But first a small aside. We here at IM Central pride ourselves on our sharp (if somewhat alcohol fogged) eye, our rapier wit (even if our rapier more closely resembles a butter knife) and our insightful analytical acumen (which, while mostly wrong is at least spelled correctly) when it comes to ferreting out threads of meaning in the complex tapestry that is life in post rational America for your edification and enlightenment.
That being said however, we find that mostly we rely on dumb luck and happenstance. Take this week for instance. When it finally did become clear to us that it was indeed Friday and our reader(s) would be expecting us to lead another foray into a twisted, writhing fever swamp of greed and callousness, where we kick over a few rocks and watch the reptilian inhabitants scurry for the shadows...erm...we mean write about greyhound racing. We were at first inspired to scour the interwebs in search of the latest specimen of excrement brought forward by the leading lights of overlordistan in their ongoing attempt to convince the public at large that they do make a contribution to society that surpasses the one made by their closest competitor for resources, Lepidosaphes gloverii. But that would be, like work, you know? So instead we just spun the giant wheel of chance on our electric computing machine and out plooped the last living greyhound racing fan in Texas. Ladies and gentlemen, meet Ronald Buck.
As you can see, this is not a photo the overlords would have chosen to further their "packed house" argument, but be that as it may, let's get to know Ronald, shall we?
Ronald Buck punched a fist at the cloudless blue sky and barked encouragement to the dogs that raced around the track. His words were unintelligible, but his fervor was pyrotechnic.Well, that's quite understandable. It's been our experience that people associated with greyhound racing are often unintelligent...uh...we mean unintelligible. Usually this can be remedied by taking hold of their shoulders, giving them a good shake and saying loudly "Use your words man. Use your words!"
We like that pyrotechnic fervor too because where else but a greyhound track can you watch the rent money go up in flames two dollars at a time?
Win or lose, Buck, 75, and his buddies relish their time together at the races. The men play the dogs several times a month, usually at midweek when admission is free.Yeah. Now in the interests of full disclosure we should point out that no one can see Buck's "buddies" except Buck What's really interesting about the above passage though is how it illustrates Buck's inherent shrewdness and economic savvy. He will come to the track to lose money only if they don't they charge him to do it. We're thinking he may have been a hedge manger or an investment banker before he retired.
The Texas Racing Commission, which regulates dog and horse tracks, reports onsite wagering at live dog races dropped from about $30 million in 2005 to about $11 million last year. (Total money wagered at Gulf Greyhound, including both live and simulcast races, dropped to $40.6 million last year from $54.9 million in 2005.)Whoa. Sounds like Buck needs more "buddies." What do you think Better?
I am very sweet and affectionate and love to follow my foster parents around. I love to play with toys and “nest.” I am a very quiet girl. I am curious about the dogs I see outside. I do very well in my crate. I get along wonderfully with dogs I know, but I am definitely too curious about kitties to live with them. For more information about this dog, and other rescued racing greyhounds looking for homes, go here. If you don't know about the plight of racing greyhounds go here.