Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

The Pursuit of Happiness




What an amazing document - the United States Constitution. I’m not a constitutional scholar, by any means. In fact, the greater reality is that every time I open my mouth or pen some words, I reveal the depth of my stupidity. I really do. I’m sure I’m going to do a lot of that in today’s post, but maybe you’ll cut me some slack. I hope so.

I recognize that so much of how we see our world is colored by our experiences. It really is that plain and simple. Judges can’t help it. Jurors can’t help. Moms and Dads and people all over the world can’t help it. For each of us – everything we do and say and think and feel is but a consequence of our experiences.

I’m not much into politics. I find the subject really disheartening because I believe the only way change can occur is if people get behind causes and do something to create the change they seek. But because so much of politics today is intertwined with the machine of commerce, too much falls through the cracks. That’s why I believe “Change” can’t and won’t come from any government. Instead, I believe real change can only happen personally. Individually. Locally. One person at a time.

It’s why families are so important. Each person born is automatically (for better or worse) inculcated by those that surround them. Their parents and siblings, or caregivers for those without families, create the blueprint by which they end up seeing the world, at least initially. Families and caregivers are so important it’s why I think Mother Teresa, on the day she received her Nobel Peace Prize in 1979 responded to the question of “What can we do to promote world peace?” with “Go home and love your family.”  Regardless of your views about Mother Teresa, I think she hit that one square on the head.

The subject of family is important to me. I grew up in a big, close-knit family, and I’m fortunate to have one of my own today. There’re just three of us in my nuclear family, but it never really feels like that because there are so many other family members involved, daily, in our lives and vice versa. We don’t always get along. We rarely all see eye to eye. But, at the end of the day – we love each other.

It’s for that reason that I get apoplectic when I hear politicians talking about things like family. Since we’re in the middle of the 2012 Primary, politicians are doing a lot of that lately, and to someone like me, it ain’t fun.

I don’t have the answers for what will make the world a better place or what’s right for you and yours. I only know what I deal with on a day to day basis and what makes up my life. And those things color what I think about when I hear these politicians.

I’m encouraged when I hear Mitt Romney close out a debate with a perfect sound bite - quoting the United States Declaration of Independence: 
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
It’s hard for me to stomach though when just a few minutes earlier, in response to a question about marriage, he says: 
...something other than the relationship between a man and a woman, I think, is a mistake….we want to encourage, through the benefits that we associate with marriage, people to form partnerships between men and women and then raise children, which we think will – that will be the ideal setting for them to be raised.
Good luck with that, dude. Seriously. The world contains nearly 7 billion people. The United States contains more than 300 million of them.  What constitutes a family cannot be defined and/or mandated by any government or politician or organization.

Regardless of what you think about gay marriage, how do you square his latter sentiments with those espoused in the Declaration of Independence? Especially when you consider that marriage is a right conferred by the government, which, as pointed out by Romney, conveys numerous privileges and benefits upon those who are able to marry?

When I watched the debates Saturday, I also did some tweeting. One of the things I tweeted was a reference to a United States Supreme Court case, decided in 1954. That case was Brown v. Board of Education. It’s a beautiful piece of work, so simply written, and it’s an opinion that helped usher in the Civil Rights movement and the creation of laws that still stand today outlawing discrimination against people on the basis of their skin color.

Because of that case and the subsequent legal requirements it engendered, most reasonable people, and certainly most children, can look around and go “duh, of course we don’t treat people differently because of their skin color. That’s just stupid.” How sad that it took the weight of the Supreme Court for this to come about, but it certainly solidifies the importance of the judicial branch of our government.

When I was in law school, I wanted to write a paper comparing the struggle identified in Brown with the arguments made regarding the state sanctioned right of marriage and how “domestic partnerships” are separate, unequal, and a violation of the Constitution.

I was lazy, though (and also not smart enough), to ever finish it. Also, I recognize that many people are offended by the comparison of gay rights to the struggle historically endured by people of color. I’m not a person of color and can never presume to understand what it’s like to be a person of color. Instead, I can only tell you what I believe.

