Searching for a New Car, Part 3

If there's one phrase that describes the first couple of weeks of 2008 for me, it's 'monkey tilt'. From this pain-in-the-ass search for a car to Internet and technical snafus that have made work a little bit less joyous than normal, it's been a tilty stretch.

Somehow, for what's it worth, I'm actually up a little bit for the year in the little bit of poker that I've played, though it should probably be much better than it is. When I get tilty and on edge my 'A' game goes away, I'm just a little too accepting of coin-toss situations and tend to get my chips in less good than normal. If there's a second theme to my early-year poker annoyance, it's having to deal with a couple of the modern-day poker snobs who only know how to play a NL cash game, and yet each always thinks he knows everything there is to play poker.

I was at my private game the other night listening to a couple of these so-called mixed-games experts argue over what alphabet acronym they should play. Some of them wouldn't play Omaha, but liked stud, and others were adamant that NL and Omaha were the -only- games that could be included. Razz was almost universally reviled, except by me and one other. And my offer to teach and deal some Chinese poker fell on deaf ears.

Pikers. Neophytes. Guess what they ended up playing? Me, I cashed out after a couple hours after doubling up early with the nut straight and a draw to the nut flush in an Omaha-8 hand with no possible low, dodging what I figured was a draw to a boat but turned out to be nothing but a lesser straight. (This was at a second table where we snuck in a few laps of NL/Omaha, with most of the others refusing to play even that.) For me, it was soon 1 am and I still had work to do by 2 am, such being the state of recent chaos.

But back to the car thing. I needed to buy something, and I knew I'd need to do so soon, after being pulled over one late night with my license-plate illuminator not working, due to the electrical problems in the rear end. Those of you familiar with late-night car patrols would recognize that America's fine officers use any such mechanical pretense to pull over a car to see if its operator is under the influence. I got off with the usual mechanical warning/non-ticket. But it was yet another reminder that the Saab's days were/are numbered.

I'd been looking at a couple of cheapie cars in particular, from Hyundai and Toyota. Hyundai crossed itself off the list due to an asshole dealership, so I finally returned to Pauly Toyota for a fourth time, and --- gasp! --- they had the Blue Yaris hatchback ready to drive. I took the thing out for a short buzz, running up its odometer from '2' to '10', and then went back to talk with my best friend in the world about the situation. We agreed that it was indeed time for me to get a different car, because the Saab had left me stranded on the highway twice in recent months and is just increasingly expensive to repair.

So on Friday, I transferred just enough money into the checking account to do the deal for the best numbers I'd been quoted, and headed back to Pauly to buy the thing. I wasn't thrilled with their salesmanship, and in an interesting segue the initial salesperson, who hadn't bothered to tell me about my rebate (or give me the best price), still tried to wheedle his way onto the official bill of sale as one of the two salesmen involved. That is until I told him to get his name off my title application or the deal was off, which I figured was fair payback for the guy snorting at me when I told him why I wouldn't deal with him any more. Maybe it was a good-cop-bad-cop ploy on their part, but I don't give a damn --- my senses told me the numbers weren't going any lower than what I got. They can also do whatever deals they want to behind the scenes, as long as they don't slap me in the face with it.

That little matter aside, it took about two hours to get the paperwork done and get an insurance card for the car faxed to the dealership. Here's what the new HaleyMobile looks like:



Yes, I'm going to water it in hopes it grows bigger, although it's still a half step up from that Tata Motors offering. Still, I got it with a decent interior package --- power windows and doors and such and even a plug-in for an MP3 player. It'll get me around and it is intended to just sip gas, which is what I want. I will bet that the price of gas hits $4/gallon before it again (if ever) goes back to $2.50... and $5-6/gallon is a very real possibility.

Buyer's remorse? I dunno. I do know that all my liquidity has disappeared for the short term. Still, the need for dependable transportation is never going to go away, and I think this vehicle will do the job just fine. Now I have two tasks at hand, other than the normal grind: Read lots of car manuals... and get off monkey tilt.

