Posted: Tuesday, December 29, 2009
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Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you
realize you're wrong.
I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.
There is great need for a sarcasm font.
How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?
Was learning cursive really necessary?
Map Quest really needs to start their directions on #5. I'm pretty
sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.
Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the
person died. And not just where to send the flowers.
I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.
Bad decisions often make the best stories.
You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at
work when you know that you just aren't going to do anything
productive for the rest of the day.
Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray? I
don't want to have to restart my movie collection...again.
I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks
me if I want to save any changes to my ten-page article that I
swear I did not make any changes to.
I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not
seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.
I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not
to answer when they call.
I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.
Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger
and suddenly realize I had no idea what the heck was going on when I
first saw it.
I would rather try to carry ten plastic grocery bags in each hand
than take two trips to bring my groceries in.
I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.
How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just
nod and smile because you still didn't hear or understand a word they
said?
Sometimes I'll look down at my watch three times and still
not know what time it is.
That's all I'm saying....
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Posted: Saturday, December 26, 2009
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Did you ever notice that life seems to follow certain patterns? Like I noticed that every year around this time, I hear Christmas music. - Tom Sims
I came to truly believe in A Superior Being when I received my first toy at Christmas. It was the answer to my prayers. I come from humble stock. Hell, our stock came from humble stock. December 25th was a break in the routine of being poor, as I recall it. Or it was a break in being refused everything in the world that I thought I absolutely could not live without. As my parents remembered it. Sure, love and security and caring discipline and a good home are nice, but somehow I figured toys were truly indicative of parental affection. I remember Christmas. Driving to Grandma's house (it was definitely hers, Grandpa was just paying for it) was ten hours winding through tiny towns on two-lane blacktop. A ride that's now barely seven hours on the Interstate. Eight miles into the trip, well, some people credit my little brother and I with being the kids who first said, "Are we almost there yet?" Detroit never made a car big enough for the two of us. Michael and I would be about ready to kill each other by the time we finally got to Punxsutawney. One trip, during a lull, I began to doze off and I thought I heard my folks discussing how they could sell us to the highest bidder. The next time they stopped for gas. Mom was willing to just give us away. But Dad told her she should be more practical. When we'd burst into the house, Grandma would always be standing in the kitchen with an apron on and Grandpa was always on the toilet. The kitchen would smell like fresh bread and warm cinnamon rolls and steaming coffee, which I never drank back then. On the counter there'd be yellow noodles, dusted with flour, pounded on a thin towel. The table would be straining to hold up under the weight of incredible dishes my Mom had learned to prepare as a girl. But never seemed to have the time to cook at home. I'd start eating like I was Idi Amin and I wouldn't stop until forced to go to bed. On Christmas morning - when I was really little - I would levitate over my crib railing and roll down the stairs to the dining room. There the biggest tree I had ever seen indoors would tower over a huge pile of brightly colored packages. Did you ever notice how the trees seemed smaller as you grew bigger? A few years later, I'd pop up in bed and Michael would be already sitting there, tapping me on the shoulder. "Let's go," he'd whisper. It was about 2:40 a.m. And we'd tiptoe out to see what we could see. Once - real early - we saw Santa Claus actually setting out the presents. He was wearing a red suit and a red cap and he had long white hair sticking out of the cap. Oh, and of course, a long white beard. Anybody else would've looked silly in that outfit. He had the same build as Grandpa. At first I thought Grandpa might have truly been Santa until Michael reminded me that he didn't have a beard. And another thing, I knew Grandpa didn't have a red suit or I would've seen it some other time. We weren't allowed to start opening presents until everybody else was up. So, we had to keep quiet until "a reasonable hour." Which we decided was about 6 a.m. Then we'd start accidentally bumping into stuff and telling each other real loud to hush. "Quiet! You'll wake everybody up!!" Sometimes we'd have to actually holler a little. Until Mom made Dad get out of bed. When we stopped being the two cutest little boys anybody had ever seen in their lives, our parents told us they weren't going to put up with our nonsense any more. And we'd have to start sleeping later on Christmas morning. I was about eight and big for my age. Michael was miffed 'cause he thought he still had a couple of good years left in him. I'll admit it - he was cute. No longer able to get by on just our good looks, we decided to use our brains. I suggested - and Michael backed me up on this - since December 25th was really Jesus Christ's birthday, maybe we should open our gifts on Christmas Eve. You know, the better to focus on the true meaning of the Christmas holiday itself. They fell for it.
