Saturday, January 31, 2009
We will, we will....
Enjoy the Super Bowl everyone. I've got my first race of the year, a 5K. I'm just hoping for under 23 minutes; I doubt I'll get a better time than that as I haven't hit the intervals hard for a while.
Friday, January 30, 2009
All work and little play
Sometimes I worried about what kind of a parent I was when I would dread - and I do mean dream - days like today, when I've got all three kids, all day long.
How could I dislike, even occasionally, hate spending that much time with my kids and be a loving parent?
Well, I thought about that, in bed, with the covers pulled to my nose, as my wife fixed them breakfast downstairs before she handed them over to me.
And I feel better about it.
It's not my kids. I love my kids dearly. I love nurturing them.
But the nurturing doesn't happen most of the time. Most of the time, parenting is work.
That's it. It's hard work. It's hard, exhausting, numbing, tedious, even disgusting work, sometimes for 14-16 hours, and it starts at 6 a.m. and doesn't end until 8 p.m. (if we're lucky, many times you work overtime in the middle of the night). It leaves little time with your partner - you're lucky to get in a half-hour during the day, and usually by then you're too tired to do anything about that.
Almost everyone I've talked to say parenting is rewarding, the most rewarding thing they've done, they say. I'd agree with that. But it's not always rewarding. In fact, many times it isn't.
This, I think, is especially true when you have twins. The nurturing usually gets replaced by more work. Reading a book is rewarding, but it's hard to do that when the other one is either trying to crawl up, too, or is playing with a socket. Dressing, diapers, feeding, whatever, take twice as long, and that cuts into the nurturing time as well. Throw in the toddler, and we're basically screwed.
No, it's not the woman who had eight kids, but you get the idea.
Getting up in the middle of the night for three years is not rewarding. Shit fits are not rewarding. And here's how my day started today. Literally two minutes after I had put Allie in a fresh diaper and dressed her in a cute overalls outfit, she exploded, shitting her diaper so hard I'm surprised it didn't lift her to the ceiling. It was everywhere.
Then, when I got through cleaning that up, I walked outside, and Jayden said, "I pooped." Same thing. He destroyed his pants.
If you can find anything at all rewarding about that, let me know. Because I can't.
The moments that make it worth it help salve everything else. But those moments don't come often enough. And now I have to go. I smell more poop, and the mall and its play area awaits.
How could I dislike, even occasionally, hate spending that much time with my kids and be a loving parent?
Well, I thought about that, in bed, with the covers pulled to my nose, as my wife fixed them breakfast downstairs before she handed them over to me.
And I feel better about it.
It's not my kids. I love my kids dearly. I love nurturing them.
But the nurturing doesn't happen most of the time. Most of the time, parenting is work.
That's it. It's hard work. It's hard, exhausting, numbing, tedious, even disgusting work, sometimes for 14-16 hours, and it starts at 6 a.m. and doesn't end until 8 p.m. (if we're lucky, many times you work overtime in the middle of the night). It leaves little time with your partner - you're lucky to get in a half-hour during the day, and usually by then you're too tired to do anything about that.
Almost everyone I've talked to say parenting is rewarding, the most rewarding thing they've done, they say. I'd agree with that. But it's not always rewarding. In fact, many times it isn't.
This, I think, is especially true when you have twins. The nurturing usually gets replaced by more work. Reading a book is rewarding, but it's hard to do that when the other one is either trying to crawl up, too, or is playing with a socket. Dressing, diapers, feeding, whatever, take twice as long, and that cuts into the nurturing time as well. Throw in the toddler, and we're basically screwed.
No, it's not the woman who had eight kids, but you get the idea.
Getting up in the middle of the night for three years is not rewarding. Shit fits are not rewarding. And here's how my day started today. Literally two minutes after I had put Allie in a fresh diaper and dressed her in a cute overalls outfit, she exploded, shitting her diaper so hard I'm surprised it didn't lift her to the ceiling. It was everywhere.
Then, when I got through cleaning that up, I walked outside, and Jayden said, "I pooped." Same thing. He destroyed his pants.
If you can find anything at all rewarding about that, let me know. Because I can't.
The moments that make it worth it help salve everything else. But those moments don't come often enough. And now I have to go. I smell more poop, and the mall and its play area awaits.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Crossroads
I'm actually going to write about poker, since I have a lot on my mind and need to work through a couple issues through the writing.
So allow me to sit on your couch, will you?
I will finish the month down. But you knew that. No one starts a post like this one to say they've won thousands, at least without expecting to get a lime tossed at your head at the next Vegas gathering.
I have played at .50/$1 NL since September on PokerStars. Some of you might scoff at that, but it's the highest level I've consistently played since I started playing for real money back in 2005. I've always been a grinder, and a happy one at that, and felt no need to move up too far because I was making money and enjoying the game.
I moved up in September because I had the bankroll for it and thought I could take a shot.
Results, well, have been mixed.
I actually was ahead before this month. But not by much. It's been a hard month. Two full houses lost to better full houses. Suckouts. The usual. Blah blah blah.
But it hasn't just been that. I honestly believe the players are significantly better than I've ever played before. That could be the UIEGA (OU812?) act finally weeding out many of the fish. That could be because the players are just better in general - it's a long way away from 2005. But I think it might be the level. I see Supernovas. The other day I saw an Elite Supernova at my table.
I'm being pushed off many pots. I'm being outplayed, at least I think so. I've faced more tough decisions. I know it's not the money in front of me. I'm comfortable with the level.
But here's the thing. I'm wondering if I should put or move back to my killing grounds at .25/.50 NL.
Where I know I can win.
Probably.
I've also started playing Omaha (not that stupid game where you split every pot) and Razz, both at low limits. That's a great way to improve your overall game. It made me realize I've got a serious leak. I play way too many hands out of position. I always paid attention to position, but I didn't realize how important it really is until I played Omaha on a regular basis. This will amuse some of you, but I actually need to tighten up. I'm multi-tabling and making calls with shit like Q-J in early position, hoping to just see a flop, and then the flop comes Q-high and what do you do?
It also made me realize that playing those lower limits can just be easier. I'm playing $25 Pot-Limit Omaha, and I am not a terrific player, but man, i'm killing that game. I usually play shorthanded and people still just hand you money. They can't lay down anything, two pair, an overpair, and they chase flushes and straights on paired boards. Rookie shit. The stuff's that's made me money in the past three years.
The stuff I just don't see any longer at $100 NLHE.