Searching for a New Car, Part 2

"I love me some Hyundai." --- John 'Schecky' Caldwell

Yeah, where was I in the last post? Hunting for new transportation, that's where. With my Saab having numerous mechanical problems and a March date with the emissions-testing center looming, I'd decided that the future was now in terms of me and a newer means of transport. I checked with Jo and Meg, who are really my family in this area, and heard reports of a decent dealership out on Randall Road in Algonquin, IL, several miles from where I live. The place was a new Hyundai dealership under the Rosen dealer name, with "Rosen" having several other dealerships in the area and known for flooding the Chicago market with cheesy commercials where they sing "Rosen, Rosen, Rosen" to the tune of "Rawhide."

By the way, major rants contained herein. Be afraid. Be very, very, afraid.

The stop didn't go that well. The salesman who greeted me didn't seem much interested in what I was saying, although this was still while I was still focused on a half-decent used car, and not a new one. I walked pretty quick, just as I did from nearly two dozen other dealerships in the following days, even though I did begin my refocus onto a possible new car when the lack of decent used ones at the right price became apparent.

A few dealers tried hard to sell me, while other didn't. Used-car places in general showed more interest in selling me, because I was driving a bomber to begin with and I tend to dress pretty raggy at times; working at home has its effects, y'know. But I figure my money should spend the same anywhere, right?

Not so at the side-by-side Spring Hill Ford and Piemonte Chevrolet dealerships in East Dundee, where I spent a combined five minutes. I couldn't even get waited on in the Ford place and when I asked the same simple question three straight times in the Chevy place and the sales guy would not answer me, I walked there, too. No loss; after a couple of days of shopping, it's plainly obvious why U.S. automakers are getting their asses collectively kicked.

After a couple days of frustration, I made a concerted effort at finding out what the best foreign ecomony cars were in my price range: cheap. That's when John expressed his like for Hyundais and a couple of other brands were recommended to me as well. I tried to do this while doing the normal work load of course, including plenty of Aussie Millions-related work, and several people pointed out that I didn't seem to be around Skype as much as normal.

Meanwhile I was considering going postal on several car salesmen. My final judgment is that they pretty much all suck eggs. Some were mediocre and some were really, really sleazy, at least in terms of how I rate 'em.

I went to another mostly new-car place called Pauly Toyota Scion, just a few miles up the road, and gave a serious look to the Yaris, the bottom-end car. After a long talk, I told the guy I wanted a specific set of very basic options and told him to give me a serious price, because I wasn't in the mood to mess around and planned on shopping elsewhere, too. The guy still wouldn't name a specific price, but hemmed and hawed around and finally gave me a rough figure on what I could pay if I wanted to pay cash and drive it away. I wasn't much impressed with the pitch, but I hadn't totally given up on the Toyota.

I checked out a VW Rabbit, a couple of different Nissans, and two or three others. Based on John's fondness for Hyundais, and my trust in John's judgment (because it's pretty good), I tried to take a really close look at a Hyundai Accent, but ran into a sales dude named Jasper who left a big negative mark on me; so bad, in fact, that I crossed the Hyundai off my list.

It was back at the Rosen, Rosen, Rosen place, and I asked the guy to quote me a very basic car virtually scripted right out of the sales brochure --- a hatchback Accent with a stick shift and a nominally powered interior. The sales brochure said it was an available combination, and Jasper said, "Sure, no problem, what color do you want?" and after I gave him three choices he did that "I have to go talk to the sales manager" thing where they disappear for a while and come back with a price.



Good ol' Jasper came back with a really, really good price. He got me happy, he did, and I was already pretty sure I was gonna like myself some Hyundai. And he tried to talk me into this option and that option and the next option and asked me if I was sure I wouldn't like something else, and why didn't I take this car for a test drive. And I kept parrying him off because he was trying to upsell me and I already knew what I wanted. After 45 minutes, he stunned me, saying, "Oh, by the way, the hatchback doesn't come in a standard transmission with a power interior."

"What? It says so right in the book!"

"Yeah, but it doesn't come that way. That's what our sales manager says."

Well, screw the sales manager AND this dude for keeping me there for almost an hour after giving me what now seemed to be a great quote for an imaginary car... in other words, great pricing numbers that they never had any intent of living up to while they tried to bait-and-switch me to some other car on the lot.

