Courageous Cat

Today's post is all about inter-species communication. The black feline in the picture is Vlad who resides at M's house. The picture was taken by the next-door neighbor, who is the owner of the very large twenty year old parrot. Vlad is a wise animal and is fully aware that the parrot is larger than he is and has a very sharp beak. But sometimes he just has to hop the fence and ponder the possibilities of 'what if'.

I am going to make this a long weekend, so today I leave you with other furry and feathery images.

Enjoy the weekend.

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The (Poker) Shrink Speaks Again

A year ago I offered these same advisory comments to my friends in the poker media regarding the inevitable World Series of Poker burnout from long hours, bad food, poker playing and ridiculously high standards for tournament reporting that no one reads. I received several laudatory comments from my writing buddies, but no one actually took my advice. While I don't miss being in Las Vegas for six weeks in the roasting heat, I do miss my friends among the players, tournament staff and media. So, today I want to (re)remind everyone that total exhaustion is not a requirement of the impending WSOP Main Event.

Rule #1: Rest! 

Resting does not include clubs (night or gentlemen's). You might consider some exercise, again that would mean a gym not a gentlemen's club. The big parties are in full swing this week; the barbeques are fine, the all night drunken rolls with or without running Twitter commentaries are not. Those of you who will not take this advice, please do twitter away all the details, drunken tweets are always great for next day prop bets.

To the players, remember you are the one who said:

"This is a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"I have been running bad the whole series, but now the main event is here."

"I am going to focus and be prepared to play" is not a line that should be followed by ". . . another round for the table."

Yes, Las Vegas is a lot of fun, lots and lots of fun. But not the night before your Super Bowl. This really is the World Series of Poker and if you are good, skillful and lucky; it will last nearly two weeks, you really think it is wise to go out and party the night before you or your backer upchucks ten thousand dollars?

Back to my buddies in the poker media. Repeat after me. Nothing happens on Day One, not Day 1A or 1B or C or D. There is no reason to further stress yourself out to report on anything but the funny hats and stupid costumes. Also no one makes the money on Day Two, not Day 2A or 2B. Lots of stuff happens but nearly none of it is worth reporting. Things get semi-serious on Day Three or maybe Four, so pace yourself and next year remember all the resolutions you made this year. You know: eat right, use the gym, don't play poker after a 12 hour writing day, finish your screen play and read that book on Omaha 8. But for now -- go to back to bed! 


Finally I would add that not hearing a single chip shuffle or someone yelling "Floor!" every five minutes is what most people call summer. 


Hang in there, it really is almost over.

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June Link Dump

Tis been a busy month with way more web information than I could post. So here is an end of the month link dump. First, something fanciful -- that map up there is called Food Wars, which shows the territories covered by the major food chains in the USA. Not at all what I expected.

Next, a couple of new blogs I find very interesting. My nephew Jake is in China doing a summer internship and has chosen to stay in touch via Tastes Like Chicken. Then there is my good friend Mira, who has literally leapt into the blogosphere with her and this part is true blog; already 13 posts in less than a month, now that is a blogger.

May I humbly recommend that you take about ten minutes to read this Conversation with God. No really. I found it very enlightening. I am sure there are several Mormons out there smirking because their faith has several similarities to this thesis. But do give it a read, ten minutes ain't that long.

For another dose of spirituality, one of my poker media buddies, Michelle Lewis, has a nice (non-poker) piece on the Meaning of the Number 9.

Having trouble focusing, try this little visual test from the NYTimes and this second one on multi-tasking. Let me know if they work for you, I scored 100% on both and methinks they may be underestimating us cybernoids.

I will wrap up with an Annie Lennox take on Bob Marley's Waiting in Vein.

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A Little Poker

This is a little poker story followed by some nostalgia from my days in the world of professional poker. For my non-poker readers, trust me, you will know when to stop reading.* 

Early last week the fire alarm system in my building was being worked on, which meant that the very loud clarion clanging cacophony  was going off just outside my door every five minutes. On the third detonation I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my keys and headed for the car. I really didn't have a destination until I was a block or so from the apartment when I thought of the Oaks Card Club in nearby Emeryville. Fifteen minutes later and I am slipping into an Omaha 8 seat and being greeted by the friendly table captain.

It takes a standard couple of rounds for the locals to ask where you are from and where have you played before. When I mentioned Las Vegas, the World Series of Poker came up and I was asked if I had ever played in the WSOP. Normally what would follow would be my admission to covering the Series for the last four years, which would lead to question about why I am not there this year and eventually the Matusow book comes up and -- well -- I have been there before and just wasn't interested in going there again, at least not that day.

"You ever been to the World Series?"

"Nope, never have."

As soon as I said it, I knew those were the right words. Most days I just don't have any interest in what I was so immersed in for the past five years. I do keep track of a few players at the Series, but those are my friends. I do read a few of the writers currently working the tournaments at the Rio, but again those are my buddies and I am more interested in what they write about away from the poker tables than anything that happens during the games.*

I covered the WSOP for four summers (Gold-Yang-Eastgate-Cada) and I look back at that I remember much more about the time away from the poker tables and infinitely more about the preliminary events than about the main event. Except for Mike's great run in the '08 main, while Amy and I were finishing the book.

For my media buddies sweltering in the desert heat, I offer this bit of historical pondering. Notice my years of coverage and compare them to yours, I think I perhaps didn't choose my tenure wisely.