So here's what I'm asking myself:
1. Why do I play? I love the game, but do I love the big pots, the larger bets and the fact that I'm pushing myself, or can I honestly play at $50 NL and be happy? Ultimately, yes, but will it be as exciting? I honestly don't know, especially if those tables are filled with the same nits who I'm seeing at the higher level.
2. I know I need to get better, and I know what I need to do. I need to work on taking advantage of my position, opening up my range in later position and tightening up early. Should I move down to do this, or will that be fruitless since I won't see the same level of player. I've said in the past I need to be more aggressive, but I'm serious about it now, and I don't even see it as being a lot more aggressive as being more opportunistic. I've just started on this with some decent results.
3. How much am I willing to lose to get better? My bankroll is super healthy for $100 NL, but poker is, ultimately, a hobby, and I don't need to blow a bunch of money to get marginally better at it. I can move up to the next level of play, but how much am I willing to do to get there, especially with modest goals in this game and many more important things in my life, like climbing, training, writing and my family?
4. Why bother with $100 NL, and why not just play $50 NL and play more Omaha, a game I am beating (if it wasn't for Omaha this month, I would have lost more than just a trio or quartet of buy-ins).
So allow me to sit on your couch, will you?
I will finish the month down. But you knew that. No one starts a post like this one to say they've won thousands, at least without expecting to get a lime tossed at your head at the next Vegas gathering.
I have played at .50/$1 NL since September on PokerStars. Some of you might scoff at that, but it's the highest level I've consistently played since I started playing for real money back in 2005. I've always been a grinder, and a happy one at that, and felt no need to move up too far because I was making money and enjoying the game.
I moved up in September because I had the bankroll for it and thought I could take a shot.
Results, well, have been mixed.
I actually was ahead before this month. But not by much. It's been a hard month. Two full houses lost to better full houses. Suckouts. The usual. Blah blah blah.
But it hasn't just been that. I honestly believe the players are significantly better than I've ever played before. That could be the UIEGA (OU812?) act finally weeding out many of the fish. That could be because the players are just better in general - it's a long way away from 2005. But I think it might be the level. I see Supernovas. The other day I saw an Elite Supernova at my table.
I'm being pushed off many pots. I'm being outplayed, at least I think so. I've faced more tough decisions. I know it's not the money in front of me. I'm comfortable with the level.
But here's the thing. I'm wondering if I should put or move back to my killing grounds at .25/.50 NL.
Where I know I can win.
Probably.
I've also started playing Omaha (not that stupid game where you split every pot) and Razz, both at low limits. That's a great way to improve your overall game. It made me realize I've got a serious leak. I play way too many hands out of position. I always paid attention to position, but I didn't realize how important it really is until I played Omaha on a regular basis. This will amuse some of you, but I actually need to tighten up. I'm multi-tabling and making calls with shit like Q-J in early position, hoping to just see a flop, and then the flop comes Q-high and what do you do?
It also made me realize that playing those lower limits can just be easier. I'm playing $25 Pot-Limit Omaha, and I am not a terrific player, but man, i'm killing that game. I usually play shorthanded and people still just hand you money. They can't lay down anything, two pair, an overpair, and they chase flushes and straights on paired boards. Rookie shit. The stuff's that's made me money in the past three years.
The stuff I just don't see any longer at $100 NLHE.
So here's what I'm asking myself:
1. Why do I play? I love the game, but do I love the big pots, the larger bets and the fact that I'm pushing myself, or can I honestly play at $50 NL and be happy? Ultimately, yes, but will it be as exciting? I honestly don't know, especially if those tables are filled with the same nits who I'm seeing at the higher level.
2. I know I need to get better, and I know what I need to do. I need to work on taking advantage of my position, opening up my range in later position and tightening up early. Should I move down to do this, or will that be fruitless since I won't see the same level of player. I've said in the past I need to be more aggressive, but I'm serious about it now, and I don't even see it as being a lot more aggressive as being more opportunistic. I've just started on this with some decent results.
3. How much am I willing to lose to get better? My bankroll is super healthy for $100 NL, but poker is, ultimately, a hobby, and I don't need to blow a bunch of money to get marginally better at it. I can move up to the next level of play, but how much am I willing to do to get there, especially with modest goals in this game and many more important things in my life, like climbing, training, writing and my family?
4. Why bother with $100 NL, and why not just play $50 NL and play more Omaha, a game I am beating (if it wasn't for Omaha this month, I would have lost more than just a trio or quartet of buy-ins).
Friday, January 23, 2009
Competitive solatire
Before I discovered poker, I went through all kinds of games to ease my itch and find a way to quiet my busy brain for a few moments.
I went through Risk on my old black and white Macintosh, Cribbage, You Don't Know Jack trivia, but there was one thing that probably consumed me more than all others.
When I was in high school, Solitaire was my thing.
We used to greet each other as we filed into and out of the journalism room with "4K" or "7K!". That meant the points he/she scored on Solitaire on the tiny Macs we used to put the yearbooks and newspapers together. Calls like "All Four Aces" and "Boardlocked!" It was stupid to spend so much time on such a simple game. I was determined to never let it happen again, after I broke away from it from an intense rehab session of smacking my wrist with a rubber band every time I thought of it.
So I'm doing my best after discovering Game Duell .
Before you roll your eyes and think I'm just doing a shill post, I'm not. I just thought you'd want to know about this. It's a site that allows you to bet on Solitaire duels. You can play Solitaire, for real money (at low low low stakes). I played for a half hour the other day.
Somebody help me.
I went through Risk on my old black and white Macintosh, Cribbage, You Don't Know Jack trivia, but there was one thing that probably consumed me more than all others.
When I was in high school, Solitaire was my thing.
We used to greet each other as we filed into and out of the journalism room with "4K" or "7K!". That meant the points he/she scored on Solitaire on the tiny Macs we used to put the yearbooks and newspapers together. Calls like "All Four Aces" and "Boardlocked!" It was stupid to spend so much time on such a simple game. I was determined to never let it happen again, after I broke away from it from an intense rehab session of smacking my wrist with a rubber band every time I thought of it.
So I'm doing my best after discovering Game Duell .
Before you roll your eyes and think I'm just doing a shill post, I'm not. I just thought you'd want to know about this. It's a site that allows you to bet on Solitaire duels. You can play Solitaire, for real money (at low low low stakes). I played for a half hour the other day.
Somebody help me.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Gastrological gamble
I am a simple man.
Since I had kids, I am even easier to please.
A 3-year-old and two 20-month-old girls have forced me to give up many of the things I used to enjoy. I know I can't indulge in such hedonistic pleasures as sleeping past 6 a.m., a moment's peace when I get home from work or eating dinner sitting down.
