Kentucky Derby Infield Party

This Saturday is the 135th Run for the Roses, and I wish I were there for it. Not so much because I'm a horse racing fan – I'm not – but because the Kentucky Derby infield is one of America's Great Parties. Here's why in text and photos, from people who have been there to experience it.

A true partier, of course, would hit the first week of JazzFest in New Orleans, then head to the Derby for the first Saturday in May.
http://www.pubclub.com/pubjournals/kentuckyderby.htm

A Broken Relationship, But Not a Broken Heart

Not even the roving party animal of PubClub.com, The Bartender, can avoid the pitfalls of relationships.
http://www.pubclub.com

This is not a story about a broken heart. The relationship did not last that long.

It was, however, significant enough to where we had advanced to the point of planning time together for the future, to be locked in arms while walking in public and for me to be invited to an intimate dinner party with her close friends.

So it came as a great surprise to me – shellshocked would be the more accurate description – when at her house after the aforementioned dinner party I was informed that there was another gentlemen in my lady's life. Not only that, but he was coming out from another state (where he lives) to spend a month with her and if it all works out, she would be packing her bags and moving back with him.

I would describe the feeling if I had any at the time. Certainly betrayal now comes to mind. But, so stunned was I by this shocking development, that I could do nothing – say nothing, do nothing, move nothing. I simply stared in disbelief at a duffle bag I had on her floor. Should I pick up the bag and leave? Stay and try to convince her to change the situation?

Frankly, I was hoping my bag would give me a clue. Suddenly leap into my lap and say "let's go!" But it just sat there, still as the night air.

And let me make it clear, this was no mind-changing 21-year-old but someone in her mid-30s with a good job at a highly respectable company. She had been showing signs of wanting to grow this month-long relationship into something significant. We were to go hiking together. Set up a friend with someone at her dinner party. Spend a weekend on a friend's boat in beautiful Monterey, Calif.

Since I enjoyed her company, I was signed up with the program and ready to roll. But, of course, it all came crashing down like a collapsed bookshelf.

One might expect my feelings the next day to include depression, rejection and anger. But I was too stunned to experience any of those emotions. What I really needed was a hug from a friend.

And I got it. From a few friends. They came to my rescue and lifted up my spirits like a magician doing a levitation trick. Four of us spent the day together, not talking so much about my situation, but just being together. They were there for me when I needed them.

Ironically, on the same night as my incident on the other side of town, a good friend was experiencing a similar breakup with his girlfriend. His was much more dramatic and occurred in a public place, but it had the same effect on him – surprise, shock and disbelief at what had just transpired.

We immediately rallied together because the point of this column is simple: Girlfriends (and boyfriends, as girls I know you've more than likely experienced relationship issues, as well) come and go. But friends last forever.

Thanks friends!

Impressions of Switzerland

Recently, I was sent by Tourism Switzerland on a press trip to the Alps, Zurich and Bern. This blog shows my impressions of the country and it's people. More on Switzerland – as well as several other destinations around the world, can be found at PubClub.com.
http://www.pubclub.com

AN AMERICAN IN SWITZERLAND

I'm in love.

Not with a girl in particular, but with a place. A country and its people. Its landscape and its land.

It's culture, well, I'm still working on parts of that one!

The object of my affection is Switzerland. It is a land of immense beauty. And not just the Alps (more on that later). Care-free inhabitants with European sophistication.

Enjoying beers in the fun village of Saas-Fee.

The people are wonderful. They are friendly, open to meeting others (such as Americans like myself) and quite hospitable.

They are also born to ski, born to eat cheese for dinner and born to walk. And it is in those last two areas where I begin to slide down the cultural landscape.

The skiing, okay. Love it. The Swiss learn to ski the way Americans learn to drive. Everybody does it. By the time they reach 10, they are ready for the Olympics. Not every American is ready for the Indy 500 when they get their license (far from it, in fact).

Yes, they really do eat fondue for dinner in Switzerland.

Now comes the sticky part. They eat cheese for meals. Full meals. Fondue is great and the presentation should win an award, but dipping little squres of bread into a small kettle of melted cheese is not dinner. To an American, this is as sustainable as a cracker. It's more of an appetizer or side dish. We need meat with our meals in order to satisfy our carnivorous habit. This being said, there are some terriffic cheeses in Switzerland and they don't all contain holes.