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Posted: Wednesday, December 23, 2009
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As you get older, three things happen. The first is your memory goes,and I can't remember the other two. - Norman Wisdom. When I was a much younger man - 42 - my parents gave me an original copy of the New York Times for December 24, 1946, my birth date. The paper cost three cents when published. Times have changed; bought the same publication just last Friday for two dollars.
And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count, it's the life in your years. - Abraham Lincoln Much has changed. Back then, at all Horn & Hardart Automats, you could get a Christmas Day Special of selected young turkey, roasted to a golden turn by expert chefs, for 80 cents. Dinner included savory filling, giblet gravy, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes and carrots. Gives some historical perspective to today's 99-cent menu at the local drive-thru. In youth, we run into difficulties. In old age, difficulties run into us.- Beverly Sills. Northwest Orient Airlines had seats available on their four-engine, 44-passenger luxury service from New York City to Portland, Oregon, for just $118.30 plus tax. I am guessing the stewardesses were young and pretty and you would get a halfway decent meal at no additional charge. Oh, and your bags rode for free. The bad news was the flight took 15 hours and 25 minutes. You can live to be a hundred, if you give up all the things that make you want to live to be a hundred. - Woody Allen. Prices were low, but so were salaries. In 1946, 47% of American families had an annual income of less than $2,000. In the classifieds, under Help Wanted-Female, bookkeepers were being offered $35-$45 weekly. Another ad, this one in Help Wanted - Male, asked for "BKKPR, alert, commanding personality, managerial timber; $50 start." An alert male was probably harder to find.
I didn't get old on purpose, it just happened. If you're lucky, it could happen to you. - Andy Rooney. The president of the New York Stock Exchange had just received a raise to $40,000 annually. RADIO - that was the name of the company - led the most active trading list at 19,300 shares. Total volume was 1,170,000. (Today, every day, NYSE trading volume can exceed three billion.) In 1946, on Christmas Eve, radio - the communications medium - was the most popular form of commercial entertainment. That and pro whittling. A half page of the N.Y. Times was devoted to a schedule of programs hosted by such superstars as Rudy Valee, Arthur Godfrey, Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Red Skelton and Amos & Andy. Not exactly The Morning Zoo. How old would you be if you didn't know how old you was? - Satchel Paige. A basketball game between Duquesne and Tennessee was called off when the Volunteers refused to take the floor unless assured Charles Cooper, the Negro freshman star, would not play for the Dukes. More than 2,600 fans were already in the gymnasium when the cancellation was announced.
If I'd known I was going to live this long, I'd have taken better care of myself. - Eubie Blake. And Mickey Mantle. An advertisement for the Capitol movie theater promoted Claudette Colbert and Walter Pidgeon in MGM's "The Secret Heart." That sentimental gentleman Tommy Dorsey, complete with his trombone and an augmented orchestra of 40 - plus comedian Jack Carter - was appearing in person. The ad reads... "Parents! Is your daughter a problem child? Must her romantic ideals agree with yours or may she follow her own heart? Girls! Are your parents' ideas of love and life old-fashioned?" There was no respect for youth when I was young, and now that I am old, there is no respect for age. I missed it coming and going. - J. B. Priestly. I guess change is relative. I have long been amazed by one woman's experience. When my grandmother was three years old, the Wright brothers flew the first airplane 120 feet. Just 66 years later, Grandma watched as Neil Armstrong landed on the moon. My next few years could be interesting.
Old age is an excellent time for outrage. My goal is to say or do at least one outrageous thing every week. - Louis Kronenberger. I'll be honest with you. When I three-bet out of position with two napkins and some mouthy punk folds like a beach chair, gosh, parts of me feel practically unused. I play poker because it keeps me young.
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Posted: Monday, December 21, 2009
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Become your own hero. And act accordingly.Always try to help a friend in need. And love your friends, no matter who they are. Believe in yourself. Be brave...but it's ok to be afraid sometimes. Just keep going. Always be aware of what's around you. Study hard. And often. Laugh often. And hard. Trust your instincts. Don't be overly concerned with your weight, it's just a number. Always try to see the glass half full. Meet new people, even if they seem different to you. Remain calm, even when it seems hopeless. Take lots of naps. Rest is good for you. Be weird whenever you have the chance. Don't waste food. Or time. RELAX. Take an occasional risk. Try to have a little fun each day. ...it's important. Share. Invest in yourself. Say 'I love you' often. Express yourself creatively. Be conscious of your appearance. Always be up for surprises. Love someone with all of your heart. Watch your step. Remember - it will get better. Exercise to keep fit. Live up to your name. Seize the Moment. Indulge in the things you truly love. Cherish every day.