Pleasures now come in the little things in life, like when I open one of the girl's diaper and I don't see something that looks like someone dumped a can of Hershey's syrup down her pants (unfortunately, it does not smell that way).
But now, this salmonella scare is making me question one thing I just can't sacrifice.
Peanut butter.
What do you mean peanut butter is going to make me sick? Or kill me? Or make me crap faster than flame from a rocket? I realize the jars are safe. But the jar is the puddin' in the pie. I want everything.
I stared at the Peanut Butter M&Ms, one of my favorite things in the world, in my cart Sunday as I was buying some lunch. I had just run eight miles, I sniveled to myself. I deserved them. But I kept thinking about cramping and death by potty (and all joking aside, people have died from this latest scare), and after a bit, I put them down.
So then I went over to the ice cream aisle just to look.
Ice cream just might be my biggest food vice. That or queso and chips. But I have basically given it up. It's fattening as hell, and every pound on my ass is one more minute in my races. We runners like to be lean, and I already have trouble being as lean as I can. Ingesting 850 calories in a bowl every night isn't a way to do that.
But I have been running a lot again, in preparation for two tough half marathons coming this spring, and I thought I deserved a treat, if I could something that sounded good. Hmm. Let's see.
Uh oh.
My favorite. Peanut Butter Cup. Double Churned, so it's half the calories, but you don't really notice that. Still....it's peanut butter.....
I am a poker player, so that means I am not a huge risk-taker. But I, like all poker players, do have a little gamble in me.
The bowl Sunday night was delicious. And so far, so good.
Since I had kids, I am even easier to please.
A 3-year-old and two 20-month-old girls have forced me to give up many of the things I used to enjoy. I know I can't indulge in such hedonistic pleasures as sleeping past 6 a.m., a moment's peace when I get home from work or eating dinner sitting down.
Pleasures now come in the little things in life, like when I open one of the girl's diaper and I don't see something that looks like someone dumped a can of Hershey's syrup down her pants (unfortunately, it does not smell that way).
But now, this salmonella scare is making me question one thing I just can't sacrifice.
Peanut butter.
What do you mean peanut butter is going to make me sick? Or kill me? Or make me crap faster than flame from a rocket? I realize the jars are safe. But the jar is the puddin' in the pie. I want everything.
I stared at the Peanut Butter M&Ms, one of my favorite things in the world, in my cart Sunday as I was buying some lunch. I had just run eight miles, I sniveled to myself. I deserved them. But I kept thinking about cramping and death by potty (and all joking aside, people have died from this latest scare), and after a bit, I put them down.
So then I went over to the ice cream aisle just to look.
Ice cream just might be my biggest food vice. That or queso and chips. But I have basically given it up. It's fattening as hell, and every pound on my ass is one more minute in my races. We runners like to be lean, and I already have trouble being as lean as I can. Ingesting 850 calories in a bowl every night isn't a way to do that.
But I have been running a lot again, in preparation for two tough half marathons coming this spring, and I thought I deserved a treat, if I could something that sounded good. Hmm. Let's see.
Uh oh.
My favorite. Peanut Butter Cup. Double Churned, so it's half the calories, but you don't really notice that. Still....it's peanut butter.....
I am a poker player, so that means I am not a huge risk-taker. But I, like all poker players, do have a little gamble in me.
The bowl Sunday night was delicious. And so far, so good.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Targeting your opponents through their stack sizes
I wrote a story for Pokerworks on targeting your opponents through their stack sizes. You can check out the article here.
To summarize, I generally target big stacks and shortstacks in cash games because I think generally they play looser. But I'm interested to hear what you think.
To summarize, I generally target big stacks and shortstacks in cash games because I think generally they play looser. But I'm interested to hear what you think.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
The scavengers hunt
In many ways the twins are getting easier. They are finally - finally - finally - sleeping through the night, for the most part. I'll take for the most part.
They can entertain themselves for the most part, so we don't have to constantly carry one around. I'll take for the most part. In fact, I only want for the most part. I want them to rely on me occasionally. Or else I'm just a guy who wipes poop from their bottom and referees the increase fights over a plastic hot dog.
One thing, though, is harder, and it continues to drive me crazy.
It's the fact that I can't find anything.
We're constantly, and I do mean constantly, looking for juice cups, pacifiers and a special toy or 175 that continually get stuffed into dark corners, trash cans, under couches, in the shower and bathtub, in the toilet and behind the TV. For starters.
Now, given my slightly obsessive personality, I allow these things to bother me when they shouldn't. But they HAVE to bother me after a while, or else we would run out, and then we're supporting Target's toddler division by ourselves. Our house is already a potential treasure trove. Seriously, if a pacifier-driven toddler wants to become the next Indiana Jones, he could come to our house and explore. If he didn't find at least 125 after overturning our house, he needs to turn in his explorer's license.
Let's not even talk about our own stuff. Hairbrushes, toothbrushes, our cell phones, car keys and even my books (one of which found its way to their bath before we saw her with it) all disappear. We all Allie "Swiper" now because of the way she's constantly walking off with things.
This is probably hard with one, too, but it's especially tough with twins because you can't keep an eye on both of them all the time. Mainly you have to focus on the one who is in the most danger at that moment.
I have to make decisions like, OK, Allie is near the stairs, so I should watch that, and then oops, OK, Andie is now crawling up on the window ledge (don't get too horrified, the window is shut, at least most of the time), so she needs to come down, and oops, Allie just grabbed something sharp, and....you get the idea.
I'd write more, but the girls are demanding juice, and I can only see one juice cup.
They can entertain themselves for the most part, so we don't have to constantly carry one around. I'll take for the most part. In fact, I only want for the most part. I want them to rely on me occasionally. Or else I'm just a guy who wipes poop from their bottom and referees the increase fights over a plastic hot dog.
One thing, though, is harder, and it continues to drive me crazy.
It's the fact that I can't find anything.
We're constantly, and I do mean constantly, looking for juice cups, pacifiers and a special toy or 175 that continually get stuffed into dark corners, trash cans, under couches, in the shower and bathtub, in the toilet and behind the TV. For starters.
Now, given my slightly obsessive personality, I allow these things to bother me when they shouldn't. But they HAVE to bother me after a while, or else we would run out, and then we're supporting Target's toddler division by ourselves. Our house is already a potential treasure trove. Seriously, if a pacifier-driven toddler wants to become the next Indiana Jones, he could come to our house and explore. If he didn't find at least 125 after overturning our house, he needs to turn in his explorer's license.