Then there's the walking. To say the Swiss like to walk is to say Americans have a fondness for football. It's more like an obsession. And not walking like an American, who is too lazy to even return the shopping cart to the grocery store door, preferring instead to leave it in the parking lot.

The Swiss, on the other hand, think nothing of walking several kilometers a day. Not to go anywhere in particular, mind you, but simply for the pleasure of it all.

On a press tour put on by Tourism Switzerland, I was in the fun village of Saas-Fee. We put on "snow racquets" as they call them, and went for what I envisioned to be a simple stroll through the snow.

Whoa, was I wrong! The guide pointed to a structure halfway up the Swiss Alps and very calmly announced it as our destination. It was so high up and far away, I had to squint to make it out in the distance.

"You've got to be kidding," I said to our Swiss Tourism host, the lively Eugenio Ganazzi.

"We don't joke in Switzerland," Eugenio proclaimed.

And, indeed, we walked there. In the snow. Up the hill. Every time I thought we had arrived, I was greeted by another hill. To an American, if this destination were such a special place, we would drive to it. Take a cab.

But that's not the point. To the Swiss, it's not the destination that is the objective but the journey.

Then there is the matter of the T-bar. A European reading this may say "so what," while an American is likely to say "what's a T-bar?"

Well, I'lll tell you. A T-bar is a tow rope with a plastic device attached at every few intervals that is supposed to pull people up the side of a ski slope. To someone accustomed to the comfort of chair lifts, this is as foreign as the Swiss language.

First time, first attempt. I was on my butt in seconds.

I would like to credit the lovely Denise (left) of Tourism Lenk for keeping me from mangling myself on this strange contraption. But in reality, it was a heron, a helpful ski instructor from Norway who, a day earlier, initially got me going in Saas-Fee.

It was Denise, however, who allowed me to gain a measure of confidence with the darned things. Otherwise, I may have spent my entire time in Lenk at the Tipi Bar.

Denise is one of those captivating Swiss girls who simply make Switzerland more beautiful. She's a native of Lenk, dynamic and about the size of my suitcase who is as natural on skis as I am in tennis shoes. At the point of T-bar departure, Denise would toss the thing aside like an old boyfriend. It was nice skiing with her.

And she's not the only Swiss that I miss from that country. There's Samanta of Saas-Fee tourism, a wide-eyed wonder who was impressed with my sunset photos of my home in Manhattan Beach, CA. She's as sweet as Swiss chocolate.

There's also Estelle, the exquisite bartender at Zur Muhle, one of Saas-Fee's apres bars. And the darling dames from Tourism Bern and Tourism Zurich, Flurina and Claire, that showed me those fine and fun cities.

The lively Eugenio with The Bartender at a "forest fondue" in Lenk.

And of course Eugenio, who may not joke but he sure does laugh. He makes others do the same, as well.

Yes, another beer for The Bartender in another Swiss bar.

So I'm not a Swiss. I'm an American.

But Switzerland, would you be open to adopting me?

Please?

Best Job at the Long Beach Grand Prix

See more pictures at: http://www.pubclub.com/bartender/gpbestjob.htm

WHO HAS THE BEST JOB AT THE LONG BEACH GRAND PRIX? IT'S ME!

There are the guys in the broadcast booth, who get up close with all the stars, call the race from a place of comfort with every conceivable camera angle in front of them and are invited to all the fun parties and events.

The public address announcer who describes the action for three days from a perch just above the pits, close enough to nearly reach out and touch the cars (the legendary Bruce Flanders).

Not even the race announcers have it this good.
Photo: JackFleming.com

The photographers who follow the action from the pits to right against the track to alongside the celebrities.

The race car drivers themselves. After all, they get to roar down Shoreline Drive at 190 mph without fear of getting a speeding ticket (exceeding 40 mph for the rest of us does the trick).

So who has Best Job at the annual Toyota Grand Prix of Long Beach?

It's me! I have the the absolute, undisputed Best Job at the Grand Prix.

