Had a couple of sessions of successful live poker last week. Booked a nice G-bar+ profit at the GucciRick game on Monday, then traveled North to Asheville to play in a Lee Jones home game this past Saturday.
There's a quiet conglomeration of home games going on. There is a smaller stakes G-Vegas game every now and then hosted by yours truly, a Charlotte game at casa de Falstaff, and the aforementioned game in Asheville. All three groups are in moderate driving distance of each other and each group has a few members willing to make the drive.
It's turned into a perfect blend of socializing and poker. I'm not sure there's anything else I enjoy more. Mix in some winning play and I'll suffer life's burdens a bit easier during the week at work.
The Mrs. continues her walking ways. She gets in about 7 or 8 miles in a day, which although sounds like it's a lot, still isn't even 1/3rd the total she'll walk on her marathon. Again, much thanks and appreciation go out to all who've donated to her charity.
The kids are growing up faster and faster. My 11-year old daughter wants to "go out" with this cute boy in school. Uh. No. My 9-year old son, when asked about a girl whose birthday party he was attending, responded, "Dad, I don't like-like her." When did he start to know the difference?
This coming weekend, I will be displaying my running aptitude at a G-Rob work-based event called the "M & M Bowl" Good thing the field is not on an incline nor paved. Still, I wouldn't guarantee that I won't get hurt.
This evening before poker, I hope to meet Otis at the sushi joint where the red-headed waitress shows off her personally trained self in tight black clothing. Not that either of us has noticed.
And finally, in the interest of Metal Monday, here's a band called Luna Mortis. Combine some Euro-speed, clean/guttural vocal alternation, female-fronted thrash and you have the song "Ash." Enjoy.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Turning Things Around
More poker/life ramblings....
The beauty of poker lies in its instant feedback. You play a hand well, don't get sucked out on, and rake in a big pot. The time between the good play and the stacking of chips was literally only seconds apart. Your brain is stimulated with a dopamine release and you want more of it.
On the negative side, when you're tilty, you shove all-in on a bad bluff or weak draw and lose. Still, the feedback is near instantaneous. Your chips are gone and so is your motivation to play well.
In the latter circumstance, sometimes all it takes is a good night's sleep to turn it around. You can recover. Your bankroll has withstood such hits before and with a new day and a new poker session come new opportunities to play well once again.
Life, though, is a bit different.
You screw up, whether you truly believe you did or not, the results are the same. Some form of negative feedback. Unfortunately, you can't just wake up the next day and fix it with a winning session. Life moves much slower than a poker game. Impressions on people last longer than a hand of poker.
It takes more discipline to turn things around in real life. Each day you have to make sure your mindset and your actions are tuned in to your intent. Making a change. Can you teach an old dog new tricks? Sure. But it takes a while. Over enough time, I'd say that even a leopard can change his spots. If he really wanted to.
Over time, you can build on a foundation of change. It takes work. It takes constant reminders. It takes the acknowledgment that you're not perfect, but you're working to bet better. And if you are consistent, over time, even people will notice. People who've once noticed you were one way will notice now that you're acting in a different way.
The change I've tried to put myself through is working. Slowly. But surely. The right people are noticing and that's a good thing. I have momentary slips. But luckily I catch myself. I will continue along this path I've set for myself, mainly because I have to. For the good of my family, I have to.
Life's long session keeps dealing me hands and I'm playing on a short stack with a limited roll. There is no place for tilt. If the river's kind to me, I'll be able to keep playing.
The beauty of poker lies in its instant feedback. You play a hand well, don't get sucked out on, and rake in a big pot. The time between the good play and the stacking of chips was literally only seconds apart. Your brain is stimulated with a dopamine release and you want more of it.
On the negative side, when you're tilty, you shove all-in on a bad bluff or weak draw and lose. Still, the feedback is near instantaneous. Your chips are gone and so is your motivation to play well.
In the latter circumstance, sometimes all it takes is a good night's sleep to turn it around. You can recover. Your bankroll has withstood such hits before and with a new day and a new poker session come new opportunities to play well once again.
Life, though, is a bit different.