And that is this: if race, which is innate (“you’re born that way”), and religion, which is absolutely a personal choice not discernible unless disclosed (“a choice”), are protected by our Constitution, then denying gays the right to marry is unconstitutional.

I haven’t put much thought into all this in a while, but of course these debates are kind of putting it back out there. So, this morning, I re-read Brown. I think the biggest problem I had with trying to make my argument is the contrast between the right that’s identified and ultimately protected in Brown – public education – as compared with the right of marriage.

The question comes down to this – is marriage a fundamental right? 

While Brown squarely and securely addresses this issue with respect to state sanctioned education, there is no United States Supreme Court case that says the same for state sanctioned marriage.

But when I digest what Brown said about education, I’m reminded of that old classic The Sneetches by Dr. Seuss and I can’t help but feel that the gist of the Court’s reasoning (while inapposite in many ways) applies equally to domestic partnerships and the right of gays to marry.

Specifically, the Court said:
…in finding that a segregated law school for Negroes could not provide them equal education opportunities, this Court relied in large part on ‘those qualities which are incapable of objective measurement but which make for greatness in a law school.’….Such considerations apply with added force to children in grade and high schools. To separate them from others of similar age and qualifications solely because of their race generates a feeling of inferiority as to their status in the community that may affect their hearts and minds in a way unlikely ever to be undone….Segregation of white and colored children in public schools has a detrimental effect upon the colored children. The impact is greater when it has the sanction of the law, for the policy of separating the races is usually interpreted as denoting the inferiority of the negro group. A sense of inferiority affects the motivation of a child to learn. Segregation with the sanction of law, therefore, has a tendency to [retard] the educational and mental development of negro children and to deprive them of some of the benefits they would receive in a racial[ly] integrated school system.
Sadly, in 1954 America, the country needed the highest court in the land to tell them what any kid today knows is fair and just.

Today when courts make legal rulings, we often hear an outcry about “activist judges.” That perspective helps us see the importance of the other branches of our government. But I can’t help wondering if that same mindset had been around in 1954 (58 years ago when Brown was decided), or in 1967 (45 years ago when Loving v. Virginia was decided), what measures (akin to Prop 8?) might have been taken by the majority to disenfranchise the minority.

Can you see what I’m getting at?

All these cases took time, decades, even. But, ultimately, the law got it right. 

Someday, it’s going to be the same for same-sex couples.  It will. Because, ultimately, it really is simple. 

Juxtapose the question of whether marriage is a fundamental right against the precepts identified in the Declaration of Independence: the equality of all men, each of whom is endowed with unalienable rights, including life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

And then ask yourself – what could be a more fundamental component in the pursuit of happiness then falling in love and choosing a life partner?

I say it doesn’t get any more fundamental than that.

My partner and I have been together for nearly 17 years. My daughter is seven years old. When my brothers and cousins got married, the family celebrated and the parties were excellent.

I don’t need (or want) the state to validate the love that I am fortunate to have in my life. But I do need the state’s sanction if I want the same rights, benefits, and privileges of marriage that my brothers, my cousins, and every other married couple in the United States enjoys.

Denying me and my family that right, in the face of the Fourteenth Amendment or the Declaration of Independence or Brown v. Board of Ed, or…say, Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries, for example – it’s just wrong, guys. And you know it.


I just hope it won’t take 50 years for us to get it right. A bunch of geriatrics getting down at my reception ain’t really what I had in mind…


Monday, September 26, 2011

Date Night When You Have Kids



Before my daughter was born, I worked in an office with floor to ceiling windows, co-workers, a break room, and an IT department that catered to our every technology need. 

I remember a conversation with a co-worker one morning, as I waited for the magic coffee machine to create my perfect cup of morning joe. 

"Kids are great. They are, but...just make sure you make time for each other. My husband and I try to have date nights, but it's hard. It's important, though, so do it. Ok? Do it!" said Elizabeth, with a touch of what I thought sounded like desperation. 

I think I laughed and said ok and I'm sure I did an inside eye-roll at the thought of needing to schedule a date night.

