Yes, if one can believe it or not, I've had other things going that have kept me from sitting down to write a post. Of course, I now have fodder. But motivation has been elsewhere. I promise to bring you some bad beat stories, stupid play, funny stories and sad tales, not to mention picture dumps, but it will have to wait a bit.
In the meantime, I want to share a radio interview I had Tuesday, It's about my art, of course, and it happened up north in the big city on the alternative station for the area. After all, you could spend fifteen minutes reading about my recent antics and frets, or you could click on the podcast and listen with one ear while you do something else, which, no doubt is what about 60K other people did.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Here and now
The wife is away for a couple days, leaving me to my own devices, which mostly means leveling a carry-out pizza to my face no less than an hour after her departure. Thin crust is my religion. (There's a pun buried in there, which would be impressive only if I were to find a way to extend it into this parenthetical.)
Otherwise, not much happening here.
Oh, we have a new screen/storm door and changed out the hardware on a couple interior doors. Big clumps of cut grass lay about the yard as the stuff is growing too fast to bag, or rather is growing while too wet to mow.
Speaking of mowing, you might remember our next door neighbors, the ones who keep their lawn trimmed to two inches at all times and all costs. Well, other neighbors, friends, with a better view to that mission were able to satisfy my curiosity about a good two-thirds of the usually manicured place going without.
Seems the wife of that duo is laid up, or bound to a wheelchair and has been for a couple months now. Not that our friends know exactly when she became non-ambulatory, just that they hadn't seen her through their kitchen window for a good while and then spotted her being loaded into a family vehicle.
The cause? Being neighbors and all, you might think a pie delivered to the front door would get answers but no such effort has been made as speaking terms were -inated some time ago. Yet, in that our area is small town, folks know folks who know folks, and rather well at that. Nothing. Not even privy kin.
A parallel exists here at the homestead as well, estrangement remarkably and tragically realized except for the odd (sometimes very) email I receive when the in-laws need to vent. Yet, I have stopped attempting to mediate in favor of a continued contemplation of "the wisdom to know the difference," which necessarily includes keeping anticipation to a minimum.
Of course, the longer I sit here, the more I remember that I have neglected things in past posts. There's a new essay. Actually, there have been two, the previous one more my usual course, you'd agree if you were to bother.
And I wouldn't blame you if you don't.
Otherwise, not much happening here.
Oh, we have a new screen/storm door and changed out the hardware on a couple interior doors. Big clumps of cut grass lay about the yard as the stuff is growing too fast to bag, or rather is growing while too wet to mow.
Speaking of mowing, you might remember our next door neighbors, the ones who keep their lawn trimmed to two inches at all times and all costs. Well, other neighbors, friends, with a better view to that mission were able to satisfy my curiosity about a good two-thirds of the usually manicured place going without.
Seems the wife of that duo is laid up, or bound to a wheelchair and has been for a couple months now. Not that our friends know exactly when she became non-ambulatory, just that they hadn't seen her through their kitchen window for a good while and then spotted her being loaded into a family vehicle.
The cause? Being neighbors and all, you might think a pie delivered to the front door would get answers but no such effort has been made as speaking terms were -inated some time ago. Yet, in that our area is small town, folks know folks who know folks, and rather well at that. Nothing. Not even privy kin.
A parallel exists here at the homestead as well, estrangement remarkably and tragically realized except for the odd (sometimes very) email I receive when the in-laws need to vent. Yet, I have stopped attempting to mediate in favor of a continued contemplation of "the wisdom to know the difference," which necessarily includes keeping anticipation to a minimum.
Of course, the longer I sit here, the more I remember that I have neglected things in past posts. There's a new essay. Actually, there have been two, the previous one more my usual course, you'd agree if you were to bother.
And I wouldn't blame you if you don't.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Readying myself
I played at a home game Friday night. I figured I cold use a little practice seeing how I'll be splashing around at Foxwoods in a couple of weeks. So, I popped a beta blocker, grabbed a sandwich and a cup of coffee and headed over.
I've played with this group for the last five years or so and I've been writing about these games for that long. Yet, there have been extended periods when I don't play with them, particularly when the health issues arise, and during those times of hiatus, things change within the group.
The banter is the same: the jokes about marriage, the latent homosexual taunts between two of the players, another whose conversation centers around his acquisitions of material goods, and the general hospitable countenance of the host couple. There's always a player or two who play any two cards when they can limp, and a couple more who see a 5xBB opening bet as a chance to stack that bettor.
I came with the intention of playing NLHE, for in all likelihood that would be the type of table I would find myself at soon enough in a casino. And at first, that is what each person called out when it came time to deal. But soon enough, games like Hold 'em Gone Wild, Tahoe, Pineapple (Crazy and Straight) and both Omahas began to get called. If you're not familiar with some of these games, there is not great loss and you will have to trust my desire to not waste typing time in explaining them.
