I wanted to share an experience with the color pink. As you may recall, we went to the Kentucky Derby in 2010. The race day before the Derby is called Kentucky Oats and spectators are encouraged to wear pink in support of the ladies. For us, Kentucky Oats was our favorite day at the famous Churchill Downs. The weather was beautiful and the crowd was pleasant and subdued. Perhaps some of that civility could be credited to the color pink. As we were walking among the crowds, I noticed a tall, muscular black man wearing the most beautiful pale pink suit. The suit was of exquisite fabric and clearly had been tailored to fit this gentleman. My assumptions were that he had to be a professional athlete to be that size and toned and to afford a luxury suit in pink. Against his dark skin, the pink suit was stunning. That is my favorite pink memory.
The following day and the running of the Derby, pink was no longer the color and the graciousness of the Kentucky Oaks was replaced with rowdy, brawly, falling down drunkenness. It was a rainy, and therefore, muddy mess. We went from the sublime to the foolish. It was enough to make us enjoy the Derby on television in the future.