Fuck that. As the levels of BS became more apparent, I told Jasper I was gonna check things out at another Hyundai dealership. He quickly told me that the nearest Hyundai dealership was in Rockford, another 40 miles off in the direction opposite where I live.

"There's not even one in Schaumburg?" I asked. Golf Road in Schaumburg is probably the biggest collection of car dealerships in the entire western Chicago suburbs.

"Oh, yeah, well maybe, there might be one there." Lying sack of shit. Worse, when I checked, I found that there was another Hyundai dealership in Elgin, only about 12 miles away and almost as close to my place as this dealership. You're a sleazy goddamn liar, Jasper, and fuck Rosen forever. You cost Hyundai a likely sale, too.

I was on poker tilt for two days after that. I don't deal with slimy salespeople well, I guess. But it wasn't like good 'ol Jasper was the only one.

I'd went back to Pauly Motors to give the Toyota Yaris another look. Fortunately, the first salesman wasn't there,and the second guy I talked to went in back to get me a quote after a short talk, and came back a full $800 lower, including a $500 rebate that the first guy never bothered to tell me about, likely in hopes of pocketing it himself. But Pauly salesguy #2 confirmed that the options I wanted did actually exist as a real-life car, and lo and behold, there was even one in the color I wanted sitting out back, fresh off the hauler.

I said I'd likely be back to give it a drive. I came back the next day, almost 24 hours later, and they still hadn't even taken the shipping paper off the top of the car or pulled the styrofoam blocks out from beneath the wheels.

Lord. Dear car dealerships: If you had someone express interest in a specific car, would you at least make some effort to do the 30 minutes of work to check that car in during business hours the following day, so it could be taken for a test drive?

The answer apparently, is no. So I left Pauly Motors in frustration, and filled out an online quote for a Yaris instead. That one was forwarded to East Elgin Toyota, a fraction of a mile closer to my place and, coincidentally, only a block or two from the Hyundai place my buddy Jasper from Rosen didn't want me to know about.

I got a call from East Elgin Toyota a few hours later, from a sales officer named Julie who insisted that they had exactly the car I had requested a quote for on the lot, and it was available for a drive immediately. I knew Jo had the day off so I asked for a ride down there, half figuring I'd buy it on the spot if I likedit.

Julie 'assigned' me to a young sales guy named Dana, who was way aggressive and if categorized on the poker scale would fall squarely under 'Tool'. They showed me my car.

It was fire-engine red. I'd asked for a quote on a blue one.

I took it for a test drive anyway, just to see how the stick handled and how the interior seemed. The dealer joined us on the test drive and allowed us to drive around one oversized block, a distant of about a mile and a half. When we got back, he reached into his desk, pulled out a paper, and tried to get me to sign a blank red sheet confirming my offer on the car, without even showing me any numbers. When I told him I wasn't signing anything without seeing some numbers, he gave me a dirty look and then came back with a "best" offer nearly $400 higher than Pauly's numbers for the same car. And thrust the offer sheet back under my noise.

Get lost, Dana.

As we departed, this overslick middle-aged executive sales guy rushed over, trying to save what he saw as a blown sale. This guy had carefully Brylcreem-ed hair and oozed smoothness. He didn't save the sale.

Boy, was I tilted from dealing with these slimeballs. I took two full days off from the car search.

Next time, Part 3 of all this joyousness.

Searching for a New Car, Part 1

[Poker content: A little, down a bit.]

No, no, no, I haven't died quite yet. Truth is, I've had time for not as much poker the past few days since I've spent at least portions of five recent days searching for a new car. My current transportation, a '96 Saab 9000 CSE, has been an okay car but is reaching that stage of its existence where it's getting silly expensive to repair, and Saabs are by their very nature very, very expensive on the parts side.

By way of explanation, not long after buying this as a hand-me-down from my sister and her husband, one of the rear outside door handles broke. On this model, it's a known weak spot in the design. The car part alone was $247. The same handle broke again a few months later. I still haven't fixed it.