Most of the odd games are called, I believe, so that all may readily limp in or, should someone be foolish enough to raise, call with a greater chance to hit the flop because of the number of cards in one's hand. (Yes, I am just as guilty as the others when it comes time to throw in a buck.) But if memory serves, it may have been yours truly who first introduced the group to Omaha.
Back then, it was a strategic choice, for I knew that none except me had played the game. Predictably, I won some nice pots from those believing second nuts were surely good enough hands, and lost a few as well when a set of Aces or some such hand failed to improve. But now, things were a bit different. Those games have taken hold in the bi-weekly game and players fairly well understand some of the subtleties. I no longer have the advantage, or at least as much of one as I had before.
This was the takeaway I had from the game. That and a bit of a profit, mostly coming from the ATC guy in Omaha, and another when a pair of Jacks in the hole couldn't fold to my boat. And both came from my carefully sized bets on all streets.
As I write the above I am reminded that in the past when writing about these games I would go into some detail, perhaps more enamored with my recently learned poker skills than the table's talent merited, mine included. I am also lead to remember when I turned the corner from hoping to continue to improve those skills with the desire of making a fair amount of cash from the endeavor to recognizing the merits of a level of competence that allowed me to take some pleasure in remaining a purely recreational player.
Even so, my desire to play daily or even weekly continues to wane. And coincidentally or not, so do my health issues (although the last few days would not be a good indicator), for poker can be stressful (the constant adrenalin surges I experience), as can sacrificing sleep for a few more orbits. I thought to play a bit more online over the course of the next two weeks but have thought better of it.
Good news for the folks at Foxwoods, I suppose. And perhaps welcome insight for Lightening 36, as I am now planning to hit Vegas for a couple days while he is there. Fine. Good times will then be had by all.
I've played with this group for the last five years or so and I've been writing about these games for that long. Yet, there have been extended periods when I don't play with them, particularly when the health issues arise, and during those times of hiatus, things change within the group.
The banter is the same: the jokes about marriage, the latent homosexual taunts between two of the players, another whose conversation centers around his acquisitions of material goods, and the general hospitable countenance of the host couple. There's always a player or two who play any two cards when they can limp, and a couple more who see a 5xBB opening bet as a chance to stack that bettor.
I came with the intention of playing NLHE, for in all likelihood that would be the type of table I would find myself at soon enough in a casino. And at first, that is what each person called out when it came time to deal. But soon enough, games like Hold 'em Gone Wild, Tahoe, Pineapple (Crazy and Straight) and both Omahas began to get called. If you're not familiar with some of these games, there is not great loss and you will have to trust my desire to not waste typing time in explaining them.
Most of the odd games are called, I believe, so that all may readily limp in or, should someone be foolish enough to raise, call with a greater chance to hit the flop because of the number of cards in one's hand. (Yes, I am just as guilty as the others when it comes time to throw in a buck.) But if memory serves, it may have been yours truly who first introduced the group to Omaha.
Back then, it was a strategic choice, for I knew that none except me had played the game. Predictably, I won some nice pots from those believing second nuts were surely good enough hands, and lost a few as well when a set of Aces or some such hand failed to improve. But now, things were a bit different. Those games have taken hold in the bi-weekly game and players fairly well understand some of the subtleties. I no longer have the advantage, or at least as much of one as I had before.
This was the takeaway I had from the game. That and a bit of a profit, mostly coming from the ATC guy in Omaha, and another when a pair of Jacks in the hole couldn't fold to my boat. And both came from my carefully sized bets on all streets.
As I write the above I am reminded that in the past when writing about these games I would go into some detail, perhaps more enamored with my recently learned poker skills than the table's talent merited, mine included. I am also lead to remember when I turned the corner from hoping to continue to improve those skills with the desire of making a fair amount of cash from the endeavor to recognizing the merits of a level of competence that allowed me to take some pleasure in remaining a purely recreational player.
Even so, my desire to play daily or even weekly continues to wane. And coincidentally or not, so do my health issues (although the last few days would not be a good indicator), for poker can be stressful (the constant adrenalin surges I experience), as can sacrificing sleep for a few more orbits. I thought to play a bit more online over the course of the next two weeks but have thought better of it.
Good news for the folks at Foxwoods, I suppose. And perhaps welcome insight for Lightening 36, as I am now planning to hit Vegas for a couple days while he is there. Fine. Good times will then be had by all.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Ah, what the heck?
I should be going to bed. If I start writing a post now, it will impact on my day, but a couple things happened in the last week that are worth noting.
I saw a goldfinch and the next day my first buzzard of the year. I also wanted to note that getting a bead in close quarters with a bunch of stuff lying around is not an easy task. In fact, it may require a couple days to finish the job, something of which I am not proud.
