Stories of "donkey also-rans that did my dough" were told richly, and striking the double that ended in trouble, in the back bar of the Saint Amand Hotel, tickled my taringa all the way up State Highway 2, to the tote at Pukekohe raceway.
As one memory told floated around the van, another was triggered and accorded with the same recognition of eye-watering laughter as the one before it; as if they were still there in the back bar of the St Amand or Te Puna tavern.
There were classic one-liners and hard-case recalls, all retold with passion for the person who had gone recently or a long time ago.
Billy Boys was the winner on the day, when referring to one of his tin-bum mates that everyone in the van knew but me.
"That bugger was so lucky he could throw his net out on the road and still catch a fish."
If Billy T was in the van, and it felt like he was, his race calling antics could be heard: "It would have been a photo finish, but by the time my horse finished, it was too dark to take a picture."
As would have: "My horse came in so late the jockey was wearing pyjamas."
And: "I bought a horse. In its first race it went out 25 to 1. The only problem is that all the other horses left at 12.30."
For me Billy Boys was the keeper and I kept it on autoplay in my mind all day; for a refresher on how good life really is when we look at it through the eyes of a van full of kaumatua off to Counties on Cup day.
Sometimes when it comes to Saturdays we need to take a step back from the stupidity of life and its associated seriousness.
We need to step back and leave the Allan Titfords for another day.
Saturday was all about looking to the brighter side of life for a better understanding of what makes us human beings bounce.
Once again I was reminded of the therapeutic values of humour when we find every excuse to laugh at - and with - each other.
"A merry heart doeth good like a medicine" comes to mind - in a Catholic kind of biblical bob each way.
On course, at Counties the laughter kept coming.
If it wasn't the fillies and the mares with four legs, then it was their two-legged lookalikes giving us the most laughs.
Some of them started off in race one, prancing around in feathers and frocks like prized trotters.
Then after a skin full of the sponsor's wobbly juice, they were looking like draught horses with the staggers on by the last race.
Was it me or do many of the owners and trainers of these magnificently turned out equines look a little horsey, with their long necks and even longer heads?
They certainly looked that way on Saturday.
I learned a lot on Saturday by listening to the yarns of wise men, who have been around the block and made it back again - to watch their horse run on cup day.
Sure there are those like Titford and his co-conspirators who will say it's a waste of money.
But it is theirs to waste.
They have done their hard yards in life and deserve the luxury of old age and a few laughs that go with it.
We didn't bring back a sugar bag full of "c notes" or even a wallet full of one dollars after our flash feed in Pukekohe.
Nor did we come close to buying that outboard motor for sale on the side of the road when we came through Paeroa.
But with lighter lockets and priceless memories, we were all winners on Cup day at Counties.
broblack@xtra.co.nz