Even at sponor parties, we all stay together.

My role is Media Director of the Tecate Light Miss Toyota Grand Prix of Long Beach Race Team. What this means is that on race weekends I lead the girls around the facility, get them press coverage, watch over them at victory circle, escort them to sponsor parties and, in general, spend three days as their constant companion.

Yes, I'm that guy who is standing next to the girls when fans stop them for pictures, who is leading that train of beauties in their cool-looking grid suits, who is going backstage with them at the swimwear and competition parts of the pageant.

Heck, I'm almost jealous of myself!

Sometimes, the group joins in with the likes of the Patron girls.

Of course, there's a team involved. Loriann Valencia, who in 2009 put the whole thing together, keeps things together and is the "den mother" (and a hot one at that). Allison, Julie, Chris and others at the Grand Prix who make many of the arrangements. The press room golf cart drivers who whisk us around so the girls don't have to walk everywhere. And I must mention Rosko Dickenson of ProCon Leisure in Australia,who got me involved in all this in the first place.

Constantly at the Grand Prix, I hear "you've got the best job," or "how can I get your job," or "tough job you have there."

Hanging with the gorgeous Lauren Garder is another perk of the position.

Much of this comes from the media or PR reps with whom I've worked for years in another capacity. I was Advance PR person for CART and Champ Car, which means I rolled around race tracks hauling media to drivers and drivers to media.

We're headed to the grid!

Now those people see me in the media center, are ready to say "hi" as they normally would at a race, then notice a stream of beautiful girls following behind me. (Good thing I'm single, right? Well, only recently right before the most recent Grand Prix, in fact.)

They are correct in their assessment, of course. I know this because I used to be on the "other side." Before this great show of girls came to Long Beach (thanks to Rosko) it was on full display at places like Toronto and Vancouver.

One duty has been to organize a shoot with the broadcast network.

That's when, in my previous role, I would be doing something at some place around the track and suddenly girls in grid suits would appear from around a corner. I would have to use every piece of influence to get a good position to watch the contests, which were the Saturday highlight events.

Now I'm the guy leading girls in grid suits from around those corners and fielding inquiries about how to get a good spot for the contest.

And instead of spending qualifying sessions pacing the pit lane to get a glimpse of a screen showing timing and scoring, then streaking to reel in the Top 3 drivers to be sure they get to the press conference, or the race glued to the monitor so I can assist the media with any questions they may have, I'm relaxing with the girls in the sponsored Tecate hospitality tent with great food and a mariachi band. Taking them on a tour of the pit row suites.

Heck, before this assignment I didn't even know where the entrances to the pit row suites were located! I never had any cause to go there.

It's not a perfect existence, of course. In 2009, we were faced with the unfortunate situation of having to replace our first runner-up. She felt she should have won, was not a team player and displayed a constant poor attitude.

Good thing the job doesn't require picking a winner.

It was part of my job, along with Loriann, to tell her to turn in her grid suit and sash. This also involved pulling out an old PR tool, the Issues Book, to properly prepare the remaining girls for any media questions about the change.

But, of course, that's a small chicane on the fast track that is this job, Any drama created by a girl here or there pales in comparison to what I used to do at the tracks.

And it is that experience that makes me ideally suited for the job. I know the sport, the key players, the drivers, promoters, PR people, sponsors and the media. And I know how to get things done.

The Miss GP girls in position for the champagne spray "money shot."
Photo: JackFleming.com

I did not get this position because of some wealthy relative. I am not a helmet holder or "handler." I even slightly cringe at the word "publicist" because it brings to mind people in Hollywood who do nothing other than stand there and wait for media to come to them so they can turn them away.

I am results oriented and am aggressive about getting coverage for clients. That is why the girls are always on the go at the Grand Prix; I'm out looking for media, exposure and photo opportunities.

But enough about me. Enjoy photos of the girls! Thanks to Jack Fleming of Jack Fleming Photography for being part of the team this year. The Procon Leisure photographer is Simon Leung. The 2009 Tecate Light Miss Toyota Grand Prix of Long Beach was also sponsored by Ed Hardy bikinis and Glitter Mendhi.