(Jamie Gold-Jerry Yang-Peter Eastgate-Joe Cada)

(Robert Varkonyi-Chris Moneymaker-Greg Raymer-Joe Hachem)

(Scotty Nguyen-Noel Furlong-Chris Ferguson-Carlos Mortensen)

(Russ Hamilton-Dan Harrington-Huck Seed-Stu Ungar)

(Mansour Matloubi-Brad Dougherty-Hamid Dastmalchi-Jim Bechtel)

(Berry Johnston-Johnny Chan-Johnny Chan-Phil Hellmuth)

(Jack Strauss-Tom McEvoy-Jack Keller-Bill Smith)

(Bobby Baldwin-Hal Fowler-Stu Ungar-Stu Ungar)

(Johnny Moss-Sailor Roberts-Doyle Brunson-Doyle Brunson)

(Johnny Moss-Johnny Moss-Amarillo Slim Preston-Puggy Pearson)

I think only two of those groups might be more forgettable then my four year stint.

(Matloubi-Daugherty-Dastmalchi-Bechtel)

or

(Yang-Eastgate-Cada-??????)

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Manichean

Manichean (man-i-KEE-uhn)
1. pertaining to a strongly dualistic worldview.
2. An adherent of the dualistic religious system of Manes, a combination of gnostic Christianity, Buddhism, Zoroastrianism, and various other elements, with a basic doctrine of a conflict between light and dark.

I am by nature opposed to dualism. I don't believe in light versus dark or good versus evil. Yet, many of the world's great religions are founded on such beliefs, not to mention many more secular philosophies, dozens of national constitutions and nearly all wars.

On one hand I believe any thoughtful person will concede that nearly nothing can be framed in a purely good versus evil dichotomy. Even in the darkest of evils and the brightest of perfections there are elements of the other. But more importantly the human minds that are observing these clashes of opposites almost never agree on which side is light or evil or dark or good. Grey is the color of the day, all day, every day, until the final day.

Standing on the far side of the battlefield we invariably find other humans who feel as strongly about their position in the light of good and truth and right as those on our side. Yes, yes I know you want to bring up Hitler and the Nazis right about now. I concede there are historical aberrations to contradict any position. However....

As fairly evolved sentient beings we are or should be capable of using our ability to perceive subtle nuances to inform our worldview. We should be able to discount the jingoistic speeches of political leaders and make measured judgments about our side (light) and the other side (dark), because there are equally intelligent, evolved individuals on the other side who would reverse those dark & light flags.

Part of the problem is one position cannot grow to be better, more light or inherently correct unless the opposing philosophy becomes more dark, more evil and inherently wrong. Such dramatic opposition leads to conflict, battle and war. Where does it all end? I would suggest the more productive question is to ask: Where did it all begin?

Conflict usually begins when there exists one or more dualistic views. If you strongly believe your position to be right, then others must be wrong. Wrong equals opposition to your position, which is by self-definition -- right. I encourage examining where your beliefs are dualistic or oppositional to another and then perhaps -- listening to the other. Start small. Begin with a minor disagreement. Leave terrorism, abortion and whaling for later.

Ever wonder why the dominate color of this blog is grey.

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Around the Firepit

Remember those late night debates in the dormitory. Do you miss them? I don't. Well I don't miss being 19 and talking and acting like I knew more than I did. But I do miss the conversation, the camaraderie and yes, the mind expansion that flow from interactions like those. I enjoy the feelings that honest, open, intense conversation engenders.

I was reminded of this a few weekends ago, when some of my olde grad school friends and I got together, had a big meat laden barbeque and then late into the night, we tossed yet one more log on the coals and launched into one more topic. Sometimes I miss heated conversations where polysyllabic utterances are not discouraged and where loud and pointed disagreement is often met with laughter and even agreement.

Read all you will, ponder until the dragons come home but articulating what you are formulating to an interested and attentive cadre is oh so satisfying. Even when they beat up your still half-formed thesis.

Gotta do that again soon.

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Telegraph Avenue

I have lived in several university towns and spent a fair amount of time in many others: Ann Arbor, Madison, Cambridge, Austin, Westwood, Berkeley. While they all show the liberal influence of the ivy covered walls, they are all somewhat unique. Most influence neighborhoods they share, others dominate the entire city. And then there is the People's Republic of Berkeley.

Such a mixture of liberal/radical politics existing right alongside fantabulous contradictions. For a place of peace, freedom and social justice there are a lot of regulations. Mostly these are seen as "for the people" and against the establishment but rules are rules and are therefore necessarily anti-freedom. But politics and bureaucracy are not my topics today. Telegraph Avenue is.

Telegraph Ave. is less than 5 miles long. It runs from downtown Oakland north-north-east to the south entrance of the UC Berkeley campus at Sather Gate, which then spills directly into Sproul Plaza where "those" protests took place in the 60's. But when most of us hear Telegraph Avenue, we think of the last four blocks at the UCB end of Telegraph, where you can still buy beads, candles, radical bumper-stickers and incense. I live about five minutes from this stretch of Telegraph, so I know the restaurants and other necessary establishments there, yes olde friends I live within walking distance of Tienda Ho.

Early last week, I was up on Telegraph running errands, I hit the post office, grabbed a sandwich at Cafe Mattina and was looking for a place to make my seasonal lottery purchase. After casually keeping my eye out for a lottery sign, I realized that in the mecca of anti-establishmentarianism there was not going to be a retailer who would alienate the local clientele by trading in such a income discriminatory hidden tax. I think I must have been smiling even more broadly as I turned off Telegraph to head back to the apartment. I rounded the last corner stepping slightly around a well dressed young woman, who I noted was a bit out of place on the lingering hippy sidewalks of Telegraph when I heard her whisper;

"Date?"


There it was, in the heartland of free love, a Tuesday afternoon solicitation. I wish I had not simply strolled on. I would like to know more about prostitution on Telegraph Ave. Think I could have gotten five minutes of conversation for what? maybe twenty bucks?

The times they are achangin'.

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