Verbs vs. Nouns, Tacos, Roses and Bieber’s New Ride

Fun book to read, not all lectury and school teacherish…

“Be the verb, not the noun” is an admonishment from the highly successful motivational writer Austin Kleon (over a million books sold—the verb here is write, and did he ever) who wraps a lot of pithiness and, yes, cliches, in an entertaining, hand-scrawled format, caught my eye. Am I a sculptor, or do I surpass the passive and actually sculpt? Am I a writer, or do I sit my derriere down and write my butt off? I prefer to think of myself as a verb in those departments. But there are, admittedly, days when I become a mouth-breathing, sighing noun. For those times, this little book might just be the spark. Open it to any page and get some go. Thanks, Austin. Enough of that, This ain’t a Ted Talk.

 The L.A. Taco, a gazette of the gastronomic plus street news, is in the throes of a never-ending quest; to find the best taco in the city of angels. I have some pretty good burnt meat memories of the delicacy from street vendors and sit-down joints where the real sizzling deal was served. I’m guessing that KC’s hispanic community could go mano a mano and place high in the rankings out there, but I’m no judge; I liked airline food back when they served it. Hospital food too. But my tastes go from bland to grand. MD 2020 to Chateau Lafite Rothschild 1984. Well, that’s stretching it a bit—I never had either one. Just grapes, right?

 But this intercity rivalry (Taco Madness) has now reached such proportions it has its own bracket. Serious stuff. And the L.A. Taco’s readership exceeds the NYT and WaPo combined. I don’t make this stuff up. Anyway, may the best mano/taco win. Here’s a checkable fact: 400,000 Norwegians eat tacos every Friday. That’s 8.2% of the country.

 In other heavily researched and fact-checked news, I saw this with my own eyes: a 1967 Shelby Cobra beat a new Dodge Challenger Hellcat decisively in a drag race. The footage is awful, but no mistaking the 50-year old Ford’s win. Even the baseline Hellcat has about 700 horsepower. Maybe s/he missed his/her shift. Ford, by the way, may be reviving its “Lightning” name for its electric F-150. There’s so much car/truck news going on that it’s rather overwhelming. Especially if you have a hundred thousand or so burning a hole in your phone wallet.

 Or $330k which is what Justin Bieber’s new custom Wraith cost him. Holy Molybdenum. Get your own one of a kind from West Coast Customs. Here a link to their Bieber build. A standing ovation from Resume Speed, Kansas.

 And in honor of Reno Pete, my gambler uncle, and the recent Kentucky Derby, an aptly named book, and a couple of observations. Freddie kept us in the money with her across-the-board bet on Medina Spirit, and I had a bunch of also-rans, but one WPS bet on Hot Rod Charlie which paid a few bucks to show. The bets were placed on TwinSpires, and the winnings and original amount will now go to the Preakness.

 The book’s title is “The Greatest Gambling Story Ever Told” and it’s an interesting read. Part of it takes place at The 1988 Kentucky Derby and some of it happens in Tijuana’s Agua Caliente track. My uncle was at Caliente daily for years, making the trip from San Diego, and, finally, moving to Tijuana for the remainder of his life. A former Army Air Corps pilot and adventurer, his life would make a pretty good book. His final thirty years or so were spent gambling on the ponies. It was his only job. My grandmother used to say, “Pete has an interesting circle of friends.” Right out of Damon Runyon. He was, of course, my favorite uncle.

 The book is by a colorful gambler nicknamed Miami Paul, and it concerns a filly named Winning Colors, trainer D. Wayne Lukas, and the Mexican cartel among its cast. Three gamblers (Miami Paul, Dino Mateo and Big Bernie) bet a 50-1 shot (a year before the Derby) to win the Derby. If I did such a thing through TwinSpires, my odds would remain the same on Derby Day even though the horse might start at 8-1 or less. IF they would even take such a bet. Las Vegas wouldn’t, back then, and there were no online betting sources. Tijuana was their only avenue for such an audacious bet. And if they won they might be killed. Caliente was in shaky financial shape. How would they get the money (a million bucks) out of Mexico even if they survived?

 Great thriller to read in the days leading up to the Run for the Roses. Or anytime. Reno Pete would have approved.

 And they’re off!