Fast forward six years and I'm no longer eye-rolling, unless you count the eye-roll I give myself thinking on that memory. 

Date nights are important. So if you're setting sail from that shore I left six years ago, let me share something with you: "Make sure you make time for each other. Date nights are hard to make time for but they're important, ok? So do it. OK? Do it!" 

And remember - date nights are not supposed to look like this:


Otherwise, your date night ends up costing more than any casual Friday night date the two of you would have spent on each other!

Sadly, having just received an email from school, I speak from experience...


Come on!!!

Sigh...




Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Balance



I was looking at my blog yesterday. I really appreciate the comments you guys leave and the fact that you're reading here. It's definitely an outlet and I'm surprised at how much enjoyment I get out of it. Writing like this is new to me, so to those of you reading - thanks for doing so.

I was looking at the blog with some sadness because I realize I haven't posted about any poker action in a while, and that's pretty much why I started blogging in the first place. I guess it's a good thing I've got that "...and life" caveat up there. 

Anyway, no real poker talk because I haven't been playing. That sucks and I miss it.

I know I'm not the only one.  

Without poker, though, I have to admit that I'm certainly more engaged in my life. Last time I went on a family vacation, we went to Disney and I took my laptop. Pretty sure I played every day after coming back from the park. I missed out on time with my daughter and the rest of my family, and that's really not fair. Plus, it ultimately hurts me because I can't get that time back. While I have good memories of the trip, my family's memories are all - "yeah, you were always on your computer." I'm embarrassed by that truth. Not to mention the fact that it's not like I was racking up big scores, because I wasn't. 

That's the dilemma in a lot of things in life, isn't it? To be really great at something, you have to give it everything you have. That means time, energy, focus, commitment - everything. I've said it before - it's why you see, more often than not, so many young, single guys excelling at this game.

This forced time off from poker has been eye-opening for me in a lot of different ways. I love the game and I want to win; I also want to be present for my life. 

...I guess what I'm getting at is the importance of balance.

As a former BigLaw zombie, though, my deep down gut belief is that there's no such thing.

I remember in the days before my own daughter was born, watching my law partner trying to balance his litigation practice with the needs of his two kids and his wife, who's a doctor. While he often left work early to attend games or would arrive late because he was the one getting his kids off to school, he was also the one who'd send out to-do list emails at 3:00 in the morning. And this was in piddly San Antonio, Texas. I know of female partners in Houston and New York who weren't even willing to do that. Instead, they either had husbands who didn't work or full-time nannies. Essentially, outsourcing their home lives. This is not uncommon in a lot of different professions.

The elusiveness of a sane work-life balance is not a new concept. Whether you're trying to be the top rainmaker in your BigLaw job or the Main Event WSOP champ, I'm not sure "balance" is something you can truly incorporate into your life and still be those things. Maybe once you've achieved those things, yes, but not before - not really. That's my view, anyway.

I wasn't willing to live that way for a BigLaw job. But hearing the comments from my family these past few weeks about how much fun it's been having me around, I can see that I was apparently very willing to live that way for poker.

Right now, I don't have poker pulling at me as it was when I could readily fire up as many tables as I could handle online. I'm reading more, I'm cooking more, I'm writing more, I'm present more. Those are good things. 

A lot of things since Black Friday have helped me see that we only get so many minutes and hours and months and years in a life. I love poker...but I also want to wring out as much as I can from each second I've got left. 

I'm chagrined to say that I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be writing or feeling any of this if Black Friday hadn't occurred because I was working so hard on my game.  But now, I've time to reflect on how I was living. And how I wasn't.

I don't know what the future holds for online poker, but this time has helped me see that I want things to be different when it comes back around.

Then again, maybe I've just been listening to too much Amos Lee.  


Thursday, June 23, 2011

The Question



My trip to the series is right around the corner. I'm gearing up for the basics by trying to make sure simple stuff is out of the way - like getting my hairs did, gathering for the packing all the things I know I'm going to want during this sojourn, and making sure as much of my "work work" is out of the way as possible.  But something feels off. 

