Conning The Con Men Of Kentucky

First I made a sign. I bought a roll of red tape that was supposed to glow in the dark. I cut the tape into strips and made letters on a white cardboard square: KEN. DERBY.

"That's not how you abbreviate Kentucky."

"Sure it is."

"No, it's k-y period; not k-e-n."

"People will know what I mean."

I left Worcester, Mass. at 1 o'clock the next afternoon, a Thursday. It was cold and there was rain. I got a quick ride the four miles to the entrance of the turnpike. Then I stood for a long time in the rain, holding the sign across my chest.

A car stopped. The driver leaned across the seat.

"Who's Ken Derby?"

"Nobody. This means Kentucky Derby. That's where I'm going."

"Oh. I thought you were promoting some politician." (There was a primary in Massachusetts that year.)