Let's not even talk about our own stuff. Hairbrushes, toothbrushes, our cell phones, car keys and even my books (one of which found its way to their bath before we saw her with it) all disappear. We all Allie "Swiper" now because of the way she's constantly walking off with things.
This is probably hard with one, too, but it's especially tough with twins because you can't keep an eye on both of them all the time. Mainly you have to focus on the one who is in the most danger at that moment.
I have to make decisions like, OK, Allie is near the stairs, so I should watch that, and then oops, OK, Andie is now crawling up on the window ledge (don't get too horrified, the window is shut, at least most of the time), so she needs to come down, and oops, Allie just grabbed something sharp, and....you get the idea.
I'd write more, but the girls are demanding juice, and I can only see one juice cup.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
When you do play online poker?
Just a quick thought. If poker really is exploding across the country, helping sites like PokerStars grow despite the obvious downturn of U.S. customers, why are we all continuing to play when it's likely more U.S. customers will be playing?
Shouldn't we take advantage of all that new fish across the seas?
The reasons are pretty clear, of course. We can't play poker at work (well, I could at one point, but that was before half our newspaper staff was chopped and I'm actually busy now). So we have to play at night. And a lot of us can't play in the early morning hours, and if we do, usually beer is the reason why.
But is anyone else with me on this? Are there times when the waters might be fishy instead of the increasing number of sharks that swim at U.S. hours? I'm still winning, but I do fear that eventually I'll be next, maybe as soon as the end of this year. So if I played at 6:45 a.m. before I went to work, would that be better?
What do you all think?
Shouldn't we take advantage of all that new fish across the seas?
The reasons are pretty clear, of course. We can't play poker at work (well, I could at one point, but that was before half our newspaper staff was chopped and I'm actually busy now). So we have to play at night. And a lot of us can't play in the early morning hours, and if we do, usually beer is the reason why.
But is anyone else with me on this? Are there times when the waters might be fishy instead of the increasing number of sharks that swim at U.S. hours? I'm still winning, but I do fear that eventually I'll be next, maybe as soon as the end of this year. So if I played at 6:45 a.m. before I went to work, would that be better?
What do you all think?
Sunday, January 04, 2009
A rest in peace
My grandfather was fiercely independent. He lived by himself for 20 years after Grandma died, in a house way up in a woodsy, suspiciously Unibomber-like area and later in a trailer in Susanville, Calif. He bitched about almost everyone he encountered and was bluntly honest about their shortcomings.
He was also, probably, the best grandparent I had. His independence was who he was. It was a trait he passed along to me. And it didn't make him a bitter malcontent.
He slept in a trailer with my brother and I despite the torture it lashed upon his back. He was my favorite cribbage partner. He ppassed along his love of ice cream to me. He spent time with me when he saw us, and he did so willingly, with loud guffaws and heapings of "christ"s and "dammit"s.
That independence served him well for many years, as he still lived alone, in that trailer, happily, rather than waste away in a nursing home. He lived 92 years because of that.
Soon after my visit in September, a visit I'm now grateful I made, my first in at least a decade, shingles and his heart finally started to chip away at his concrete foundation. He entered the hospital and was forced to stay with my aunt. And the independence, which served him so well for so many years, was a prison.
He was miserable and slowly declined, slipping down into a life of tubes and medications and caretakers. Mom hated this for him. So did I. No one wants this for a family member. That's why we put our pets to sleep when they're on that path.
Mom called Saturday. Grandpa died. He died with my aunt by his side. Peacefully.
It will be a bit sadder without him in my life. But relief, rather than grief, fills most of my heart.
He was also, probably, the best grandparent I had. His independence was who he was. It was a trait he passed along to me. And it didn't make him a bitter malcontent.
He slept in a trailer with my brother and I despite the torture it lashed upon his back. He was my favorite cribbage partner. He ppassed along his love of ice cream to me. He spent time with me when he saw us, and he did so willingly, with loud guffaws and heapings of "christ"s and "dammit"s.
That independence served him well for many years, as he still lived alone, in that trailer, happily, rather than waste away in a nursing home. He lived 92 years because of that.
Soon after my visit in September, a visit I'm now grateful I made, my first in at least a decade, shingles and his heart finally started to chip away at his concrete foundation. He entered the hospital and was forced to stay with my aunt. And the independence, which served him so well for so many years, was a prison.
He was miserable and slowly declined, slipping down into a life of tubes and medications and caretakers. Mom hated this for him. So did I. No one wants this for a family member. That's why we put our pets to sleep when they're on that path.
Mom called Saturday. Grandpa died. He died with my aunt by his side. Peacefully.
It will be a bit sadder without him in my life. But relief, rather than grief, fills most of my heart.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
I need a vacation from this vacation
Vacations are supposed to be times to relax, to chill, to let the stress of the year seep through your pores.
I'm not sure why, then, most vacations are spent on visiting family.
When, you know, you bring the kids.
This vacation was anything but relaxing. The kids have taken whine steroids and are now overdosing on Linda Blair-like behavoir after being shuttled to strange places for the last week. If I escape with any semblance of my sanity, and my hearing, after we get home on Friday it will be a minor miracle, not walking on water, but definitely on par with a three-pointer to tie the title game with no time left.
I came down with a bug or got food poisoning from Taco Tico - not sure which, though I am blaming Taco Tico for now - and suffered the seat blows for several days. The good news is I really didn't eat nearly as much as I planned. The bad news is I didn't run nearly as much either, and when I tried running today, well, it sucked. I felt like I'd never laced up my shoes.
No doubt, this was a fun trip, and there's still a couple more days to go. It's always nice to see the rents, even in separate places, and they all were a big help with the kids. Kate and I got some time to ourselves, though we were, ahem, interrupted today in the morning by the toddler.
But vacations, I think I'm learning, are not designed to relax. They are there to remind you that life at home, though it may seem like a grind, is really pretty good.
I'm not sure why, then, most vacations are spent on visiting family.
When, you know, you bring the kids.
This vacation was anything but relaxing. The kids have taken whine steroids and are now overdosing on Linda Blair-like behavoir after being shuttled to strange places for the last week. If I escape with any semblance of my sanity, and my hearing, after we get home on Friday it will be a minor miracle, not walking on water, but definitely on par with a three-pointer to tie the title game with no time left.
I came down with a bug or got food poisoning from Taco Tico - not sure which, though I am blaming Taco Tico for now - and suffered the seat blows for several days. The good news is I really didn't eat nearly as much as I planned. The bad news is I didn't run nearly as much either, and when I tried running today, well, it sucked. I felt like I'd never laced up my shoes.