The last time I made a trip to play a bunch of live tournaments, I was playing a ton of online poker. I wasn't having a ton of success, but I was playing. A lot. Obviously that scene's changed for all of us since Black Friday. Aside from that lack, though, something else feels different for me, and I can't quite articulate it...I'm thinking, though, that it has to do with mi familia.  We've been putting a ton of work in on the house and the backyard lately and it's starting to come together. Plus, it's summertime and my baby's home with me as I work from my home office during the day (at least on those days she's not at summer camp). 

This week, she's in Miami with my better half and my MIL. I was supposed to go, but I had a last minute hearing this morning that I just couldn't get changed. As a result, I'm without my loves this week AND the next two weeks. While I'll get to see them briefly this weekend before I leave on Monday, I'm already missing them.

As I write all this, I guess what I'm feeling is conflicted. My trip to Vegas, while I know it's going to be fun, is a business trip for me - just like my trip to Reno was. If I go and I do not play my best and do not score well, then I know I'm going to feel as though I've wasted two weeks out of my regular work schedule and two weeks from my loves. Even though my eyes are open about the variance involved in tournament poker and I know enough to recognize the futility of being results oriented, I want to win and anything less than a win is going to suck and feel like a waste to me. Is it that way for you, too? I can't be the only one...

 Every year for the past two years I've spent time in Vegas during the series. I did better last year then I did the year before. I've got my goals for this year, too. All I can do is play my best, learn as much as I can, and grow from the experience.  

Looking at the tweets of so many good and great players during the course of this year's series, I know I'm just one of many looking to win. But just like each of them, that's exactly what I'll be trying my hardest to do.

What an opportunity it is to play this game that is so fun (FUN!) fun to play, and yet so difficult to master. Every hand, every table, every moment - it's such a challenge, such an adventure, such a journey, played against an opponent(s), but often times played solely against self as we struggle with decisions.  So very much like life in so many ways. Each hand, like each new moment, an opportunity. The question, each time: what will you do with this opportunity?

Sunday, June 5, 2011

San Antonio Boys



My cash game consists of a revolving door of bankers, dentists, politicians, car salesmen, mortgage brokers, real estate agents, a news anchor, an angel investor, and two or three boys whose occupations I can't yet pinpoint. Because the guys who run the game are in the car business, I *think* these outliers are mechanics, but I'm not sure. They are cagey and cautious, but wearily eagle-eyed in their approach.  I try to avoid them in pots because I know they're there for the same reason I am - to take the big boys' money.  Sometimes they're lucky.  More often, they're not.  Away from the table, thinking about hands, I wonder if these maybe-mechanics trade gibes on break in the garage with the salesmen about the salesman's sloppy call that got there on the river.

These "boys" are not boys at all. They're men, with families and businesses and lives away from the table, but in each heart dwells the soul of a gambler with a dream of being the next Doyle Brunson or the new Phil Ivey. We've all got a long way to go before we get there. But we dream.

And we play.

And as we play, I learn about their lives. Their businesses and hunting trips, the upcoming plans for Vegas. And about their children...and their wives.

Two beautiful boys, with gorgeous eyes, the close-cropped hair reminiscent of days in the Aggie corps of cadets, chiseled faces and strong hands. And in those eyes, as they drink and study their hands, throw chips and talk, I see their anguish and it makes me so sad. I don't know why their marriages are breaking up. I don't know what they were like at home, whether they weren't available or whether they ran around. But what I do know is that they're not running around tonight because they're here with me. At this table, with seven other boys. Shuffling chips and counting cards, absentmindedly looking at the fight on TV ever so often as the button continues its never ending rotation around the table.

I don't know what they do on those nights we don't play, but nothing I've heard indicates nights of debauchery and skirt chasing. Instead, I hear about business deals and upcoming tournaments and occasionally the hurt comes out, "After 18 years, man...I don't know...I don't know if she was cheating, but she got so damn caught up on the FaceBook, that she never had time for me any more."

I wonder if she felt that way about his poker.