But there are lots of things wrong with the car, now, from a recently cracked windshield --- thanks, gravel-truck pebble and cold snap in the weather! --- to problems with the rear-end electrical system and the computer chip that runs the car's electronics, and that latter might have to be fixed before the car would face a mandatory emissions test in March. Another of the door handles is broken on the inside, the special inset lights to illuminate the rear license plate are either burned out or plagued by the electrical demons (and I got pulled over for that a week ago), the front-end headlight-washer blades are snapped off and dangling, and when I insert the key in the ignition there's this brief, odd, mechanical winding-down noise that I have yet to figure out. Oh, yeah, the right-front brake caliper is rusty and needs to be be replaced, too.

The car has 237,000 miles on it. You'd have issues, too. But on old Saabs, all the issues tend to be expensive ones, and I've reached the point of not caring.

So while this was a very decked-out older car --- its first owner, I later learned, was former Detroit Lions QB Scott Mitchell --- it's time to go to the other end of the spectrum, for something newer and (out of necessity) a lot more basic.

Enter the car jaunt. At first I planned to spend $6,000 or $7,000 or $8,000 on a small used car, but by and large those cars don't seem to exist. There are, however, veritable seas of 12-MPG SUVs on the market. Living alone as I do, I tend to value gas mileage, and that is something that remains a primary focus. After about eight used car lots I resigned myself to the fact that I may as well start looking at inexpensive new cars, too, if just to take advantage of the new-car warranty and all that other stuff.

There's a lot more to the search, including having to deal with some sleazoid car salesmen. I'll save those entertaining hijinks for the next post.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, on to poker. A brief bit of history: When I first started playing on teh Interwebs, I tended to play limit cash games --- some Hold'em, some stud games, maybe a little bit of Omaha on occasion. I'd play the occasional tournament and I'd all right in those, and in the last year, year and a half, I've unconsciously slid over to playing tons of SNGs and MTTs and very little in the way of limit cash games. I've experimented with NL games and found it's an area where I need to improve... and I'm working on that.

But old-fashioned limit? A couple of years ago, I used to content myself with playing tight ABC poker and grinding out unimpressive win rates, augmented by signup and reload bonuses. I didn't get rich at it. The style, though, that I used back then, doesn't seem to be how I play today; recent weeks' experience at a handful of limit tables has taught me that. Several thousand NL donkaments have changed my game into something where I'm far more aggressive at a limit table and willing to put other people to the test far more often. I might be three-betting something I wouldn't even play before, especially at a short-handed table, which is something I also didn't do much of in my earlier existence. Then again, I might not play certain hands at all, too.

In a nutshell, I used to stay in a comfortable shell and save a lot of bets. I don't seem to be that way any more, nor do I care if someone rocks me for a couple of bets in a given hand because I usually figure I'll get it back with interest later. Am I still controlled by the math? On a lot of hands, definitely so --- I'm chasing my draws when I've got the right numbers and I'll almost always get away from underpairs in a multi-way pot. But the difference is earlier in the hand, before the odds properly dictate the play: I'm far more often trying to dictate to my opponents how the hand itself is going to be played out, from blatant late-position steals and sneaking into hands with crap, to just firing back at people with air when I suspect them of the same.

Yes, the variance is much higher, and the single bets don't matter or hurt as much as they used to. And as I'm sneaking into higher limit levels on occasion, too, this new, slightly looser but far more aggressive game seems also much more effective. At the least, I've posted a few decent sessions of late.

* * * * *

Back to the car tales. But not 'til next time.

Delivering a New Year's Morning Headache

Wait, it's New Year's Eve here, and I'm writing a New Year's Day tale? Ahh, the joys of international online poker. It's the $900 Guaranteed ($10+1 w/ rebuy) donkfest on the Merge Network, said tourney which I took down the day previous. (And still finished loser on the day, after taking a couple of high-dollar shots.)

So I'm back in the thing on a whim, and the player to my left, a UK chap, is wishing everyone a Happy New Year as it just turned to 2008 in England. And in the first five minutes, he gets stacked by a bad player and makes his rebuy and tries again. Meanwhile I chip up a couple of hundred.