You screw up, whether you truly believe you did or not, the results are the same. Some form of negative feedback. Unfortunately, you can't just wake up the next day and fix it with a winning session. Life moves much slower than a poker game. Impressions on people last longer than a hand of poker.
It takes more discipline to turn things around in real life. Each day you have to make sure your mindset and your actions are tuned in to your intent. Making a change. Can you teach an old dog new tricks? Sure. But it takes a while. Over enough time, I'd say that even a leopard can change his spots. If he really wanted to.
Over time, you can build on a foundation of change. It takes work. It takes constant reminders. It takes the acknowledgment that you're not perfect, but you're working to bet better. And if you are consistent, over time, even people will notice. People who've once noticed you were one way will notice now that you're acting in a different way.
The change I've tried to put myself through is working. Slowly. But surely. The right people are noticing and that's a good thing. I have momentary slips. But luckily I catch myself. I will continue along this path I've set for myself, mainly because I have to. For the good of my family, I have to.
Life's long session keeps dealing me hands and I'm playing on a short stack with a limited roll. There is no place for tilt. If the river's kind to me, I'll be able to keep playing.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Who Are Also Disbanded
In light of Al's video post of classic thrash, here's some updated material from bands, who, as they say, "are also disbanded...."
Two From Coroner:
Two From Carcass:
And a Lick Loll:
Two From Coroner:
Two From Carcass:
And a Lick Loll:
Every Day Sends Future To Past
Every breath leaves one less to my last.
I'd attribute that quote, but those who've heard it know where it's from and those who haven't could not care less. Still, it's appropriate for me on this anniversary of my birth.
First off, I want to thank all the folks who've sent me birthday wishes via text message, email, Facebook messages and even kickass blog posts.
Secondly, I think I'm going to have to acknowledge a change in these here parts of the web. I hardly post anymore because, quite frankly, it's difficult to both come up with a poker-themed post and find the time to write something witty and insightful. So without sounding too much like a cop out, I'll be posting more about my mundane life and hopefully get some poker content in here and there. Hell, if UpForPoker can re-work their motif, well then I can certainly be a weak copy cat.
Also, occasionally I'll send out a Twitter, mainly when I've been drinking and feeling like I'm mildly entertaining. Be forewarned, my comedy is meta-comedy, only funny weeks, even months later. (Cue "guy bets half a sandwich" joke)
Back to me turning 41....
There are a couple of reasons I know I'm aging. Take last night for example. I was out doing what I do on Mondays, eating, drinking, whatever, then playing some cards. A friend was in town from up North, my old haunting grounds. This buddy of mine was the original participant with me in the very first Procedure(tm). I joke, but I seriously need to trademark that, just in case the term makes it into Pauly's book.
Anyway, I'm sitting at GucciRick's 10-handed poker table and need to relieve myself. For some reason I felt like drinking the Bud Lights (a.k.a. "The Bane of My Bowels") left in the refrigerator. Apparently, while I was away, I was dealt a hand but didn't get back in time to play it. I knew it was a good hand since both Rick and TheMark gave me shit about taking too long in the restroom.
I guess I folded pocket Jacks.
And yes, the flop was J-hi, rainbow.
And yes, Frank the Tank, flopped a set of 2's and doubled up against pocket 9's (don't ask).
And yes, had my bladder been able to control itself for just a wee bit (See? Meta-humor) longer, I'd have flopped set over set and won a $750 pot.
Here's why I'm old.
I didn't even get mad, or even mildly upset. Sure I rooted for Frank to turn or river quads, but still, it didn't tilt me in the least. I played marginally well after that until I got tired and gambled my profits away. I broke just about even, went home and slept.
When I woke up, I was another year older.
Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
(More meta-humor there, you know 'cause, like, I don't have hair. And that's a phrase used on shampoo bottles. Which I wouldn't need. Well, not that much. I like to avoid scalp problems by shampooing anyway. So maybe it's not meta-humor. But it could be. It depends on the delivery. Pretend right now that I nailed the delivery and this will be funny.)
I'd attribute that quote, but those who've heard it know where it's from and those who haven't could not care less. Still, it's appropriate for me on this anniversary of my birth.
First off, I want to thank all the folks who've sent me birthday wishes via text message, email, Facebook messages and even kickass blog posts.