I can't speak for all games (and I'm not talking about guys who are spending money they and their families can't afford to lose), but I think if more wives understood what most poker nights often actually consist of, they wouldn't begrudge their men the opportunity to live out their dreams for a few hours each week.

I hate the thought of families breaking up, especially when there are children involved. These stories come out, deal after deal, pot after pot. And I'm fascinated. If there's anything to be thankful for after Black Friday, for me anyway, it's this live poker game. And these brief moments of human interaction, at its best...and sometimes at its worst.

Being, as I am, a native-Texan, I do have a soft, sweet spot for Texas boys. The best I know are in my own family. After finding this game, I have to say, there's nothing like a San Antonio boy. And if you've got one, you should hold on tight.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

PoPo Shut Me Down



I am sometimes asked whether the avatar on my blog and Twitter is me. It's not. I blog and tweet behind an avatar because to use my real name would, on a google search of said name, result in a bunch of un-lawyer-ly information illustrating how deep my love for poker runs (not to mention a bunch of dumb Twitter rants).

While I suppose in this day and age there's nothing really wrong with that, I am not currently making my living from poker and so it matters to me what opposing counsels and clients think.  Most non-poker playing clients generally don't like the thought that, during any downtime, their attorneys are not living and breathing their case and business matters.

Poker is an easy game to play, but a tough game to master; and, to get good enough to be a profitable player, you have to play. A lot.  I've been playing poker recreationally since the birth of my daughter (who's 6 now), and I only began taking the game serious in late 2009.  Since I live in Texas, online poker is really the only way I can play with the regularity and volume that's required to get good.  Indeed, when I play, study, and review hands, I'm always mindful of Malcolm Gladwell's 10,000 hour rule...practice makes perfect.

Before last Friday, I was practicing a lot. (To understand what Friday, also known as Black Friday, means to online poker players, read this and this.) I had reached the point where I was actually making money at the game. My cash game is still wildly uneven and always a threat to my bankroll, but my tournament play was really coming along.  Since 2006 (and remember b/w 2006 and late 2009 it was all recreational - I didn't even learn the concept of bankroll management until 2009!), I have maintained a nearly 10% ROI.  I know it's not that great, but as one of my coaches told me, anyone who can make even $1 profit in this game is doing better than the vast majority of people who play. Poker is, after all, a zero sum game...if someone else is winning, you're losing.

Because I was showing improvement and because I could play on-line, I made a decision earlier this year to cut back on my practice in order to grind the volume necessary to improve and to give myself a realistic picture of whether or not I had what it takes to make poker a profession.  Everyone in my family was on board with that idea and supportive of me pursuing my dream. Absent their support, I honestly couldn't even consider doing this.

After last Friday, though, that support has given way to questioning and concern for the very legality of this passion of mine. I'm thankful now that I've blogged and twittered under my Poker Girl With Cards avatar because if the people who know and love me are feeling this way, I can only imagine what my clients and opposing counsels would be thinking.  It wouldn't be good.

Unfortunately, I don't live where I can just drive to a casino and take my shot that way. So for the foreseeable future, my pokering will have to be live, which means I'll really have to coordinate to make the trips cost-effective and workable for my family. I'm still planning on the WSOP this summer and will also likely play the WSOP-c event in Louisiana.  But after that, who knows?  And while I'd hoped to play tons online with measured practice to gear up for the series, I'm now forced to rely on finding a safe local game and on the study and review of HHs from previous tournaments. 

Last but not least, Black Friday has forced me to get back into full-time lawyering. I'm thankful I've got that to fall back on but I have to admit it's just not as much fun. Seriously, give me being one-outed on the river any day.  Please.

Remind me of that when they get the pipeline open again.

Until then, it's back to Vernon's and Lexis for me.  In the meantime, I hope you're able to play.  And if you are, thank your lucky stars and run good, amigos.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Scenes from a Road Trip...






Spring Break 2011, we headed to the mountains...and we brought a few things...






Five minutes on the road and someone already needed a pitspot...

On the road, there was a lot to see:



We thought the PoPo was going to shut us down, but we just got a warning, wheeeeee!


