potato vine blossoms -- cupertino
a return to greatness
"the ecosystem of blogging is more important than the content being generated."
-- george siemens
this was almost 20 years ago at the university of colorado, two guys are walking past me, in a *very* animated conversation ... one says to the other ...
"... and this got into the boulder water supply!?"
i just barely heard the other guy say, "yeah."
mahakala -- not very happy, like always
tile and light pattern -- museum walk entrance
andy goldsworthy -- "snake river" made from stanford building stones, rubble of the 1989 earthquake
almost certainly he has ace's and is underplaying afraid of my straight, or of my made low that just is going to abuse him.
sixth street brings me 9s. i'm holding (2s 7s) 2d 3h As 9s there hasn't been another spade as an up-card on the table. to the best of my knowledge, of the 37 cards left in the deck: nine are spades and almost certainly flush winners. my opponent is definitely not playing low. two 4's are left, all 5's, all 6's and three 8's -- excluding the 4s, 5s, 6s, and 8s as already having been counted, that's nine more cards that will get me lows. trips will probably be good enough here too, so the other two 2's work. so 20 of the 37 cards, barring something really freakish, will get me half or all of the pot. my over-zealousness to drive the other guy out has made me deeply committed to this hand ... still, he's been playing very weak/tight at this table and i don't feel like it was wrong -- he's thought about passing a couple of times, he just hasn't done it ... if he did, i'd have a winner.
i get my last down card. it's a 3. godDAMMIT. one of my worst possible cards. now i've got a tiny two pair. i'm almost forced to call if he bets, but not strong enough to bet if checked to. i can beat the pair of aces i'm certain he has, but i can't beat him if he has two-pair. he bets, i call. yep, he has two-pair, ace's over. and as if that wasn't enough, every down card he has is a spade.
i'm now sitting with something like 150. i need to get a hand, and i need it quickly. antes of 15 each are gonna gnaw at me and we're less than two minutes from antes going to 25 and bets being 100/200.
the announcement is made that the levels will increase on the next hand when i'm dealt (A 2) 5. there's a bet and a raise in front of me, with three players in. from the way he's fondling his chips, i can tell the guy behind me is going to call as well. three people are vying for high, super-stack is playing low. there're no exposed aces. i don't like this hand, only because i have to draw to it to make it -- we're crossing that line where you play for low at the beginning of a tourney and high at the end ... but this is three of the lowest possible starting cards i can have -- and it's true, they're inside straight, but the odds on the money are good due to all the people betting. i think, "if i drop this hand now, will my cards get better than this?" maybe not soon enough. i think i have to play this hand.
fourth street is a 7. not great, but still in the low set of possibilities and the other low guy has bricked. i check, the guy behind me bets, i call when it's my turn. still five-way action.
fifth street is a 6. i now have a low. a weak, anemic, low with what's known as a "rough 7" to be sure, but i'm the only one who mathematically can have one at this point. i have some freak runner-runner straight draws. this hand isn't great, but it's not horrific.
i push all-in. a guy behind me raises all-in and forces yet another player all-in.
seventh street is dealt with no betting between the two players who are left that have that option.
the guy who was obviously playing high has rivered a full-house. he eliminates two, namely a set of trips and an A-high flush.
mr. super stack has rivered one of only five cards left in the deck that can beat me for low and has the second lowest possible hand, a stunning A2346. he eliminates me.
unlike online, you don't know your exact standing, but i'd guess i was probably in the top of the bottom third. i played for three-and-a-half hours. i had one good hand (the 10's) and two hands that i may have over-pressed. i made one good play where a guy passed on a hand when he was better than i was.
in general, there were two players who i thought were considerably better than me, three that i thought played worse, and the rest were indeterminate. i was surprised, frankly, of how strong my play was, relatively speaking -- but having said that, i did lose and am out ... so it's always possible that i don't know what the hell i'm talking about.
in the next 15 minutes, because of the stakes being upped, i'd guess as many people were eliminated as in the previous three hours.
if this were a job, i'd be losing $285/hr, or $570k/yr.
so yeah, i'm glad i did it -- i wish i'd done better. studies have been done that have shown testosterone count drops in people who lose, and i believe it. my bollocks feel like they're about the size of b.b.'s.
but winning something like this is possible -- i was surprised that the overall level of play wasn't much, much higher. i can imagine studying the hell out of this game and having a chance. the hardcore pros don't pay a lot of attention because the entry fee isn't high and the prize pool isn't hefty enough to their liking ... many of the participants are like me, playing just to have been in the series ... some just think of themselves as card sharps, but haven't spent the time to look a little deeper at the game.
it does make me wonder about one other event -- there are a couple of $1k entry n/l hold 'em events in the middle of july, in-and-around the "big event." for me, that's a different event ... something i'm better at and have true dark horse possibilities ... i've never done well in a multi-table tournament of size, but i'm better in live-action than i am online and i've become a pretty damn good tournament player online.something to think about for me, for sure.
but i have wounds to lick between now and then.