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Posted: Thursday, December 17, 2009
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An excerpt from
The Strangest Secret
by Earl NightingaleGeorge Bernard Shaw said, "People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are. I don't believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and if they can't find them, they make them."
Well, it's pretty apparent, isn't it? And every person who discovered this believed (for a while) that he was the first one to work it out. We become what we think about.
Conversely, the person who has no goal, who doesn't know where he's going, and whose thoughts must therefore be thoughts of confusion, anxiety and worry - his life becomes one of frustration, fear, anxiety and worry. And if he thinks about nothing... he becomes nothing. How does it work? Why do we become what we think about? Well, I'll tell you how it works, as far as we know. To do this, I want to tell you about a situation that parallels the human mind.
Suppose a farmer has some land, and it's good, fertile land. The land gives the farmer a choice; he may plant in that land whatever he chooses. The land doesn't care. It's up to the farmer to make the decision. We're comparing the human mind with the land because the mind, like the land, doesn't care what you plant in it. It will return what you plant, but it doesn't care what you plant.
Now, let's say that the farmer has two seeds in his hand- one is a seed of corn, the other is nightshade, a deadly poison. He digs two little holes in the earth and he plants both seeds-one corn, the other nightshade. He covers up the holes, waters and takes care of the land...and what will happen? Invariably, the land will return what was planted. As it's written in the Bible, "As ye sow, so shall ye reap."
Remember the land doesn't care. It will return poison in just as wonderful abundance as it will corn. So up come the two plants - one corn, one poison.
The human mind is far more fertile, far more incredible and mysterious than the land, but it works the same way. It doesn't care what we plant...success...or failure. A concrete, worthwhile goal...or confusion, misunderstanding, fear, anxiety and so on. But what we plant must return to us.
You see, the human mind is the last great unexplored continent on earth. It contains riches beyond our wildest dreams. It will return anything we want to plant.
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Posted: Monday, December 14, 2009
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A mouse looked through the crack in the wall
to see the farmer and his wife open a package. "What food might this contain?" The mouse wondered.
He was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap.
Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed this warning :"There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" 
The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it." The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"
 The pig sympathized, but said, "I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray.. Be assured you are in my prayers."
The mouse turned to the cow and said, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"
 The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose."
So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap . . . Alone.. . .
That very night a sound was heard throughout the house -- the soundOf a mousetrap catching its prey.
The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it. It was a venomous snake whose tail was caught in the trap.
The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital.  When she returned home she still had a fever.Everyone knows you treat a feverwith fresh chicken soup. So the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient: 
But his wife's sickness continued. Friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.
 But, alas, the farmer's wife did not get well... She died.
 So many people came for her funeral that the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them for the funeral luncheon.
And the mouse looked upon it allfrom his crack in the wall with great sadness.
So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and you think it doesn't concern you, remember ---
 When one of us is threatened, we are all at risk. We are all involved in this journey called life.We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage one another.
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Posted: Thursday, December 10, 2009
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My wife made me clean up my office. The papers were piled high. Had to read each scrap just to make sure I wasn't throwing out something important. You tell me.... DON'T TREAT THE GAME LIKE A GAME. If you look harder, you'll see better. To read other people's minds, start by reading your own. "The question is not what you look at, but what you see." - Thoreau. "We miss more by not seeing than by not knowing." - William Osler. In PLO, sometimes it may be correct to fold the nut straight on the flop. The big pots in PLO tend to center around straight draws. "Hold'em is a situational game. The key skill is survival. If you hang around long enough, you give good things a chance to find you." - Avery Cardoza
So many of us, we lead lives inferior to ourselves. Why do we do that? Women want me: men want to be me. Work like you can control the outcome of events. "You can make money with a tight, conservative style, but you are not going to maximize your earnings." - rizen. When you get the goods, bet the goods. They are going to be consistent in the mistakes they make. If you can beat the 10-cent game, you can beat the 25-cent game. Never bluff at microlimits. If the pot is big, don't slowplay. Take your draws for free at microlevels. Competition at pot limit hold'em may be weaker.