West Texas is beautiful, even through a bug splattered window:


We finally get to @EvryDaySaturday's cabin, it was late...


You know it was her cabin because of all the crosses:

 The rest of the time was spent hiking, fishing, skiing and playing...


Mama even got in some poker time:



...and it was fun!

Road trip home was long but fun (even though we did get a ticket) and the girls were great.  We pitstopped at the Alien Museum in Roswell:




Road trips are a blast and I highly recommend them. But I do have to admit that if I never hear another Justin Bieber song or see/smell those crappy Slim Jim's (which I do not eat!) again, that'll be just fine by me.  Well, at least until the next road trip.  

Super Moon 2011

Before I finish up this post, I wanted to share about the $1/$2 cash games I got to play.  As I said on twitter, I was a little worried to sit down and try my hand.  The first night, I sat down with $200 and within 40 minutes, I was able to walk away with $400.  I played three hands during that time and got lucky with a flopped set of 7s that paid off nicely and an AQs raise from the BU that earned nicely too.

The second night, I sat down again with $200.  I played tightly and conservatively and the hands I showed down were Ts and AKs.  But then I wrangled with Tom...a grizzled poker and Korean War veteran who'd been at the tables each time I'd gone by the poker room.

When I sat down, Tom was sitting in front of about $800.  Within a few orbits, I grew my own stack to about $350 and was having a really nice time talking to Daniel and Angela, both of whom were on my immediate left.  I learned that Angela was a (winning) regular, having moved from a small West Texas town to try her hand at professional pokering in Ruidoso.  She was the best kind of regular - a true player, but the kind who made players feel good losing their stacks to her.  Given that she was two to my left, I knew I needed to be careful with my starting hands.

Tom's stack continued to grow - if everyone limped, he'd raise big in position and usually take down the pot preflop or with a flop c-bet.  If he had a good hand in EP, he'd raise it up and make you pay to play (his showdowns from EP raises were Qs and AKs, but I'd also see him get to SD w/ Q7s).  At one point, I tried to initiate some conversation with him, but he wasn't having it. So, I remarked on his poker face.  He just looked at me - not menacingly, but not necessarily friendly.  The next hand, he raises and I come along with a caller in front of me.  Tom c-bets the flop and the other player calls, but I fold.  Tom ends up taking down a pretty big pot and finally gives me a smile, saying, "I wanted you to stay in that pot!"  We laughed and all was fun and games as he continues to roll over the table.

Finally, Tom raises to $13 from UTG and he gets one caller from MP.  I look down at AcTc in the hijack position and for some pretty dumb reason, I decide this is the hand I'm going to tangle with Tom. I make it $30 to go.  Everyone folds save Tom and the MP caller.  Flop comes xx4c.  Checks to me and I make it $55.  Tom calls and MP calls (and is all in).  I was hoping with the c-bet, I'd get everyone out and take down a nice pot.  Plans foiled...now what?

Turn brings another c and the board is all lower cards.  At this point, I know Tom has a big hand, a pair of something - I'm thinking Ts or better, and he's beating the current board, at least with one pair.  And when MP called, I figured him for a set.  I have nothing but a long shot flush draw and the need for an A to fall to beat at least one of them or so I'm thinking.  This pot is huge and I want it.

Tom checks to me and I put in one stack ($100) and have one left behind.  Maybe I should've checked this turn card, but I have represented a huge hand pre flop, on the flop, and I'm going to continue representing that, so I bet.  Tom just calls.  If he had raised and put me all-in?  Would pot odds have dictated a call?  (using the Rule of 4 and 2* on the turn, the pot was approximately $400 and I had 9 outs to complete my flush and 3 outs to give me a pair of As.  So, 12 x 2 = a 24% chance of making my hand.  I only had $100 behind, so all I could call was $100 into a $400 pot...pots odds are more than the percentage of making my hand...I don't know if I could have or should have folded in that hypo.  And I think it's safe to say that he DID put me on a big hand, otherwise, why didn't he raise me on the flop or the turn?)

