and awesome.  Hey, this is Keeneland.  Now turn off the camera --- let me tell you a story.