Trash Talkin’, Track G-R-I-T-s and the new DUH emoji

There were several times after I learned to cuss (an acquired skill if artfully applied) that I explained to my very proper Momma just where some of these descriptive terms came from. My mother was a gifted English teacher and I figured that she would appreciate my articulation on the subject of historical origins. She never did. Her Daddy and my Pop could land a few and this habit shook beloved Blanche, his wife, to the core of her Southern Baptist heart. I knew my Grand-Pop didn’t mean the God & Jesus part as he was spiritual. Yet…yeh boy… he could let it fly when he meant the other parts of the intonation. My Daddy thought that I was a natural in the arena of trash talkers. He would be amazed at how I have polished my skill. Pop’s footsteps were sizable. Zip code sizable.

I do not think my Momma would have embraced the emoji business. She was a fervent believer in Mr. Roget’s Thesaurus. Tune up your word play or no dessert. Yet somehow I think that she would have agreed with me about overuse of those social media symbols especially the thumbs up. Admittedly I am excessive about typing ‘woohoo’ but FB has not invented the wild and riotous and noisy glee emoji from watching a good or great racehorse. Nor have they invented an emoji when I want to express my succinct irritation. The burnin’ mad face just doesn’t cut it. I have been having moments where only an emoji that contained Pop’s fury when he encountered hypocrisy, misinformation or outright slandering good intentions, (whew), would suffice. Take the wondering about the issue of Secretariat versus A.P. or Junior (Chrome) or A.P. racing Chrome. Weary emoji. All three were gifts from the Almighty…Secretariat raised the bar, A.P. made us rub our eyes in wonderment and Junior staggered the social media dream factory. And then there is Zennie, Rachel, Songbird and yes, America, wowsuh, Makybe Diva, the female thunder from down under. Winner of three successive Melbourne Cups, that is a 2-mile race against 19 or so big assed colts. Woohoo emoji.

And how about that marbled grey that obliterated the Travers field with a Beyer of 122. Foot emoji. I can’t help but look forward to double B snarkathons leading up to the Breeders’ Cup Classic. That trainer could toe Bill Maher with his quip fixes.

Bless his Heart emoji.

Arrogate bears a strong resemblance to the late n great Spectacular Bid, a superb roan with the heart of a lion and a huge turn of foot. And the karmaticphasmagoric spirits that surround Bob Baffert may also hold for AP’s little sister, American Cleopatra who is beginning to show ability. One wonders if double B will let Cleo partner with Victor Espinoza for a track dance…something that would require medication for track swooners. My favorite track-trekker, Mayor McDowell, is lobbying for a Zayat-Baffert-Espinoza hat trick so I am with her as she knows more than me.

Next subject that occurs to me. Horse books.

Have you read any good horse books lately? Pay attention Ryan Brady.

I have. Especially during a Kentucky big boomer thunderstorm where my dog does the jitter jig and has to be held. Book in one hand and the other limb over Crawford Bob, the golden dood-for-life, is the usual posture for storm reads.

Sometimes a severe summer storms makes Time-Warner Cable reconsider their back-up generator options and when this happens, plan b (flashlight, book and wine) goes into effect. I highly recommend Beautiful Jim Key by Mim Rivas as well as Barry Irwin’s Derby Innovator. The former is a beautifully crafted re-telling of true lives; a horse named Jim Key and his trainer, Dr. William Key, set against the ebbing tide of the Civil War and the dawn of side barking curiosity shows.

Barry Irwin’s book takes a storm or two to do it justice as the reader gets the story telling as well as the Walter Cronkite chronicling of the building of an international syndicate, the story of Animal Kingdom and why Irwin did it, how he felt about it before, during and after. Barry always has a goodly opinion or two to spare so and so his book is a condensed version of his world visions so far. Worth it. Good Word emoji.

Another emoji valuing attention is the forgiveness emoji. Court is out on that Olympic swimmer yet I would launch this thought out into the ionosphere of public opinion. The guy was ill advised. Some illiterate PR soothsayer constructed his responses and the poor guy just got confused in relaying the prescribed message. He just didn’t practice talk enough. I nominate California Chrome to replace the swimmer dude on the cereal box. Woohoo emoji. And we all have excellent uses for the forgiveness emoji and probably should use it quite liberally. Yet it doesn’t fix the stupid part of the what is required to forgive. You can’t fix stupid. DUH emoji. My co-host for “Big Girl’s Pony Club”, Jo-an Tomlin McDowell, who is a constant inspiration for post modernistic hand signals, in addition to the wizard of colorful ink, A.E. Sabo, have contributed to this BGPC idea list;

Big Foot emoji-  Highest rank for the special horse.

Dirt Pilot emoji- for the over-whipping, bump n run jockeys.

Indeed emoji – confirmation of “what he/she just said”. Space saver.

Same thing for the finger flip emoji yet that is a personal opinion.

BGPC is considering hosting a funeral for the thumbs up emoji and encourage members to not use the heart shape emoji for love. Spell it out. It is the ultimate word.

Good Grits  would make an emoji smile. I certainly love them. L-O-V-E. I can be called a G-R-I-T (a girl raised in the South) yet this refers to the food group. 

The round tube-like package that has a Quaker dude on the front…couldn’t find an athlete (Ryan L. is looking) …has very finely processed grits. I have a younger cousin that I used to tease about where things came from. She would go home, tell her parents, the phone would ring and I was sent to the ‘quiet room’. I set the whopper bar telling her about the birthing of grits. We were both flower girls in a family wedding and carried baskets of roses and baby’s breath. Grits flowers, I whispered to her as we wandered down the aisle. Bless her heart…she pulled one out and began to munch. Of course I nodded as if to agree and then started to giggle which was her cue to laugh out loud and commence to cough up those darling grits buds which sent our Mommas into their Salem-witch-trial-meets-a-pit-bull stares. I shooshed her loudly and she reposted ‘these are weeds, not grits’ which started me giggling again. “Yes, they are” and “no they’re not” competed with the wedding vows. No wedding cake for us that afternoon…just a quiet glass of cherry Kool-Aid by myself…in the quiet room.

Grits are really not connected genetically to baby’s breath. Duh emoji. And the best kind are of the stone ground variety. Kentucky makes really good stone ground grits. Personally, I love Wiesenberger stone ground grits. Here is their version of baked grits.

Baked Cheddar Grits

4 cups water

1 cup Wiesenberger stone ground grits

1 tsp. salt

2 tsp butter

1 cup sharp cheddar

Boil water and whisk in grits with salt and butter. Turn pan heat down and stir occasionally so the grits do not clump. Continue over low heat until cooked through… about 20 minutes. Stir in cheese  and remove pan from heat. Allow to cool   slightly before turning into greased casserole. Bake at 350 for 30 minutes…take out and sprinkle more cheese on top and replace in oven until melted.

Grits Cakes

Do not bake, spread grits in brownie pan and allow to cool in refrigerator before forming patties or with a biscuit cutter. Fry in ½ inch of cooking oil and use as base for etoufee, chunky tomato sauce or sautéed shrimp.

Grits. That’s it.

                        Title Cartoon provided by A.E. Sabo of Off The Pace