"KQ is just a death hand in no-limit. It's almost unplayable. I would never call a raise with KQ. It's the single biggest trouble hand." - Phil Gordon At micro-levels, play tight pre-flop. In the small blind, play hands you can re-raise with. In the big blind, don't call raises. Downgrade suited connectors; upgrade small pairs. Do not play tiny sets strongly. Chase a set with middle pairs, i.e., 55+. "If you don't crash, you probably aren't trying hard enough." - Tour de France. Lowlimit cash on Full Tilt is no place to earn a living. Cake is probably loosest cash game site at moment. Re game selection, look for biggest pots. Look for more than 65 hands per hour. Find the weak players. Much harder than it used to be.
How come we never see Eskimo Clark, James Sousa or Thunder Keller on TV, except for ESPN Classic? "Hard work, laser focus and commitment is what makes people successful in life." - JohnnyBax. Re PLO. Notes & reads more important than NLH. Not really a bluffing game; more a semi-bluffing game. Don't play trash out of position. Rarely more than a 2-1 dog. "When the gun sounds, the athlete must be an unthinking animal." - George Sheehan. Thinking is at least as much play as it is work. 6-max is a game of counter-punching against open raisers. You want to be known as somebody who is raising on the button, especially with an Ace. Take your time, especially calling bets on the river. sheets is 4-betting 77, 'cause ppl are getting too aggressive these days with 44, 55 & 66.
"Put yourself in situations where favorable consequences are much larger than unfavorable consequences." - N.N. Taleb. Big winning players efficiently steal the dead money. Do not always fear big hands. I'll raise from anywhere with a pocket pair. "Pick your spots." - Jesus Ferguson. With 11 big blinds and a pair, a shove is mandatory. Don't limp in small blind with weak hands. Fold AQ in middle position vs. an Under The Gun raise. Punish the bubble.
Dream table: Patrik Antonius. Gus Hansen. Daniel Negraneau. John Gale. Doyle Brunson. Ted Forrest. Phil Ivey. Gabe Kaplan. Greg Raymer. And the spirit of Chip Reese. "Always play your hand from pre-flop on to gain information." - Chad Batista. Stay out of the way of small stacks. In cash games, position is king. If you play Ace-rag consistently, you'll go broke. If you get good at 1$/2$ cash games, you can make $20 an hour per table. In cash games, you want aggressive players on the right and passive players on your left. A lot of players can't call with suited connectors OOP. A lot more unconventional plays in cash games vis a vis MTTs. In an SNG your calling requirements are tighter than in an MTT. As long as you're not shortstacked, there's no point to speculate early. Good players usually flat call with pocket pairs. "To put a player on a hand, I usually ask myself, what kind of hands would I have to make that play from that position?" - Lee Childs.
Not every opponent is a bad player. Some people are bad, some people are just gambling. Don't risk all your chips. Watch your kickers, especially when calling big. When you sit down at a table, buy in for 30xBigBlind. If you lose your stake, call it a session. RULES OF ENGAGEMENT. Micro-stakes cash games. Position is king. Start off tight. Don't call big bets. Emphasize pairs over suited connectors. Reduce the number of limpers pre-flop. A better kicker helps. "If your opponents see that you are confident, they are going to be less willing to make moves on you, and less willing to steal your blinds." - Gavin Smith.
The hungry wolf hunts best. What you give, you keep; what you keep, you lose. Age & aging are not the same thing. Set the bar high. Sometimes it's easier to accomplish the impossible than the merely improbable.... Those who believe they can and those who believe they can't are both right. "Err on the side of aggression." - sheets. Rarely do you want to make a bet that is less than half of the pot. "The players who are willing to go all-in on a draw are the players who will win the tournament. They are playing to win. Tight players don't have a chance." - John Phan.
In razz, you are much farther behind when you are behind and much farther ahead when you are ahead than in hold'em. You are way behind when you start behind. Find one guy who is bad at the razz table, you can make money. Small mistakes in razz really add up. When you focus on your goals, you regain a sense of control over your life, your self-esteem increases, and you sense what happens around you doesn't have to affect what is within you. In low level SNGs, consider playing a few more hands early when the poorer players are still in with chips.
There is no difference between money you don't lose and money you win. The more you check, the more you lose when you win. "If you don't like change, you are going to like irrelevence even less." - Gen. Eric Shinseki. The long run is now. If you're not steadily getting better, you are steadily getting worse. Don't beat your head against a wall that has a door in it. With one thought, drive away ten thousand thoughts.- Chinese proverb. Frustration with the staus quo is inevitably a catalyst for change. Too many people stand by ready to carry the stool when the piano needs to be moved.
"Bladder control is an issue....and I have mastered it." - Phil Hellmuth.