No doubt, this was a fun trip, and there's still a couple more days to go. It's always nice to see the rents, even in separate places, and they all were a big help with the kids. Kate and I got some time to ourselves, though we were, ahem, interrupted today in the morning by the toddler.
But vacations, I think I'm learning, are not designed to relax. They are there to remind you that life at home, though it may seem like a grind, is really pretty good.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Saturday's session from hell
Poker on the Kansas City boats on Saturday night was one of the worst sessions I've ever endured. It was the kind of session that makes you wonder about the future of poker, your style of play and even why you play at all.
The first hour, at the Ameristar, started out great, despite the fact that the best player at the table was directly on my left. I flopped two sets and bet them aggressively, and I was $100 up when I listened a little too much about how Harrah's was taking over the poker scene and decided to give it a shot. The players at my table were all tight, solid slingers, and I wanted easy money.
Just my luck, then, that at Harrah's, I was seated at a screw-tight table, where I didn't get paid for a flush, most of my rare pre-flop raises gathered the blinds and nothing else and no one else was doing any better. I doubt the dealer made more than a few bucks in tips during their half-hour shifts.
When a few young, cocky but cool kids (you know the type, if you don't, you haven't sat at a poker table for very long) sat down, it helped loosen things up, but by then I had endured a series of coolers that left me a little beaten down.
I flopped trips with A-10, only to lose to A-J. My pair of Aces with A-Q got bumped by a straight with crap cards on the turn. TPgreatK, with a J on the board, gave another guy two pair. I had A-Q three times and A-K twice and not once did it hit, and neither did my straight and flush draw with J-10 sooted (15 outs twice my ass). I dumped A-K once when a guy re-raised and showed me K-K. I was through flopping sets despite seeing at least 20 small pocket pairs and calling some raises with them.
I finally lost the rest, not much, when I flopped top two pair and lost to a flopped flush when the guy played 8-3 of hearts.
I bought in for another $200 and raised with A-J and got two pair on the flop, with A-J-5. The youngest, cockiest guy looked very interested, so I checked and let him bet it for me. He obliged. There were no flush draws out there, so I just called. I did the same on the turn, only when he bet $30, I raised to $80. He instantly pushed and instantly called. I knew I was ahead. Sure enough, he showed A-5, I flipped over A-J, and I didn't notice he was on a spade draw until the last one fell and the dealer pushed the pot his way. Runner, runner flush.
I wasn't pissed at him. He had a hand. But I was a bit whiny inside at that point. Really? I managed to escape all those other beats with the minimum lost. I had endured a shitload of coolers, and I played the last hand well, trapping him despite my extremely tight image. It was my chance to be rewarded for my patient, observant, egoless play.
Poker, at times, is a very cruel game.
I considered my options after I lost my stack again. I finally decided to buy in again, looking at the session as an opportunity to build my mental strength, the way the last three miles of a 15-mile run prepares me for a half marathon. I was determined not to tilt.
I managed to do just that, mainly because you can't really play 10-5 (well, I can't, anyway) and 8-4, and I slunk away at midnight. not really sure what to think.
My tight style was the same style that I saw in Vegas, and the same style I'm seeing now, even at the 1-2 NL tables. I'm wondering if that's all we might see for a long time, with the economy the way it is. You're just aren't going to see people who don't mind blowing $200 for entertainment because they saw poker on TV.
And I can't battle the aggressive style exhibited by those cocky young kids without cards, and those only come so often (or not at all), and even when you do outplay them when you (finally) get a hand, your hand won't always hold up.
It makes me wonder if I'm going to have to change the way I play.
But I'm not worried about that now. I don't know if I ever will. Poker is a recreational hobby for me. it's a profitable one, to be sure. I made more money this year than even two years ago, when the tables were much easier to beat, both live and online.
But it is a hobby, and with my never-ending duties as a parent, and my responsibility to myself to run and climb mountains, I can't take the time to truly study the game to put me at an elite level and dominate tables without cards.
That's OK. Sessions like Saturday's don't come very often. Or if they do, I might have to take up video games again.
The first hour, at the Ameristar, started out great, despite the fact that the best player at the table was directly on my left. I flopped two sets and bet them aggressively, and I was $100 up when I listened a little too much about how Harrah's was taking over the poker scene and decided to give it a shot. The players at my table were all tight, solid slingers, and I wanted easy money.
Just my luck, then, that at Harrah's, I was seated at a screw-tight table, where I didn't get paid for a flush, most of my rare pre-flop raises gathered the blinds and nothing else and no one else was doing any better. I doubt the dealer made more than a few bucks in tips during their half-hour shifts.
When a few young, cocky but cool kids (you know the type, if you don't, you haven't sat at a poker table for very long) sat down, it helped loosen things up, but by then I had endured a series of coolers that left me a little beaten down.
I flopped trips with A-10, only to lose to A-J. My pair of Aces with A-Q got bumped by a straight with crap cards on the turn. TPgreatK, with a J on the board, gave another guy two pair. I had A-Q three times and A-K twice and not once did it hit, and neither did my straight and flush draw with J-10 sooted (15 outs twice my ass). I dumped A-K once when a guy re-raised and showed me K-K. I was through flopping sets despite seeing at least 20 small pocket pairs and calling some raises with them.
I finally lost the rest, not much, when I flopped top two pair and lost to a flopped flush when the guy played 8-3 of hearts.
I bought in for another $200 and raised with A-J and got two pair on the flop, with A-J-5. The youngest, cockiest guy looked very interested, so I checked and let him bet it for me. He obliged. There were no flush draws out there, so I just called. I did the same on the turn, only when he bet $30, I raised to $80. He instantly pushed and instantly called. I knew I was ahead. Sure enough, he showed A-5, I flipped over A-J, and I didn't notice he was on a spade draw until the last one fell and the dealer pushed the pot his way. Runner, runner flush.
I wasn't pissed at him. He had a hand. But I was a bit whiny inside at that point. Really? I managed to escape all those other beats with the minimum lost. I had endured a shitload of coolers, and I played the last hand well, trapping him despite my extremely tight image. It was my chance to be rewarded for my patient, observant, egoless play.
Poker, at times, is a very cruel game.
I considered my options after I lost my stack again. I finally decided to buy in again, looking at the session as an opportunity to build my mental strength, the way the last three miles of a 15-mile run prepares me for a half marathon. I was determined not to tilt.
I managed to do just that, mainly because you can't really play 10-5 (well, I can't, anyway) and 8-4, and I slunk away at midnight. not really sure what to think.
