Every day is Father's Day and a good day to remember my old man. When he passed away ten years ago, I took his ashes out to Arlington Park and spread them in the turn near Trackside where he spend so many afternoons and where we did our best bonding together. I thought in that turn he could watch every race set up and would be as happy as a clam. Now when I walk by on my way to Trackside, I hardly recognize him. Thanks to the infinite wisdom of Arlington management, they've morphed that poor sumbitch into an all weather polysurface. Sorry Pop, but Happy Faddersday. (From the looks of things out there right now, it looks more like muddersday!)
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