Secondly, I think I'm going to have to acknowledge a change in these here parts of the web. I hardly post anymore because, quite frankly, it's difficult to both come up with a poker-themed post and find the time to write something witty and insightful. So without sounding too much like a cop out, I'll be posting more about my mundane life and hopefully get some poker content in here and there. Hell, if UpForPoker can re-work their motif, well then I can certainly be a weak copy cat.
Also, occasionally I'll send out a Twitter, mainly when I've been drinking and feeling like I'm mildly entertaining. Be forewarned, my comedy is meta-comedy, only funny weeks, even months later. (Cue "guy bets half a sandwich" joke)
Back to me turning 41....
There are a couple of reasons I know I'm aging. Take last night for example. I was out doing what I do on Mondays, eating, drinking, whatever, then playing some cards. A friend was in town from up North, my old haunting grounds. This buddy of mine was the original participant with me in the very first Procedure(tm). I joke, but I seriously need to trademark that, just in case the term makes it into Pauly's book.
Anyway, I'm sitting at GucciRick's 10-handed poker table and need to relieve myself. For some reason I felt like drinking the Bud Lights (a.k.a. "The Bane of My Bowels") left in the refrigerator. Apparently, while I was away, I was dealt a hand but didn't get back in time to play it. I knew it was a good hand since both Rick and TheMark gave me shit about taking too long in the restroom.
I guess I folded pocket Jacks.
And yes, the flop was J-hi, rainbow.
And yes, Frank the Tank, flopped a set of 2's and doubled up against pocket 9's (don't ask).
And yes, had my bladder been able to control itself for just a wee bit (See? Meta-humor) longer, I'd have flopped set over set and won a $750 pot.
Here's why I'm old.
I didn't even get mad, or even mildly upset. Sure I rooted for Frank to turn or river quads, but still, it didn't tilt me in the least. I played marginally well after that until I got tired and gambled my profits away. I broke just about even, went home and slept.
When I woke up, I was another year older.
Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
(More meta-humor there, you know 'cause, like, I don't have hair. And that's a phrase used on shampoo bottles. Which I wouldn't need. Well, not that much. I like to avoid scalp problems by shampooing anyway. So maybe it's not meta-humor. But it could be. It depends on the delivery. Pretend right now that I nailed the delivery and this will be funny.)
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Proposition Wager
If you've attended one of my home games, you are aware of one of its growing traditions: The Classic Rock Chanel Prop Bet
The rules are quite simple and the game is so unobtrusive that running this game during a poker night can only add to the fun.
In a nutshell, while we listen to the digital cable classic rock channel, each player that wants to play picks a classic rock song and artist. Whoever's artist plays first wins the prop bet from the other players. If you get the song correct too (a rarity, but it does happen), you get paid the bonus bet. In many cases, we'll either play $2/$5 or $1/$3 for the artist/song.
The rules also stipulate that you can only change your pick once someone wins. We generally keep a white board tally of people's choices. Last weekend in Asheville, at Lee Jones' homegame, I got crushed. I was playing my choices and as Otis' surrogate and neither of us hit all night. So for each prop bet, I was paying double. The only thing I managed to win was a side bet with Lee that either The James Gang or Joe Walsh would play before The Eagles. I should've got some odds, but I was so confident I'd win, I took a 1:1 payoff.
Last night, nearing the end of a Gucci Rick homegame, Otis opened the door for some prop betting, something we don't normally do there. Pretty much the same game, but instead of an artist/song structure, it was artist only. But the stakes were $20. Otis, Broc, and TheMark each opted in with Meatloaf, Credence, and Led Zeppelin respectively. At nearly the last minute, I picked Steve Miller Band since that's almost a gimme.
Very next song: The Joker. Ship it. $60 win.
TheMark, disillusioned with the game, opted to discontinue playing. I told him that he should take a risk and pick Edgar Winter. Next song, Free Ride. TheMark just hung his head and played with his iPhone. Well, the obvious choice for me there, after Broc and Otis held strong with their original picks, was to leverage the Led Zeppelin pick from TheMark.
A few songs later - Dazed and Confused. Ship it. $40 more.
Broc then bailed and now it was only me and Otis. Well, you know what happened. Otis switched to Boston, and that opened the door for me to make the tilt pick of Meatloaf myself.