My tight style was the same style that I saw in Vegas, and the same style I'm seeing now, even at the 1-2 NL tables. I'm wondering if that's all we might see for a long time, with the economy the way it is. You're just aren't going to see people who don't mind blowing $200 for entertainment because they saw poker on TV.
And I can't battle the aggressive style exhibited by those cocky young kids without cards, and those only come so often (or not at all), and even when you do outplay them when you (finally) get a hand, your hand won't always hold up.
It makes me wonder if I'm going to have to change the way I play.
But I'm not worried about that now. I don't know if I ever will. Poker is a recreational hobby for me. it's a profitable one, to be sure. I made more money this year than even two years ago, when the tables were much easier to beat, both live and online.
But it is a hobby, and with my never-ending duties as a parent, and my responsibility to myself to run and climb mountains, I can't take the time to truly study the game to put me at an elite level and dominate tables without cards.
That's OK. Sessions like Saturday's don't come very often. Or if they do, I might have to take up video games again.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
An avatar I wish I had
Can you name the video game this is from? You probably can if you were any kind of a gamer.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Review of Pokersoftware.com
There are probably 786,639 Web sites that analyze poker Web sites in the hopes that you'll click on one and give them a piece of the referral pie, but there's one big reason why I liked PokerSoftware.com.
It analyzes the tools you use to play poker, not just the sites you play on.
There's plenty of that, too, if that's what you're actually looking for. You can find reviews of many of the top poker Web sites in the world. One thing I liked about that is the rating is a "community rating," not just one hack's thoughts, so you'll get a truer picture of what all poker players think about the site.
But the soft goes way beyond that. There are ratings of poker tracking software, some with reviews of programs I've never even heard of. I actually learned a lot from reviewing this site, and I can honestly say that doesn't happen very often when I'm asked to write a post about a new poker site. Again, these are listed by community ratings, so you'll get a truer picture of what the users are saying about it.
The site lists the tracking software by an initial description, then bullets some of the highlights of the program, and finally gives a more detailed review below. And those reviews appear to be honest as well, as some of the community reviews were pretty harsh and probably won't be included on anyone's marketing report for that company.
You'll also find video reviews of products and Web sites, and that's also another feature I've never seen on any other site.
But there are reviews and product descriptions of table selection software and tools, odds calculators, buddy lists and SnG tools. You can even find some descriptions of bankroll managers and lots of other software that I've honestly never heard of for poker tournaments and tools to make you a better player.
The reviews aren't as detailed as they could be, but the sheer volume of information on the site means you'll learn a lot even after you've spent hours looking at all the descriptions.
If I'm ever in the market to improve my game, and lord knows I need that, I'm going to head back to PokerSoftware.com. I've got a lot to learn, apparently, and the site will help me find the tools I need. I'm glad I was asked to write a review of this site, as I actually got a lot more than a little extra green to blow at the tables.
It analyzes the tools you use to play poker, not just the sites you play on.
There's plenty of that, too, if that's what you're actually looking for. You can find reviews of many of the top poker Web sites in the world. One thing I liked about that is the rating is a "community rating," not just one hack's thoughts, so you'll get a truer picture of what all poker players think about the site.
But the soft goes way beyond that. There are ratings of poker tracking software, some with reviews of programs I've never even heard of. I actually learned a lot from reviewing this site, and I can honestly say that doesn't happen very often when I'm asked to write a post about a new poker site. Again, these are listed by community ratings, so you'll get a truer picture of what the users are saying about it.
The site lists the tracking software by an initial description, then bullets some of the highlights of the program, and finally gives a more detailed review below. And those reviews appear to be honest as well, as some of the community reviews were pretty harsh and probably won't be included on anyone's marketing report for that company.
You'll also find video reviews of products and Web sites, and that's also another feature I've never seen on any other site.
But there are reviews and product descriptions of table selection software and tools, odds calculators, buddy lists and SnG tools. You can even find some descriptions of bankroll managers and lots of other software that I've honestly never heard of for poker tournaments and tools to make you a better player.
The reviews aren't as detailed as they could be, but the sheer volume of information on the site means you'll learn a lot even after you've spent hours looking at all the descriptions.
If I'm ever in the market to improve my game, and lord knows I need that, I'm going to head back to PokerSoftware.com. I've got a lot to learn, apparently, and the site will help me find the tools I need. I'm glad I was asked to write a review of this site, as I actually got a lot more than a little extra green to blow at the tables.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
And to all, a good night (maybe)
Before a car trip to California to see our grandparents, Mom used to take us to Toys 'R' Us and instructed us to pick out something that would keep us busy in the car for 12 hours a day for two days.
Our choices were, shall we say, limited.
They were, as far as I can remember:
1. An Etch-A-Sketch
2. A Mad Libs book.
3. Another riddle book where you'd run a magic highlighter over the phrase and it would give you the answer, presumably after you'd give it the kind of thought you'd give the million-dollar question on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire with your only lifeline being a phone call to that dorky girl in high school who always had carmel corn in her braces but would let you copy her chemistry homework.
4. A game where you'd push a button that would make a colored piece of plastic floating in water land in a basket.
5. Dozens of books like "Charlotte's Web," "The Great Brain" or one of Stephen King's early offerings (I read him at a pretty young age, which explains a few things).
Or there was the alphabet game, the license plate game or 20 questions.
Eventually, the games deteroriated into "Will you stop touching me", "Stay on your side" and "Punch the brother in the arm."
Good times.
Today, on our car trip across Colorado to Kansas and home, where I'll spend my next week or so playing a bit of poker (report to come later), spending time with Mom and Dad (in separate houses, alas), seeing old friends, enjoying a night or two out away from the kids with Kate and wolfing down as much barbecue as I possibly can, we had more entertainment in the car than I had in the house when I was their age.
We have a built-in DVD that plays a constant stream of "The Backyardigins." They do not have a Game Boy but probably will soon. I had my laptop, which played Season 4 of 'The Wire.' (And this show really is fantastic, if you haven't seen it you must right now. Seriously, stop wrapping last-minute presents and watch it. Your family will understand).
In the end, it wasn't enough, and the twins went into nuclear meltdown in the last half hour. They're still only 19 months, and Pablo and a Moose who only wears a sweater but no pants can only take you so far. Even Jayden seemed to wear down after the 7th hour, asking Kate, "Mom, can you go faster?"
On a side note, don't you wonder what Mary and Joseph did with baby Jesus on those long trips on the donkey? Or did Jesus just wave his hand and they were there? Did you ever wonder what Jesus was like as a baby? Was he fussy? You would think the son of God would be a good baby. Or maybe God was testing Mary, like he did Job, and made Jesus get up at all hours all the time.