River card to come and I'm praying for a club.  Dealer burns and turns.  And BOOM.  Club.

Tom checks to me.  I slowly move my last stack in and he calls.  I'm embarrassed that I've river flushed but elated that it came.  I can hardly even look at Tom or anyone else at the table because I know I got lucky.  Tom turns over Qs, MP shows his flopped set of 4s and they all just stare agape at my rivered nut flush.

Tom doesn't speak and Angela whispers, "I never would've put you on that, girl." I tell her, "I got lost in that hand and then I got lucky" and she nods emphatically, yes.

And there you have it.  I don't think I'm completely over my trepidation of playing cash poker, but I do feel better after these two experiences, though I know I've still got a lot to learn.

Later gators and good luck at the tables!

------------------------------------------------------
*I saw a great video on the Rule of 4 and 2 by Kara Scott for Party Poker, but I can't find it for the life of me....I'll edit and link to it if I find it. and found it again today so...EDIT 3/25/11 to include link to the Party Poker video...good stuff.  Thanks, Kara (on the extremely off chance she'd be reading this...but still...)

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

I Haz No Inheritance



Why am I not surprised Hollywood's never come calling...?





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Friday, February 11, 2011

Catfood



So my mom tweeted me this morning that she'd finally tried her hand at the Inn of the Mountain Gods.  She and Dad have been holed up in a New Mexico snow storm for the past two weeks, so what better use of your time than to dig yourself out of the cabin, put on your snowshoes and your mink, and trek to the 'sino to play against a bunch of restless regulars just waiting to take your money?  What could go wrong, right?  Well, here's what poker did to my mom:


and...


Fortunately, there's hope:


All I know is, I come by it natural.


As for my own daughter's inheritance...not looking so good, as I have lost $250 of my bankroll since my last post.  I'm trying to incorporate what I learned in my recent training, but I really need to work on it.  Plus, I've not been analyzing my play before and after sessions.  So, me and old catfood lady may be shacking up soon.


Damn you, pokers.  Damn you. 


------------------------------------

Saturday, January 15, 2011

R.T.



Today I learned that R.T. stood for Roy Thaddeus. You see, the man officially known as R.T. McDaniel was my granddaddy's business partner and a giant of a man whom I don't think I fully comprehended wasn't a part of my own nuclear family until I started high school.  I knew him as Pete.  And today was his funeral.  He would've been 89 years old on February 2nd.

Pete was married to Georgia for 64 years, and she survives him.  The first time I heard Willie Nelson sing "Georgia," I remember feeling so amazed because I was sure it was written specifically for her.  It was nice, but bittersweet, to see her face today and hug her neck.  Especially since seeing her reminds me of my own grandparents who have been gone ten and six years now, themselves.   

Pete was a bear of a man and I mean that literally.  A toddler could look up for days and still not see the top of him.  A high school footballer could stand next to him and still only come to his shoulders.  The stories abounded today of his hands, the bear hugs he'd give that left you laughing, gasping for breath because each time you'd forget just what it felt like getting your neck hugged by him.  Indeed, I do believe he was the one who coined "come 'ere and lemme hug yer neck," for our family.  One of his hands easily covered the whole side of your head from shoulder to crown.

Those hands hugged a lot of necks and they built a lot of businesses and provided for one hell of a family.

Pete and Georgia had three daughters, seven grandchildren, and ten great-grandchildren.  And, like I said, most of my family functions growing up included them (and vice versa).  I wonder if the days of people enjoying family businesses like that are long gone.  I hope not.

As my dad said today when he spoke about Pete, he was most definitely part of "the Greatest Generation," having endured the Great Depression and World War II's Burma Road and making more than just a life in the hard-scrabble oil fields of West Texas.

I, however, just knew him as Pete.  A man I loved and never saw without a smile on his face, save for the day we buried my granddad.  

Pete - I'm glad to have known you...thank you for everything.

An obituary for Pete can be found here.
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Saturday, September 18, 2010

Passions



I lived in Dallas, Texas until the 3rd grade.  On my block on Santa Teresa, I had two best friends, Sarah and James.  I remember James had hair the color of dusty caramel.  It was short but thick and tough like a Brillo pad.