Unfortunately, the game broke at about 2:15 and we went home. I left before Otis, but apparently not before Meatloaf hit the TV. A few more hands and I'd have pulled off the trifecta.
Word on the street is that Falstaff is running hot at this game too. There's a showdown coming, I can feel it.
The rules are quite simple and the game is so unobtrusive that running this game during a poker night can only add to the fun.
In a nutshell, while we listen to the digital cable classic rock channel, each player that wants to play picks a classic rock song and artist. Whoever's artist plays first wins the prop bet from the other players. If you get the song correct too (a rarity, but it does happen), you get paid the bonus bet. In many cases, we'll either play $2/$5 or $1/$3 for the artist/song.
The rules also stipulate that you can only change your pick once someone wins. We generally keep a white board tally of people's choices. Last weekend in Asheville, at Lee Jones' homegame, I got crushed. I was playing my choices and as Otis' surrogate and neither of us hit all night. So for each prop bet, I was paying double. The only thing I managed to win was a side bet with Lee that either The James Gang or Joe Walsh would play before The Eagles. I should've got some odds, but I was so confident I'd win, I took a 1:1 payoff.
Last night, nearing the end of a Gucci Rick homegame, Otis opened the door for some prop betting, something we don't normally do there. Pretty much the same game, but instead of an artist/song structure, it was artist only. But the stakes were $20. Otis, Broc, and TheMark each opted in with Meatloaf, Credence, and Led Zeppelin respectively. At nearly the last minute, I picked Steve Miller Band since that's almost a gimme.
Very next song: The Joker. Ship it. $60 win.
TheMark, disillusioned with the game, opted to discontinue playing. I told him that he should take a risk and pick Edgar Winter. Next song, Free Ride. TheMark just hung his head and played with his iPhone. Well, the obvious choice for me there, after Broc and Otis held strong with their original picks, was to leverage the Led Zeppelin pick from TheMark.
A few songs later - Dazed and Confused. Ship it. $40 more.
Broc then bailed and now it was only me and Otis. Well, you know what happened. Otis switched to Boston, and that opened the door for me to make the tilt pick of Meatloaf myself.
Unfortunately, the game broke at about 2:15 and we went home. I left before Otis, but apparently not before Meatloaf hit the TV. A few more hands and I'd have pulled off the trifecta.
Word on the street is that Falstaff is running hot at this game too. There's a showdown coming, I can feel it.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Hello, It's Me
Well then.
I've not posted in quite some time. Being too lazy to look at my archives, this may be the longest post drought of my blogging "career." Things have changed for me in the past few weeks. We'll get into that in a moment.
First off, Mastadon weekend was everything it should have been. You may have seen me parading around in videos or pics; it was obvious I had a good time. To everyone that managed to be a part of it, no matter how small, thanks for making it as fun as it was. I'd do it again in a split second.
Not soon after that weekend, in fact the very next week, I received some less than flattering feedback concerning my performance at my job. It was rather harsh. The worst in about 15 years since I was but a young buck out of school. Was it fair? Well, that's not for me to say. Other co-workers who know the reality of it say it wasn't, but that is immaterial after the fact. Life isn't fair, I think we all know that.
If anything good was going to come of it, then it would have to be me to make it that way. I really took an honest look at myself and realized a very important fact about myself. I get frustrated at the drop of a hat and wear my frustration on my sleeve. It's as if I expect those around me to register my frustration and change their ways. That's downright stupid. In fact, it's a bit arrogant. And that's not the adjective I want associated with me, for when I see it in others, it's disgraceful.
There's no doubt I was frustrated at work. Several decisions made by others around me seemed obviously incorrect to me and my reaction was far from ideal. It's just not a good idea to show your "support" by reacting in a negative way. All that was brought home to me during my review, the severity of which really took me by surprise. It made me think real hard about myself and I came to a few conclusions that even have effected my home life.
Let me give you a little example.
MrsBlood and I were leaving for my son's gymnastics meet, an overnight stay down in Columbia. As it so happens quite frequently, just as we're pulling out of the driveway, MrsBlood asks me to stop the car because she's forgotten the directions. I obliged and she quickly returned to the car, saying "Thanks for not getting mad at me." I told her that my getting mad at her the previous ten times didn't prevent her from forgetting this time.