Anyway, I have to admit, I was a bit jealous of my kids. I wish we had that entertainment. Those hours just seemed to drag on.
Then again, I don't think I'm as jealous as my parents, who admit that they wished like hell they had something to shut us up.
Our choices were, shall we say, limited.
They were, as far as I can remember:
1. An Etch-A-Sketch
2. A Mad Libs book.
3. Another riddle book where you'd run a magic highlighter over the phrase and it would give you the answer, presumably after you'd give it the kind of thought you'd give the million-dollar question on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire with your only lifeline being a phone call to that dorky girl in high school who always had carmel corn in her braces but would let you copy her chemistry homework.
4. A game where you'd push a button that would make a colored piece of plastic floating in water land in a basket.
5. Dozens of books like "Charlotte's Web," "The Great Brain" or one of Stephen King's early offerings (I read him at a pretty young age, which explains a few things).
Or there was the alphabet game, the license plate game or 20 questions.
Eventually, the games deteroriated into "Will you stop touching me", "Stay on your side" and "Punch the brother in the arm."
Good times.
Today, on our car trip across Colorado to Kansas and home, where I'll spend my next week or so playing a bit of poker (report to come later), spending time with Mom and Dad (in separate houses, alas), seeing old friends, enjoying a night or two out away from the kids with Kate and wolfing down as much barbecue as I possibly can, we had more entertainment in the car than I had in the house when I was their age.
We have a built-in DVD that plays a constant stream of "The Backyardigins." They do not have a Game Boy but probably will soon. I had my laptop, which played Season 4 of 'The Wire.' (And this show really is fantastic, if you haven't seen it you must right now. Seriously, stop wrapping last-minute presents and watch it. Your family will understand).
In the end, it wasn't enough, and the twins went into nuclear meltdown in the last half hour. They're still only 19 months, and Pablo and a Moose who only wears a sweater but no pants can only take you so far. Even Jayden seemed to wear down after the 7th hour, asking Kate, "Mom, can you go faster?"
On a side note, don't you wonder what Mary and Joseph did with baby Jesus on those long trips on the donkey? Or did Jesus just wave his hand and they were there? Did you ever wonder what Jesus was like as a baby? Was he fussy? You would think the son of God would be a good baby. Or maybe God was testing Mary, like he did Job, and made Jesus get up at all hours all the time.
Anyway, I have to admit, I was a bit jealous of my kids. I wish we had that entertainment. Those hours just seemed to drag on.
Then again, I don't think I'm as jealous as my parents, who admit that they wished like hell they had something to shut us up.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Two bits gets you three holy tosses
"Chuck-A-Jesus"
That's how my toddler pronounced Chuck-E-Cheese at his first-ever visit today.
That's how my toddler pronounced Chuck-E-Cheese at his first-ever visit today.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Kansas City Here I Come
I used to look at Christmas as Rankin-Bass specials, lights on people's home and the latest cartridge for my Atari 2600.
I still enjoy the specials, though I think I might be the last generation to do so. And I like the lights, too, though I don't put them on my house, not yet, not until the kids don't require 24-hour surveillance. But Christmas means a lot more now.
It's a chance to get away, get some help with the kids and, most of all, go home.
Vegas was a wonderful getaway, a desperately needed getaway, but even tonight, I found myself having a tough time with the kids around 6:30 p.m. tonight, just before their bedtime. I need a long, extended break. Grandparents are wonderful for their extra set of hands and the chance to get out of the house, and I need that. Kate and I both need that.
It's a chance to run at sea level, too, and eat great food (and that French restaurant sounded awesome, but I don't think there's anything better than a plate full of Kansas City barbecue).
We leave on Christmas Eve.
The anticipation grows. There are some memories to be had, sleep to be won and some space to be enjoyed.
I still enjoy the specials, though I think I might be the last generation to do so. And I like the lights, too, though I don't put them on my house, not yet, not until the kids don't require 24-hour surveillance. But Christmas means a lot more now.
It's a chance to get away, get some help with the kids and, most of all, go home.
Vegas was a wonderful getaway, a desperately needed getaway, but even tonight, I found myself having a tough time with the kids around 6:30 p.m. tonight, just before their bedtime. I need a long, extended break. Grandparents are wonderful for their extra set of hands and the chance to get out of the house, and I need that. Kate and I both need that.
It's a chance to run at sea level, too, and eat great food (and that French restaurant sounded awesome, but I don't think there's anything better than a plate full of Kansas City barbecue).
We leave on Christmas Eve.
The anticipation grows. There are some memories to be had, sleep to be won and some space to be enjoyed.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Sunset to Sunrise
I, like many, approach a trip to Las Vegas as an opportunity.
I use it to practice being someone else.
There's a reason for the slogan "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas." Quite frankly, there aren't many things you can take away from a Vegas vacation and have it be a positive influence on your life.
Then again, most don't attend a get-together with bloggers.
There were two questions people asked me when I told them I was going to spend four days in Vegas. They're pretty standard. What will you be doing, and who are you going with? The first was easy. I don't know, but I'm sure I'll play poker. This year I also told them I was going to see Steel Panther. You'll hear about them a bit later.
The second is a little tougher, so I just told them they were other bloggers. That's a no-no in Vegas, but outside in the normal world I think it's OK. Pauly may disagree.
I stayed up late - or early, depending on your definition, as one day sunset crept into sunrise and I went to bed as the sky turned pink and Mandalay Bay glittered in the first light. Usually I'm getting up to face a girl (or two) bouncing like popcorn in her crib and a toddler who wants to wear his Wall-E underwear today.
I ate poorly.
I ignored my running after Friday, when I snuck in a cool jaunt with KuroKitty/Pokercat Friday morning.
I drank quite a bit more.
I didn't worry when I slept little.
Mostly, though, I let myself go.
I didn't worry about what angle someone might be working on me.
I didn't care what anyone thought of me.
I didn't fret about melting into a group of people I've only met one other time in person, and I allowed myself the space to fit comfortably inside.
I chilled the fuck out.
Many of these trip reports contain blow-by-blow accounts of their weekend. Those are fun to read because of the fractured nature of the gatherings. People you know splinter and find one of the millions of possible adventures these get-togethers offer, only to come back to together and share it with us.
But that's not what you'll find here. That's not who I am. Sometimes my adventures are on display, as my half marathons and trips up Colorado's highest peaks, when I believe others will benefit from that. Other times my journey is my own, shared with a select few, and that's enough.
The memories have already been thrown in the crock pot and are simmering. I'll pull them out when I need a smile, like when a two-outer hits, when a run hurts or when one of the kids is throwing an especially impressive fit.