A few hands later, I find the marvelous 7-2 off in UTG +1. Blinds are 10-20. UTG limps. I say, "What the hell," and make it 90 to go. UK chap on my left smooth-calls, and we pick up two more callers on the way around.

Flop comes 2-2-7, with two spades. UTG checks, I check... it's checked around. Rats.

Turn comes the ace of spades, putting the possible flush on the board. UTG checks again so I make a post-oak bet of 20 to see who's interested. UK chap on my left makes it 100, and it's folded back around to me. Spade flush, I hope?

I min-reraise to 180, and sure enough, he pushes. He shows K-10 of spades, which is totally dead to my HammerBoat. A 'ffs' curse appears in the chat window and he is gone.

That poor guy's New Year just got off to one ugly start, poker-wise. I'm guessing his hangover's already started.

The Poker Weekender

Excepting token appearances at Bodog and Stars the last week, the only hours I've spent pursuing the online game recently have been over at Merge, chasing points in their darned Santa's Sack promotion; I've already secured my $50 checkmark and am moving toward better prizes... an iPod is next in my sights. Here's weird: Buying an iPod would be way down on my list of things to do, but trying to win one has me entertained and incentivized. Darned competitive nature, anyway.

And of course, it means sneaking in a few tournaments and sit-'n'-goes late at night or as time allows. I had been worried I'd grind down my bankroll on the site by chasing points for the promotion, which would've been counterproductive to the whole process, but back-to-back good showings in MTTs on Friday and Saturday nights boosted me enough to where that's no longer likely to be an issue.

After grinding out a second place in the Friday night $32.50-entry, $2.5K tourney, I followed that up by taking a shot at the $10+1 rebuy donkament early Saturday eve. It was more on a whim, since I rarely play rebuys, but I was already in two SNGs and was killing some time before heading out to a live game.

I never made the game, and did one of those donkament sins that I've pulled my hair out when I've seen it pulled off by others. Yes --- this is a confession.

With the SNGs complete, I was still alive in the rebuy, but needed to get ready in the next few minutes if I was going to go play live. There was also a good snowstorm here so I was still a bit undecided that way, too; it was blowing and drifting quite a bit, with about five inches of fresh stuff on the ground.

I decided... to let the poker gods decide. Next time I found a halfway decent starting hand and caught a bit of a flop, I check-raised to get myself all in. I sucked out and won. Hrmmm. Then I doubled through again, playing A-J all in preflop absolutely for the hell of it and cracking the chip leader's pocket queens. (What he called me shall not be repeated here. I deserved it, too.) But all of a sudden, despite more or less trying trying to depart, I was the chip leader. I still wasn't totally sure I wanted to stay, and I then gave a chunk right back to the player I deposed, who then taunted me into saying he knew I'd do so.

Heck, it was miserable outside. "Game on," I chatted back, or something similar. Three hours later I took the thing down, and as I said, I rarely play rebuys. I'm not sure what kismet was working there, but I was certainly intended --- and yes, that's phrased correctly --- to play that online tourney and not play live instead.

* * * * * * * * * *

As for the Secret Santa SNGs on the site, which I've also been playing, those have been interesting as well. Merge (Carbon and pokercs.com) ran a Turkey Day promotion last month which focused solely on SNGs, but this month the SNGs have been incorporated into the larger Santa promotion. In November, all SNG's featured half-priced juice, with players accumulating points toward leaderboard spots, but I did not have the time to chase the top 100 spots on the site and move on.

This month the twist is that, at random, a given SNG will open up with a special table design for the 'Secret Santa' promotion, and pay out double the listed prize money. Playing in one and winning one are both tasks in the Santa's Sack scavenger hunt as well, so it definitely draws the traffic. Problem is, they don't show up all that often. Had they been at the same ratio as what the site was offering, juice-wise, for the Turkey Day promotion, I'd have expected a Secret Santa table once every 20 or 30 tries. It seems like it's more like one in every 50 or 60, based on anecdotal evidence. I've found one, to date; I won it, though, which was cool. It was a $10+1 SNG, and when all of a sudden the players discovered they were playing for $20+2 money, it became the weaktightiest SNG you ever did see. Who knows... maybe three or four of the players rarely ventured into the land of $22 SNGs, and therefore squeezed it down here. In any event, no one wanted to do any more than limp in early or attack pots post-flop with anything less than a monster. Therefore, I volunteered to do just that, and swiped enough early pots to coast into the money and take down the eventual $100 win.

