The year was 1987. It was a turbulent year, and the end of 2 or 3 very turbulent years in my world.
My
parents, who had issues going for about 20 years, finally had split up a
year or so before. It was an ugly day when it happened, and I was in
the house when it all blew up. You never forget moments like that, but
really, it was for the best. My parents were both great people in their
own ways, but they were oil and water together much of the time.
Splitting
up is never as easy as just walking away. Money was involved, and my
dad had issues that tied us to him and his issues were in ways that
weren't easy to remove from our lives. One of those was his penchant,
almost vocation, to get in trouble with the law and then make it worse
by doing more bad and stupid things. Before they split up, he had done
such a thing and because his bail was so high, we had to put our house
up as collateral to get him out.
When
they split up, my father eventually went to California to live and run
more of his scams. Scams was his business, and he was always in
business. So, when it came time to come back for the trial for the
previous scams, for which we had put our house up, he wasn't coming
back. The crown and judge made it clear if he didn't, they would take
the house. My mother was terrified. Something she was a lot and came to
her easily. We were sitting on my bed in my room, and discussing what to
do about it. I hatched a plan to get us out of it, and in the end, it
worked. It took some creativity, and some fudging the truth on the stand
by me, although I didn't lie, just left some things out, but at the end
of the day, she kept her house, which eventually she sold to me, and I
now live in.
The
plan was pretty simple. It was August of 1987, and I had worked all
summer since University had ended. I had saved up enough money for the
coming school year, so I didn't need to work the rest of that month. My
father had invited me to come visit him in Los Angeles, where he was
living. To be more specific, Anaheim. I accepted. Somehow, my mother got
involved and she came with. By then, my parents were getting along.
They did get along well...as long as they were apart. We flew together
to L.A., and the plan was to try and convince him to come back and face
the music in Toronto, then my mother would be off the hook for the bail
money. In addition, it would be a nice visit for 3 weeks. Staying at his
house meant it cost nothing, and my father being my father, he paid for
the plane fare. It would end up costing nothing, and again, my father
being my father, I came home 3 weeks later with a lot more money than I
left with. A lot is all I will say. It wasn't small bills, suffice it to
say.
Right
away I knew there was going to be trouble. My mother started talking
about taking him back. I told her she was crazy and had a very short
memory. Just remember the plan and the goal, have fun with your trips to
Disneyland and the movie studios, and try to get him to come back and
save your house. She wasn't easy to convince, and my father could be
very persuasive. It didn't really matter, so I just let it go while we
were there. I knew when the day came, I was getting her back on the
plane and then that would be that, and she would come to her senses.
Which she did. Three entire weeks with my father was plenty enough to
convince her that he hadn't changed one bit and that he never was going
to. He was the same crazy workaholic, over eater, excessive compulsive
and con man he had always been. I make him sound bad there, but he
really wasn't. He was a good, stand up guy who would give you the shirt
off his back and take a bullet for you, but he had major personality
flaws that he could never overcome. I took him for what he was, and saw
him for what he was. He was always very good to me, as you will see in this blog.
For
me, it was a chance to see places I never had before. I was going to
take full advantage of that. The only thing I had to do was get up very
early and drive him to work. In Los Angeles, even at 4am, that is a
chore. Why? Because there was traffic everywhere, all the time. L.A.
traffic is not a Hollywood made up story. Its very real. But if I wanted
the car all day, its what I had to do.
He
had to get up that early because of the 3 hour time difference. He said
he needed to be at work at 5am because that was 8am eastern time. For
whatever scam he was running, that was necessary.
Luckily
for us, he was able to use the 2 or more lane to drive to work. That
saved time. I asked him how he was able to do that by himself when we
weren't around. He said he put the dog in the backseat and when he got
stopped, he pointed out to the police that it said 2 or more, not 2 or
more people. As I understand it, because of his bullshit argument, he
forced them to change all the signs. That was my father. He also had a
stack of tickets because of it, and of course, he never paid any of
those.
Every
day, I would ride with him to work and then take the car for as long as
I wanted, then pick him up at 5pm. That meant I could go wherever I
pleased. Most days, that meant going to play golf. That is what I did
most in those days, and the weather was great in L.A. Starting out as
early as I did, meant I could get out before the crowds and play the
entire round, finish before noon, then get some lunch, and head to the
beach until he was ready to go home. One of those days I went to Redondo
Beach, and it was a great place to be. Some years later, the entire
area burned to the ground, so at least I got to see it first.