Thursday night at the Geisha Bar with some of the people whose talents I respect about as much as anyone's, meals and poker with some of my favorite invisible Internet compatriots, my skilled (lucky) run to 6th place in the blogger tournament (when I cashed all my suckout chips for the year by hitting two-outers three times, including two times when I hit quads on the river) NFL Sunday, and, of course, Steel Panther with Blood and Dr. Chako and The Wife and Stb and Otis' brother, will stay in storage with me for a long time. If you have any space in your heart for hair metal at all -and Def Leppard sold 10 million copies of two albums so I know you do, even if you don't want to admit it - you have to see this band at the Green Valley Ranch. As a bonus, you can play poker at easily some of the most profitable tables I've ever enjoyed after the show.
Those memories are nice, but that's not all I want to take away from this trip.
As I've said before, I am a loner in many ways. I am a private person who is generally uncomfortable around people. I rarely trust anyone. I rarely let them beyond my barriers. I see little value in small talk. I prefer to take time getting things accomplished rather than spend it "chatting" with someone.
Resolutions are about improving yourself, and rarely do we stick with them. Some do stick though. I'm a runner now. A close friend finally kicked cigarettes last year. But, like anyone, I need to improve myself.
So now I have two New Year's Resolutions.
The first is to be more patient with my kids. They're my little ones, and they're supposed to try my patience every day. If they don't, they're not exploring or asserting themselves, and they will need both those traits all through their lives. I don't want to squelch them. I want them to thrive. I will try to let them thrive more often, even if it costs me another gray hair that day.
The second is the golden nugget I will take from this trip. I will try to let more people in.
I will talk to strangers. I will call my sources far more than I do. I will try to be more of a family member when we're at Kate's parents.
I will enjoy people's company.
This is easy to say now. I'm coming off a high I get few times in my life. When I can now say that I'm not going to say bloggers, I'm going to see friends, and not just a few.
I know I will not completely change because I don't want to completely change. I love the fact that I can spend hours by myself without the need to text or yahoo or IM or call someone on the phone. I did spend some time in my room during this trip, and it was wonderful.
I know I will also relapse. That's part of the process. I'll shutter people away. But rather than just accept it because "that's just who I am," I will fight against that, for maybe the first time in my life.
Because when I fight that urge, and I let myself be free among friends, good things happen.
I use it to practice being someone else.
There's a reason for the slogan "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas." Quite frankly, there aren't many things you can take away from a Vegas vacation and have it be a positive influence on your life.
Then again, most don't attend a get-together with bloggers.
There were two questions people asked me when I told them I was going to spend four days in Vegas. They're pretty standard. What will you be doing, and who are you going with? The first was easy. I don't know, but I'm sure I'll play poker. This year I also told them I was going to see Steel Panther. You'll hear about them a bit later.
The second is a little tougher, so I just told them they were other bloggers. That's a no-no in Vegas, but outside in the normal world I think it's OK. Pauly may disagree.
I stayed up late - or early, depending on your definition, as one day sunset crept into sunrise and I went to bed as the sky turned pink and Mandalay Bay glittered in the first light. Usually I'm getting up to face a girl (or two) bouncing like popcorn in her crib and a toddler who wants to wear his Wall-E underwear today.
I ate poorly.
I ignored my running after Friday, when I snuck in a cool jaunt with KuroKitty/Pokercat Friday morning.
I drank quite a bit more.
I didn't worry when I slept little.
Mostly, though, I let myself go.
I didn't worry about what angle someone might be working on me.
I didn't care what anyone thought of me.
I didn't fret about melting into a group of people I've only met one other time in person, and I allowed myself the space to fit comfortably inside.
I chilled the fuck out.
Many of these trip reports contain blow-by-blow accounts of their weekend. Those are fun to read because of the fractured nature of the gatherings. People you know splinter and find one of the millions of possible adventures these get-togethers offer, only to come back to together and share it with us.
But that's not what you'll find here. That's not who I am. Sometimes my adventures are on display, as my half marathons and trips up Colorado's highest peaks, when I believe others will benefit from that. Other times my journey is my own, shared with a select few, and that's enough.
The memories have already been thrown in the crock pot and are simmering. I'll pull them out when I need a smile, like when a two-outer hits, when a run hurts or when one of the kids is throwing an especially impressive fit.
Thursday night at the Geisha Bar with some of the people whose talents I respect about as much as anyone's, meals and poker with some of my favorite invisible Internet compatriots, my skilled (lucky) run to 6th place in the blogger tournament (when I cashed all my suckout chips for the year by hitting two-outers three times, including two times when I hit quads on the river) NFL Sunday, and, of course, Steel Panther with Blood and Dr. Chako and The Wife and Stb and Otis' brother, will stay in storage with me for a long time. If you have any space in your heart for hair metal at all -and Def Leppard sold 10 million copies of two albums so I know you do, even if you don't want to admit it - you have to see this band at the Green Valley Ranch. As a bonus, you can play poker at easily some of the most profitable tables I've ever enjoyed after the show.
Those memories are nice, but that's not all I want to take away from this trip.
As I've said before, I am a loner in many ways. I am a private person who is generally uncomfortable around people. I rarely trust anyone. I rarely let them beyond my barriers. I see little value in small talk. I prefer to take time getting things accomplished rather than spend it "chatting" with someone.
Resolutions are about improving yourself, and rarely do we stick with them. Some do stick though. I'm a runner now. A close friend finally kicked cigarettes last year. But, like anyone, I need to improve myself.
So now I have two New Year's Resolutions.
The first is to be more patient with my kids. They're my little ones, and they're supposed to try my patience every day. If they don't, they're not exploring or asserting themselves, and they will need both those traits all through their lives. I don't want to squelch them. I want them to thrive. I will try to let them thrive more often, even if it costs me another gray hair that day.
The second is the golden nugget I will take from this trip. I will try to let more people in.
I will talk to strangers. I will call my sources far more than I do. I will try to be more of a family member when we're at Kate's parents.
I will enjoy people's company.
This is easy to say now. I'm coming off a high I get few times in my life. When I can now say that I'm not going to say bloggers, I'm going to see friends, and not just a few.
I know I will not completely change because I don't want to completely change. I love the fact that I can spend hours by myself without the need to text or yahoo or IM or call someone on the phone. I did spend some time in my room during this trip, and it was wonderful.
I know I will also relapse. That's part of the process. I'll shutter people away. But rather than just accept it because "that's just who I am," I will fight against that, for maybe the first time in my life.
Because when I fight that urge, and I let myself be free among friends, good things happen.
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