Then I had a solid run in the normal $22 SNGs. Good weekend. Along with the MTT fun, a real good weekend.

Sleighing Away at Merge

I noticed another half-correct story over at PokerListings recently, detailing how Carbon Poker has a nice 'scavanger hunt' holiday giveaway spanning the month of December. It's half correct because the Poker.com (actually pokercs.com now) folks are doing one too, and for all I know PokerNordica is doing one as well. PokerNordica is another skin on the Merge network, run by the same folks... and no, I haven't checked if more than the two skins noted above are involved.

As I've mentioned before, I've always been fond of the network, for numerous reasons. They also seem to be running special promotions on a monthly basis, of late; these are participatory in nature, meaning that because I'm spending so much time working elsewhere I don't have a snowball's chance in hell of earning the higher prizes, though I can still have fun with it. At the outermost possible extreme, I might get to the iPod level, though a $50 cash reward is much more likely.

Still, I'd have to pick up the pace --- I'm barely a sixth of the way to the iPod and the month's a third over. Perhaps I'll have some time at the holidays to make a late run at it; perhaps not. Still, it's a unique promotion with a bit of seasonal fun attached, and there's little harm in trying.

Second Loser

If the actual bubble in the HPT sat I tried would be 'first loser,' then I finished a second loser. 80 runners, 16 $2,700 seats, and I went out in 18th. In other words... poop.

I was fortunate to stay in it earlier, and never could get to any point where I had an above-average chip stack. At the end it became a total crapshoot due to wild blinds and antes, and when we were at 20 players, I would have finally had enough chips to coast if only my A-J sooted held up against an even shorter player's 8-7, also sooted. My luck, good 'til then, ran out. Flop came 8-7-3. Mind that I had an M of about 3 before the hand, to give you an idea of the situation.

The last few chips went away soon after, when, all but blinded out, I had to play any two from the small blind and had 9-5, and the big blind turned over... 9-4. A four flopped, and bye-bye me. No chance for better odds in the few intervening hands, either, as people made pre-flop stabs and I caught rags.

As I promised, I gave it a hell of a fight. I played very tight for the most part, pushed the couple of big hands I found hard, and got myself into a position where I could have won a seat. Early on I had a few chances to put a hurt on people with a friendly flop and never connected. It just didn't happen. One hand shy, y'know?

And... Off!

But not to the fun in Lost Wages, sadly. While I would love to be there, it just couldn't work right now. Falstaff's declaration that I'm wussing out aside (lol), it's just been a pretty rough, busy work stretch in recent weeks. It's been a dawn-to-dusk ride for quite a few days lately, not that those are exactly the hours I keep....

What I am going to do, in lieu of the long trip, is take a short one. I'm heading over to Majestic Star in Gary, IN tomorrow and will try to satellite in to this weekend's Heartland Poker Tour championship event. I'll know several players there and I also picked up a SooperSekrit backer for a chunk of my buy-in. (Many thanks, SS! I hope to your reward your faith in me!) 20% of tomorrow's entrants move on to the $2,700 ME, so it's a good combination of a buy-in I/we can still manage and a structure that may work okay for me. One thing's for sure: you never know unless you try, anyway.

I'll drop a note in when I return. If it's good news I'll move on to the main. If not, I'll have given it a damn good run and say I tried my best.

Trying the Live Games

Among the things that plagued me as a poker player was not having a readily available live game to me once I left northern Wisconsin, my original home. I went several years without playing a single time live, even if I was able to hone my poker skills in a technical sense while playing online. I have no doubt that my game is much better for having played so much on teh InterWebs, but I still missed sitting at a live table. Just because, you know. Just because.

So it's been a conscious effort on my part the last few months to find "live" poker opportunities, to work on that part of my game. There's the private tourneys up in McHenry that I'm now frequenting, where I can report being ahead in those, but still well behind in the cash games.