When
we got back home, each night I would do something different. One night,
I went to Dodger Stadium to see a baseball game. In my entire life, I
have never seen a baseball palace like that. It was heaven. The tickets
were very expensive, but it didn't matter. My father said he would get
me one, and he would pay whatever it cost. On top of that, out the door,
he would give me an extra 50 bucks in case I needed anything. That was a
trend that continued the entire trip. Fifty bucks a day times 21 days
ended up being 1000, and there was an extra envelope to go with it for
the plane ride. It was more than I made the entire summer before I came.
He also paid for all the golf course fees, and any food I wanted.
Another night, I went to Anaheim Stadium, which was just down the street
from his house, and he paid for all that as well. We also went to San
Diego and Tijuana for the day, and to San Francisco for 2 nights. I
wanted to play Pebble Beach, because that was a dream of mine, but on
the day we went, it was raining, so I didn't. We drove around the entire
course though, so at least there was that. If I had played, it would
have been 250 to play it. That was a lot of money to me, being only 22
and a student, but my father said if that is what you want, play and I
will pay it. For all my fathers faults, that is just who he was. He
would give you anything if he thought it made you happy.
Other
than the golf, the beach, the baseball games and the short trips, I had
one bigger plan in mind for myself. I had a day trip of my own in the
works. Towards the end of the trip, on a Saturday when my father didn't
need the car, I was going to drive to San Diego to watch the T breds run
at Del Mar, then come back at night and go to Los Alamitos for the
standardbreds. It was a day road trip for horse betting, something some
players like to do. I was one of those in those days. When that day
arrived, it was a bright, perfectly sunny California day. Many of the
days while we were there were very overcast and rainy. People who have
never been to LA don't realize that is more the reality of the weather
there, but you do get the sunnier days too, after the early morning smog
lifted. In those days, the smog was horrendous. On this day, there was
neither.
I
drove out to San Diego to go to Del Mar. I got there early, so I was
able to walk around and take the place in. It was massive and a palace,
much like Dodger Stadium had been. You never forget those things when
you see them. In those days, there were no camera phones, so the video
is just something that lives in my head. Before I left, since it was a
longer day, my father wanted to make sure I had enough money to get me
by the entire day, even though I had about 1000 saved from all the other
allowances to that point, so he gave me 150 this time. In those days, I
never bet more than 5 a race, and I didn't that day either, even though
I could have. I didn't feel comfortable doing that at that point.
I
bought the Daily Racing Form, but really, I didn't know much about the T
breds, so, I expected to lose. Big fields of horses I didn't know,
jockeys I didn't know, and a style of racing I had no real clue about.
For whatever reason, on this day, that was not going to matter. For you
see, on this day, I literally could not lose. We all have a day like
that, and this was my day.
I
stayed at Del Mar for about 6 races. I bet 4 of them. I hit them all,
and not just favorites. I think I was up another 50 before I left. When
you are a bettor, you think in terms of betting money and the rest of
your money. So, while I had 1000 back in the room at my fathers house,
and 150 from him for this day, in my mind, I now had 50 to play with at
night for the Los Al card. That is the way you think when you play
horses.
Off
I went, on the 2 hour plus journey back to LA to Los AL. I was hungry,
so I stopped for some dinner along the way, and because of that, I was
late and missed the first 3 races. I think there were 10. For some
reason that night, and that night only, they had a fair there in
addition to the regular harness races. The fair included quarter horse
racing. I knew zero about that style of racing, and to this day, I am
still in that boat. All I know is that they line them up in the gate, it
opens, and they run like hell for 8 to 10 seconds in a straight line
and then its over. I caught the last quarter horse race just as I walked
in. I bet 5 on something, and it won. Just barely, right on the line as
another passed it. I just couldn't lose on this day, no matter how
foolishly I played.
Then
the harness races started. I had been going to the races for about 4 or
5 years by then, and I knew what I was doing. But, at this track, I
knew none of the horses, the drivers, or really how they raced. But I
didn't care. I was playing with free money and it was more about the
experience anyway. On this night, they had the Sire Stakes also, and
many of the races were those. There were many heavy cinch favorites, so I
didn't have to be that smart to pick winners, if that is what I wanted
to do. I did.
The
first 3 were heavy chalks, they all looked good to me, I played them,
and they all won. I still could not lose. The next one I didn't like as much,
and a 5-1 shot looked good to me. I played him. He came out of the clouds
late and picked off the favorite right on the line, which was maybe a 3
minute photo to wait on. This was crazy. I had now hit 9 in a row. 9 in a
row. I've been at this now 35 years, I don't think I've ever hit 4 in a row,
before or since. There were just 3 or 4 races left. I was up at least
200 on the day by now. That was a lot of money, even though I was
already going home with way more than that if I had lost the entire 150 I
started with on this day.