"he's got the heart of a tiger, the mathematical ability of a
super-computer, and the disposition of the pillsbury doughboy."
-- b1 describing karpov
... you need a laser-guided, bolt-action, potato rifle.
the lowest level of professional baseball in the united states ...
played in a venue so small that the majority of foul balls are hit out
of the stadium ... there's no such thing as a sure out ... and inning
breaks include such things as "bash for cash" (breaking headlights out
of an advertising van) and a bagel toss ... if you don't like baseball, you'd love the s.j. giants.
"usually when you combine two ideas, you get the worst of both. it's like a house-boat. it's a and bad house and a bad boat. now how much would you pay?"
-- jim "cap'n happy" reekes
as kids my brother, *for years*, would give my mom a plain white plate as a gift for any occasion. a plain. white. plate.
oddly, no one in our family ever asked him what the deal was, so i took it upon myself to ask the obvious-but-unspoken question, "why a white plate?"
the answer i got back was of such a high level of clarity -- especially coming from his at-the-time-10-year-old-mind that you can't help but be amazed. (Even more so by the fact that he types about 10wpm, this answer must've taken a day for him to do.)
it's safe to say that our house wasn't "normal," but i won't have to tell you that after reading this ...
Date: Mon, 5 Sep 2005 01:51:01 -0400
Here's the deal- as i remember it. It was mother's day I believe, and we asked mom what she wanted. She said she wanted a "white plate" to serve food on. A platter. When I asked what the what should be on the plate -she said nothing- she wanted something that would go with all of her dishes she had already. And then it dawned on me- she wanted a WHITE PLATE. Perfectly round. Perfectly white. Sort of a zen plate. I understood the perfection of it. It would match every dish. It would match every food. It would be perfect. It would be white. It was the perfect gift for any occasion.
So we went to the store. To my dismay, white plates are hard to find. I mean, they had white plates with a gold ring around the outside- or black ring- or silver ring. But those were all corruptions of the white plate. Perversions. They could clash with the silverware. They could clash with the food. They were not perfectly white. They were white with trim. Why would you ornament a perfect white plate? So we went to more stores. There were lots of white plates to be had, but you had to be careful... some were off white. But this was revealed when you sat them side by side. The true white plate glowed with whiteness when sat next to an off white plate. the off white plate look corrupted... tainted. But still there was that daunting trim. Then at last we found the holy grail. A perfectly white plate. No trim. No off- whiteness. I was thrilled. They handed it to me. Yes.... this was THE white plate. My dad examined it and was disturbed
to discover that it was plastic! But I was unshaken. It was perfectly white ... perfectly round... Mom had specified nothing about raw materials: this was definitely THE plate. So dad shelled out the $3 begrudgingly, and home we went.
We gave mom her presents, and I watched with pride as she examined the white plate. she was pleased, but also a little puzzled. Puzzled by the plastic... I suspected. Hmmm. Maybe there was more to this white plate thing than I had imagined. But what did raw material have to do with it? So everyone started talking about the plate, and the quest for the plate. At some point Mom allowed that trim on the plate was allowed.
What? Oh NO!- Mom doesn't understand - without trim- the plate matches EVERYTHING. With trim it may not. All white is best... she just doesn't understand. So then, now and then, my mom would serve dinner's main coarse on the white plate. I would look at the effect. My fears were allayed. It WAS the perfect match for every food. But my Mom and Dad were right about the plastic. Plastic wasn't good. It wasn't that it upset the perfection of the plate, it was that it distracted people away from the perfection of the plate. Next year it would be different. It would be China. Then people wouldn't be worried about the raw material. They would think a china plate... a perfectly white china plate... a perfectly round , white plate, that matches the food so perfectly. They wouldn't get bogged down in the raw materials. They would just understand.
But future years were not so kind. You see, you can't find a china plate with NO trim or NO embossing around the rim. They had one or the other. So I would settle on some kind of trim...it
would be ok- Mom said trim was ok. But in my heart, I was not satisfied. I would look at the plates on the table, and they never looked as good as the ORIGINAL white plate. So after several years of searching for the perfect white china plate, I moved on to other things. Eventually I became interested in crystal balls... perfectly round... perfectly clear.
But that is another story.
"all people have a little bit of stalker in them ... it's just a question of how much."
-- j. scott harlan
trivium: the spanish explorers planted ice plants on every shore they hit as a future source of vitamin c to prevent scurvy.
"popularity is the new branding."
-- bryan "bo3b" johnson
while sitting poolside at the mirage in las vegas
anonymously passed to me in email over a decade ago as part of a series on spam (the lunchmeat, not the email badness).
cube of cold pinkness
yellow specks of porcine fat
please hand me a spork