I also discovered that there's a floating poker casino of sorts called Rockford Charitable Games that runs all sorts of 'charity' poker events all across the Chicago northwest suburbs. It's a bigger operation than I imagined when I first heard about it: when I decided to spend a recent Sunday afternoon at a Hoffman Estates 'funder,' I was surprised to find something like 23 tables in play. 14 were devoted to a tournament (in which I partook), while the others were held for a various assortment of cash games an SNGs.

Quite the operation it was. Run reasonably smoothly as well, complete with a tourney clock broadcast on a flat-screen TV on the wall, chip runners for rebuys, and of course, the usual assortment of donkeys. No, I have no victorious tales to share, since I went out of the $100 event (with one re-buy and add-on, $50 each), exactly $200 poorer. In about the middle of the pack, perhaps 70th or so.

If I had any concerns at all, I think it would be that it looked like some cards were being marked --- at least I think I saw one ace with a distinctive rub on it, just before the deck was pulled out at a break --- and given that this was being held in the upstairs meeting room of a bowling alley, closed-circuit surveillance isn't likely to happen. I guess it comes with the territory.

I also plan on trying to satellite into the HPT championship being held over at Majestic Star early next month, just because. We'll see how that one goes. It's a step up in stakes from the $10-50 range I normally toy with online, but you just don't find those baby tourneys live. In my way of thinking, it's time to push the envelope a bit, move up in stakes both online and live and see what happens.

Maybe it'll work out, maybe not. But I'm pretty sure I can grind out enough of a profit at lower stakes to warrant taking the occasional shot.

Beats, Brags and Variance

The Beats:

Notice it's been ten days or something like that since my last post? Time flies when you're not having fun. Not only has it been a rugged stretch of work, but I came down with my second bad cold in three months... sure sign that I've been pushing too hard and have been worn out recently. This second cold was bad enough to require a trip to the doc's for bonus drugs, which still haven't knocked the crap out of my system, some ten days after coming down with the bug, whatever it is. I never before have had a cold/flu/whatever bug that announced its onset by completely taking my voice away for 48 hours, but that's what happened with this one.

The prescription medicines, combined, came to almost three times as much as the doctor's fee for my visit. Granted that my doctor gives me a good price, but what the hell?

The Brags:

After several days of being flat on my back, using my few hours of wake time each day to get done whatever work I could, I finally fired up the computer last Thursday for a bit of poker tourney action. It was a whim, really, and if I'd known it would take three hours and 40 minutes to conclude I probably would have thought twice about it, because I didn't feel so hot when it was over.

Anyhow, it worked out well for my $32.50 entry:



I got through work the next day, more or less, and decided to be stupid again. This time I fired up two tourneys, the $32.50 one and a smaller $16.50 that starts a bit later. I crashed out of the $32.50 soon enough, but hung around in the $16.50, until:



Felt a little better on Saturday. Got out for a needed bit of shopping but was pretty fatigued and fell asleep as soon as I returned. Woke up, cold sweats, mild fever, yadda, yadda.... Couldn't sleep, saw that it was time for my favorite tourney to start. Could I do a trifecta of first-place showings? I again tried the $32.50. Nope:



But I paid for my trying to get out on Saturday, and was worse again on Sunday, with fevers and sweats and whatever. No poker for me. Yesterday, though, I figured I'd give the $32.50 one more try:



VARIANCE: Yeah, I tried tonight. Didn't cash. Must be a downswing.

Now if I could only get healthy. That would please me as much as any of this.

So Many Hours, So Little Poker, and Then There's Gary

Rumors of my demise are reasonably exaggerated. It's just been a very, very busy time, with things such as random posts about poker or other things, wedged in during idle moments. I haven't had the chance to play much poker on my own at all lately, with an exception on Wednesday night when I donked out fairly early in the Bodonkey to Smokkee, took a ridiculous runner-runner backdoor flush beat to get bounced from the $20K an hour or so later --- to some idiot all-in with A-8 against my set of aces on an A-4-2 flop, but made a final table on a different site at the same time. Technically it was a plus night even if it didn't feel that way.

