Well, it's just that he built it up so...

Last weekend, when my dad informed me that there was a memorial service at a senior home on Saturday for everyone in the area who passed away in the last year, I groaned to the voice mail recording. I told Nick, "I can't keep doing this. I can't keep moving forward when people keep pulling me back." My mother died. It's never far from mind. Memorial services just tear at the wound.

Nick rested his arm around my shoulders to soothe....understanding. "Besides, the Kentucky Derby is next weekend. You don't want to miss that. And it's been scheduled longer than that memorial service. Always the first weekend in May." I'm paraphrasing... so Nick, don't point out that you didn't say it exactly that way.

On Wednesday, while I sat at the volleyball court watching Nick and his family play, they discussed the Kentucky Derby. Nick looked at me and said, "See! Everybody knows it's Kentucky Derby weekend!"

Well, by the time Saturday came, I had forgotten all about it. Shameful, I know...but that's the way it is. When the time came, Nick situated me at his side in front of the television. He started talking about Mint Juleps, delving into the rich history of the Kentucky Derby. He hushed me as the race began...and two minutes later it was over. All that talk for 2 minutes? I felt gypped.

Nick became lippy...questioning what? Did I think the horses would run around and around and around? I shrugged, adding that that was how Nascar seemed to work. Nick removed his glasses—his termed "HD" glasses...the eyepieces he can go without but that make everything high-def when he doesn't...the frames that he attests he only wears for dramatic effect, to show the shortness of his patience and the disbelief in his comrade's idiocy—and rubbed his eyes in his Oscar winning way.

All the while, I secretly rejoiced at wasting such a small bit of time on this silliness.