I
decided to bet exactors this time. Not boxes though, just straight
exactors. Something I never do, to this day. But, this day was
different. I had the confidence that I was going to win. No matter what.
I played two 2-1 shots in the next race, and they hit the line
together, and my top horse clearly was ahead. But, there was an inquiry,
on the winner. It seemed to flash forever, but when the inquiry came
down, my horse stayed up. 10 in a row. Yes, 10 in a row.
By
this time, it had been a very long day, and I was getting tired and a
bit sleepy. But the rush of all the wins kept me going. I was going to
play one more race, win or lose, and then drive home. These were the
best horses they had in California at that time, the Open horses. There
were only 6, but it was a very evenly matched field. All 6 looked to
have a shot. I watched them parade, and I picked a 5-1 shot to win over a
6-1 for 2nd. Straight. It was paying about 100 bucks if I cashed it. I
had to lose though, nobody keeps a run like this going forever. The race
was contentious start to finish, and all 6 were in it as they turned
for home. My 5-1 shot was hopelessly boxed and blocked from going
forward. My 6-1 shot was on the outside, but he was hanging. I was
pretty certain I was going to lose this one. Then, the red sea parted,
the 5-1 shot shot through in an instant and got up right on the line,
with 4 others noses apart beside him for 2nd. My 6-1 shot looked to be
3rd, so I was still going to lose. They put the numbers up that way. I
thought the run was over. Then, they announced there was a drivers
objection. The horse that finished last against the 2nd place horse.
That one also took a long time too, but..he came down, my horse moved up
to 2nd, and....a perfect day was complete.
I
walked out with about 300 plus my 150, less dinner and gas, which my
dad insisted on giving me money for when he found out I spent 30 extra
on gas and food.
You
would think all of those things would be the most vivid memories I have
of that day, but it is not. The one thing I remember most is that there
were some people standing beside me at Los Al, and they had noticed I
won every bet. They looked at me by the end of the night like I was some
3 headed freak. It seemed I was that day.
Home I went.
Two
days later, on Monday, we flew back to Toronto. My father gave me the
extra envelope just before we took our luggage out of the trunk. He told
me not to open it until I got home. I didn't. Lets just say it was
enough money to buy a car if I wanted to.
On
the plane, my mother told me that my father had assured her he would
come back and go to court. I knew it as a lie, she knew it was a lie,
even though she wanted to believe it. It was a lie, but that was okay.
It was enough.
We
went to court a few months later. They called him. He wasn't there. So,
he was convicted, and now a felon on the run. When lunch break was
over, we had to go on the stand and tell them why they shouldn't seize
our house. My mother was very nervous, as she was prone to be anyway. I
told her to just tell the truth. She did. The crown asked her what she
did. She told them we went to California to convince him to come back,
he said he would, and that she did all she could do. She said he was not
living in hiding, she knew where to find him if they wanted him, and
she couldn't have done anymore.
Then
it was my turn. I wasn't so honest, but I did what I had to do to save
my mothers house, which is all she had left at that stage. The crown
asked me what I knew. I said I heard my father tell my mother that he
was going to come back. That wasn't entirely true. I didn't hear him say
that, but my mother told me he did then told me. I told them I was
certain he would come back, but of course I knew in my heart and mind he
wasn't going to. The judge said we had done enough, and he let us off
the hook.
I have a theory of why they did that.
As
it turns out, they didn't want him back. They were happy to let him be
California's problem. It cost more to prosecute and deal with him than
just let him be. In any case, they weren't even trying to extradite him
and he was easily findable, and he wasn't trying to cross. They
were just happy for it to be over. I told my mother she should take
that as a sign and be happy herself to be done with it, and let it be.
She did in the end.
On that trip, and in court, I just couldn't lose. It just went my way, for whatever reason.
My
mother hated when I played the races...but she loved it when I won. She
was like that. When I told her how much I won that day in California,
she was so happy. Everyone likes a winner and when you are that winner,
you feel like you can never lose. That is perceived by others, but all
of us know that the winning wont last. It didn't. The next time at the
track back home, I couldn't pick a winner to save my life, and I went on
a run where I lost my next 60 or 70 bets. Karma evened up the score, as
it always will. But it can't take away my stories or memories of that
month in August, where I could not lose.
No comments:
Post a Comment