It's his ego which is running amuck.
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Posted: Sunday, December 6, 2009
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Nobody could stop Charles Moore. Couldn't begin to slow him down. Nobody. He was the toughest man I ever saw. My Grandpa Charlie.The middle finger on his left hand was permanently bent at a ninety-degree angle. 'Never had time to get it fixed,' was all he said, when I asked him about it. His head was sure on straight.
Not to sound cocky or anything, but I thought nobody could stop me. Nobody could hurt me. I'd never been seriously injured in my life. And when I walked out on the field, I knew I was going to win. Or die trying.
I remember I got a letter from some rival alum telling me if I went to a big school like Ectotopia State, I'd get lost in the depth chart. Just be another number. I called the assistant coach at Ecotopia who'd been recruiting me and told him about the letter. He said, "Tell you what. If you are scared to compete, we don't want you." I thought about that for about a minute and said, "You're right." I signed with them the next day.
Numbers are important. I wore number 88 since pee wee league, all the way through high school. 88 had been very good to me. Never been injured. Made some plays. A lot of plays actually. My mom's got the clippings. I wanted to wear the same number in college, but 88 was given to another member of the freshman class. This guy played the same position I did and he was rated higher than me. He came from the big city where he'd gotten a lot of ink. Coming in, he was simply The Man. He had everything I wanted. Including 88 and I guess I was jealous. Coach gave me jersey number 10, which I learned was approximately my position on the depth chart that first summer camp. I looked even skinnier in 10. Slower, too. I moped around all night and into the next day. Until the next practice. Couldn't get 88 out of my mind. Stayed there like a toothache. All I could think of every time I put on my uniform... I am better than that guy wearing my number. I knew it was stupid, I guess, but I was steamed.
I got the number 88 from my Grandpa Charlie Moore, who - every Sunday - drove a glistening turquoise and white Oldsmobile Eighty-Eight to church. Where we prayed faithfully. In the fall for the Steelers, in the summer for the Pirates.
Grandpa was a coal miner. He had his own mine a few miles outside of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. The Groundhog Capitol of The World. The mine was nothing more than a hole in the side of a mountain, a small mountain at that. Railroad tracks disappeared into darkness. Grandpa would harness a blind-folded donkey - named "Donkey" - to a large cart, like an old dumpster on wheels. A few picks and shovels. I remember dynamite. He wore a spotlight on his old, dented helmet.
He'd fade away into the shaft, like a pencil sketch slowly erased. And when he came back out, he'd be covered in soot, solid smudge from battered helmet to steel-toed shoes. Eyes blinking in the sudden sunlight. He'd lead the old donkey over to a chute and drop a load of coal into the back of his old dumptruck. Grab a bite to eat, a swallow of water and head back inside. Grandpa and Donkey working together until the big truck was full.
The doors of the red truck showed some faded gold lettering which read Moore Fuel & Transportation Company. When the truck's bed was brimming, Grandpa would brush off as much grime as he could and drive into town.
He had a route, regular accounts. He'd go from house to house with his truck and deliver a load of coal down a chute into somebody's basement. Enough to hold them for another month. The man worked hard.
Grandpa was proud of his Oldsmobile and I was proud of Grandpa.
88. Not getting that number was the best thing that ever could've happened to me. Turned my life around. I was driven to show everybody I was the only guy who should be wearing 88. Wanted to prove it. I believe in mind power. If you think you are going to fail, you are going to fail. I am not going to fail. I am invincible. That's what I tell myself. Over and over again.
You can hear the ligaments and tendons pop when they snap in your knee. Sounds like somebody's throwing little firecrackers at you. Pop! Pop!! There is a moment of clarity between the injury and the arrival of the pain. Call it a snapshot. You understand everything, but do not know what any of it means. That frozen moment is a brief, incandescent transition between your life as you used to know it, and your life as it has become. You are not the same. You scream to forget the pain, which arrives entirely new, too. You go into shock, so you won't have to deal with reality just yet. You're in a daze, occasionally awakened by a sudden shot of pain. Which you don't so much feel, as hear with your nerves. You're not hurt, you're not hurt, you're not hurt. I keep repeating to myself. Screaming, I think. Maybe not.
I am not number 88 anymore. Numbers have stopped meaning anything to me. Grandpa Charlie is dead. A cave-in. Guess he's done caring about the Oldsmobile. Was never about the damn number anyway. It was all about respect.
Wish they'd just give me a number, any damn number. And put me back in the game.
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