Besides that, I've been taking pictures.
I saw a goldfinch and the next day my first buzzard of the year. I also wanted to note that getting a bead in close quarters with a bunch of stuff lying around is not an easy task. In fact, it may require a couple days to finish the job, something of which I am not proud.
Besides that, I've been taking pictures.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Lacrimosa
I'm not an overly religious guy. Some might even suggest that I'm more the heathen, a judgement I can understand if I apply a continuum or some such model as it applies to criteria, laws, or, figuratively speaking, scripture.
Still, I am listening to Mozart's requiem in D Minor this morning, not knowing a single word of the text while fully feeling the music.
I was raised with the bonnets, eggs, bunnies and duties of attendance for Easter. Today as well as most other Sundays and major church holidays. This is the only one that stuck.
It's a joy out of suffering thing. Understand and try to embrace this aspect of life as a form of resurrection, and well, friend, the rest is readily manageable. This includes dealing with other people, but to point this out begins to smell of preachy speechifying and, of course, its corollary, hypocrisy, for failure in this goal comes readily.
That incident with the brother-in-law from several months back? A wedge has been placed within the family, and whether one can believe it without full details (not forthcoming), a sledge brought down that finds the wife as the splinter. All suffer save for he who placed the steel; yet all had a hand on the handle.
Oh yes, I am aware the dickhead knows his own version of hell and that each of the others have brought some portion of this on themselves, even this seeming bystander. "Seeming" as one who first chose to stay above the fray and now proceeds as a cautious mediator, surely a role that will require stitches.
But for the time being, I have moved on to Verdi's Requiem. The Foxwood trip will include a visit to a friend who has recently separated from his wife of twenty years.
Still, I am listening to Mozart's requiem in D Minor this morning, not knowing a single word of the text while fully feeling the music.
I was raised with the bonnets, eggs, bunnies and duties of attendance for Easter. Today as well as most other Sundays and major church holidays. This is the only one that stuck.
It's a joy out of suffering thing. Understand and try to embrace this aspect of life as a form of resurrection, and well, friend, the rest is readily manageable. This includes dealing with other people, but to point this out begins to smell of preachy speechifying and, of course, its corollary, hypocrisy, for failure in this goal comes readily.
That incident with the brother-in-law from several months back? A wedge has been placed within the family, and whether one can believe it without full details (not forthcoming), a sledge brought down that finds the wife as the splinter. All suffer save for he who placed the steel; yet all had a hand on the handle.
Oh yes, I am aware the dickhead knows his own version of hell and that each of the others have brought some portion of this on themselves, even this seeming bystander. "Seeming" as one who first chose to stay above the fray and now proceeds as a cautious mediator, surely a role that will require stitches.
But for the time being, I have moved on to Verdi's Requiem. The Foxwood trip will include a visit to a friend who has recently separated from his wife of twenty years.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Monday, March 25, 2013
Timing
The little purple and green swallows have returned from wherever they go during the colder months. They're right about on time, the bluebirds having set up house in the boxes that will soon become untenable for raising a family, let alone setting on the eggs, for they cannot go without eating when defending the nest requires so much energy.
The mallards are back as well, having spent a week or more somewhere else. Or, perhaps the drake made a call on the hen and they were merely having a swim before she climbed back upon her clutch. I have never been able to find her nest after the ducklings hatch, nor know where she goes with her brood after that first day's swim. You'd think she'd stick around, but no.
After all, there's plenty of food in that pond, both greenery and squigglies. I believe we had a record number of frogs this year, the racket made greater than I can remember. Even now, with the bubbles of eggs everywhere, a few males, latecomers to the party call to any of the opposite gender who might still be sitting in the folding chairs along the wall.
As for me, the air temperature and wind velocity was such I managed to get out yesterday and spray. I still have a ways to go, I'd say another 50% of the yard's beds. There was a good breeze this morning as the sun came over the ridge, and should it not die down, then at least the eight-inch tall grass will dry out for the mower.
The mallards are back as well, having spent a week or more somewhere else. Or, perhaps the drake made a call on the hen and they were merely having a swim before she climbed back upon her clutch. I have never been able to find her nest after the ducklings hatch, nor know where she goes with her brood after that first day's swim. You'd think she'd stick around, but no.
After all, there's plenty of food in that pond, both greenery and squigglies. I believe we had a record number of frogs this year, the racket made greater than I can remember. Even now, with the bubbles of eggs everywhere, a few males, latecomers to the party call to any of the opposite gender who might still be sitting in the folding chairs along the wall.
As for me, the air temperature and wind velocity was such I managed to get out yesterday and spray. I still have a ways to go, I'd say another 50% of the yard's beds. There was a good breeze this morning as the sun came over the ridge, and should it not die down, then at least the eight-inch tall grass will dry out for the mower.
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