James and I were shirtless every day we could get away with it. We were sinewy and tan and superheroes and shirtless made for easier tree climbing. The trees on Santa Teresa were Goliaths. Certainly they were on par with those growing in the Redwood National Forest.

When I was 8 or 9, I loved my jean jacket and my BB gun.  I remember exploring the pastures near my grandparents' home looking for things to shoot with my beebees.  Watching brittle rust fly from tin cans brought the most satisfaction but fence posts and anything that made that great *ping zing* sound would do. I was the biggest tom-boy growing up. I don't think I even realized I was a girl until I started 6th grade.

Photo Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Being in West Texas, these pastures generally consisted of not much more than caliche and sand paths meandering around humming, groaning pumpjacks, gnarled and weathered mesquite (which is still my favorite tree), and lots and lots of tumbleweed.  West Texans treasure this stuff so much they made a State Park out of it. White Sands in New Mexico always gets the glory but the Monahans Sandhills are an unsung Texas gem.

When I turned sixteen, I got a camera for my birthday.  My whole family came over to celebrate.  "Whole family" for me included both my brothers, Mom and Dad, my Grandparents, Great-Grandparents, Aunt and Uncle and cousins.  That's a lot of family in one little West Texas town (I had other aunts/uncles and cousins in other towns and the family has grown exponentially since then).  I didn't get away with much growing up but I sure tried.

The camera was a very expensive Canon, included all the fancy lenses and film and I even got lessons as part of the package.  I promptly opened my presents, gave some desultory thanks and headed out the door to go to a friend's house.  Spoiled brat. Man, was a I lucky.

As a senior, I got a guitar.  I took a few lessons but mainly I learned the basic chords and taught myself to play the songs I loved most.  For me, music is the most nostalgic form of memory.  I can picture moments in time when certain songs come on.

'Already Gone' by the Eagles is the highway between home and the Guadalupe Mountains, Big Bend, Balmorhea, Garner State Park, Carlsbad Caverns, or Ruidoso.  Windows rolled down, hot wind blowing, I'm in the window ledge of the battered station wagon (or maybe it was the red and black suburban), one brother's in the other and the other's on the floor...probably crying or playing with Hot Wheels.  Or maybe they're on the ledges and I'm on the floor reading a book.  Wind blows my Dad's hair.  He's singing...one hand on the wheel, the other crooked out the open window. 

'Bali Hai' from South Pacific is a kitchenette efficiency hotel in Ruidoso.  How Mom got us to watch it is still a mystery but this was before Nintendo DS and smart phones, Twitter and Facebook.  We loved it.  Plus, she made homemade popcorn with extra gravy (real butter).

'Super Freak' by Rick James is the local Mexican food restaurant.  I've just punched the numbers for the song on the juke box before I remember I'm there with my dad.  And my granddad.  I am mortified as I hear Rick start singing, "she's a very kinky girl...the kind you don't bring home to motha....."  I walk back to the table wishing I could disappear and hoping, praying they're not listening to the words. The line of my dad's mouth as he chews his enchiladas tells me this is not so.  We eat in silence as "I really like to taste her (every time we meet)" reverberates in my ears. 

After college, work in a real job and a real office with a real boss and co-workers was what every self-respecting person I knew was supposed to be passionate about.  And I was for a long while.  I didn't go to law school until after I'd worked in the "real world" for nearly ten years.  So, being older, when I went law school, I treated it like my job.  And it's proved fruitful.  Yet...I assume that the law, like accounting (or anything corporate, really?), can suck the joie de vivre out of pretty much anything after awhile...and if you let it.

A little more than five years ago now, during some time off before my daughter was born, I found a site online where I could play a card game called Poker.  And there were other people there playing, too, not just computer bots.

Poker feels like music to me.  Different hands are different songs, each holding distinct memories of places, times, people.

Today, I play online and live.  I talk about poker, read about it, study it, twitter about it, blog about it, dream about it.  

I wonder if it will last.
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