And that's really what it comes down to. Getting mad, getting frustrated - it doesn't help matters at all. It's counterproductive. But unfortunately for me, it's been my gut, initial reaction to so many things at work and at home that it's made me a worse person.
So for the past three weeks, I've tried to improve. It's amazing how many times per day I catch myself about to think or say something negative about something. I have no reason on this Earth to be negative. None whatsoever. Otis blogs about being a lucky guy to have the life he has and it's the same way for me. I love my wife (and she's getting hotter by the day), I love my kids (they're perfect to me), but it's been apparent that for a while I didn't feel the same about myself.
I can tie all this into poker somehow, because the above was basically a long description of me being on an ever-increasing amount of life-tilt for no real reason. It's taking effort to look at things constructively rather than destructively, but I believe I'm getting better at it. There's no doubt my poker results are correlating well with the change I've made. My only hopes is that I can continue to improve and make it a more permanent part of my behavior.
I may be beating myself up over something small and insignificant, but I really don't think I have anything to lose by trying to be a better person as a result, even if the impetus was unjust.
And with that, I'll be back to blogging.
I've not posted in quite some time. Being too lazy to look at my archives, this may be the longest post drought of my blogging "career." Things have changed for me in the past few weeks. We'll get into that in a moment.
First off, Mastadon weekend was everything it should have been. You may have seen me parading around in videos or pics; it was obvious I had a good time. To everyone that managed to be a part of it, no matter how small, thanks for making it as fun as it was. I'd do it again in a split second.
Not soon after that weekend, in fact the very next week, I received some less than flattering feedback concerning my performance at my job. It was rather harsh. The worst in about 15 years since I was but a young buck out of school. Was it fair? Well, that's not for me to say. Other co-workers who know the reality of it say it wasn't, but that is immaterial after the fact. Life isn't fair, I think we all know that.
If anything good was going to come of it, then it would have to be me to make it that way. I really took an honest look at myself and realized a very important fact about myself. I get frustrated at the drop of a hat and wear my frustration on my sleeve. It's as if I expect those around me to register my frustration and change their ways. That's downright stupid. In fact, it's a bit arrogant. And that's not the adjective I want associated with me, for when I see it in others, it's disgraceful.
There's no doubt I was frustrated at work. Several decisions made by others around me seemed obviously incorrect to me and my reaction was far from ideal. It's just not a good idea to show your "support" by reacting in a negative way. All that was brought home to me during my review, the severity of which really took me by surprise. It made me think real hard about myself and I came to a few conclusions that even have effected my home life.
Let me give you a little example.
MrsBlood and I were leaving for my son's gymnastics meet, an overnight stay down in Columbia. As it so happens quite frequently, just as we're pulling out of the driveway, MrsBlood asks me to stop the car because she's forgotten the directions. I obliged and she quickly returned to the car, saying "Thanks for not getting mad at me." I told her that my getting mad at her the previous ten times didn't prevent her from forgetting this time.
And that's really what it comes down to. Getting mad, getting frustrated - it doesn't help matters at all. It's counterproductive. But unfortunately for me, it's been my gut, initial reaction to so many things at work and at home that it's made me a worse person.
So for the past three weeks, I've tried to improve. It's amazing how many times per day I catch myself about to think or say something negative about something. I have no reason on this Earth to be negative. None whatsoever. Otis blogs about being a lucky guy to have the life he has and it's the same way for me. I love my wife (and she's getting hotter by the day), I love my kids (they're perfect to me), but it's been apparent that for a while I didn't feel the same about myself.
I can tie all this into poker somehow, because the above was basically a long description of me being on an ever-increasing amount of life-tilt for no real reason. It's taking effort to look at things constructively rather than destructively, but I believe I'm getting better at it. There's no doubt my poker results are correlating well with the change I've made. My only hopes is that I can continue to improve and make it a more permanent part of my behavior.
I may be beating myself up over something small and insignificant, but I really don't think I have anything to lose by trying to be a better person as a result, even if the impetus was unjust.
And with that, I'll be back to blogging.
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