Sunday night, though, I snuck out after watching the Packers beat the Chiefs and drove over to Majestic Star in Gary. I'd heard good things about the room and had always wanted to see it for myself, and Sunday I had a span of free hours and just had that urge. Road trip! Despite taking the intentionally slower route through downtown Chicago, because I love the Chicago skyline at night and I'm rarely down there, I still arrived in time for the room's evening tourney, a $80+$20 Heartland Poker Tour league event. I didn't care which-or-whatever about it being part of a league except that it meant an extra $5 in juice (and another $5 chip gratuity), but I was just there for the trip, anyway.

Nope, didn't win. Didn't cash, either, though I hung around to about 21st while the top 14 made the money. Also didn't cash in a $65 SNG, later. But I did enjoy the room, which seems larger than the 20 tables it actually holds, tucked up on Level 3 of the "Majestic Star II" side of the casino. Is that the port or starboard side of the boat, anyway? Since it's away from the rest of the games, too, this feels like a true poker room; there's a snack bar just outside the room itself and the room's windows overlook the scenic Gary waterfront --- which quickly returns one to the business of poker, at that :-/ --- though for a restroom break you've got to run down a level and dash through most of the second-floor slots. As casino restroom inconveniences go that's run-of-the-mill, certainly not on a par with playing later at night at Caesar's and discovering that you're sharing a restroom, and long lines, with packs of post-pubescent teens and maybe-prostitutes trying to crash the scene at Pure.

Well, you don't find -that- in Gary. But the poker here is all good. The staff was competent for the most part and very friendly throughout, good signs for a room that clearly wants to be a dominant player in the Midwest market. It's not the type of room I'd return to every day, but it's certainly one worth the occasional trip.

What I did enjoy was that the room seems to offer a good deal of variety, including at least two reasonably priced tournaments daily. They have a few big tournaments coming up, including a H.O.S.E. event I might try. They don't spread Razz, though, hence H.O.S.E. instead of H.O.R.S.E. ... cowards.

Bodog Bloggeraments Want You

Nadia at Bodog asked me if I could remind all three of you that stop by regularly to consider signing up for the Weekly Bodog Online Poker Blogger Tournament. (Quite a title, that.)

But I don't mind reminding you, particularly since I've been so busy myself the past couple of weeks that I've literally forgotten to log on and join the fun. More's the pity party, at least for me, because there are some seriously schweet overlays here for what is a $10+1 entry fee and what has been, to date, and underattended event. And you can all play 'Guess Hoyazo's Alter Ego' too!

I don't pimp anyone for the sake of pimping, but these are a good value as Bodog seeks to take over a regular niche in the weekly blogger poker offerings.

Here's the info for the tourney:

Tournament Details

* Dates: October 30th through to November 6, 2007
* Tournament Name: “Online Poker Blogger Tournament” at Bodog
* Entry Password: bodogblogger
* Buy-in + fee: $10 + $1
* Starting Chips: 3000 (Double Stack)
* Payout: Standard Bodog payout structure
* Bonuses:

o T$109 bonus paid to the top 5 finishers.
o T$11 bonus paid to the 5 players that are eliminated prior to payouts.

+ These bonuses will be awarded within 24hrs of the tournament completion.
+ T$ = Tournament Credits. These can be used as a buy in to almost all scheduled tournaments at Bodog and have a ratio to cash of 1:1.
+ T$ can also be combined with cash to buy in to tournaments.
* Day of week: Tuesdays
* Start time: 8:35pm ET

Oh, yeah, here's a banner for the event. I think you guys will like it:

And Now, More Selections from "These are a Few of My Favorite Scenes"

Following up that last post, I believe this is the movie moment when his-'n'-hers matching outfits officially died:



Too rich. But I've been reminded of old comedies a lot lately, so here are a couple of other famous scenes, complete, with dialogue, that have bubbled to the top of my brain recently:

Jake: Oh, please, don't kill us. Please, please don't kill us. You know I love you baby. I wouldn't leave ya. It wasn't my fault.

Mystery Woman: You miserable slug! You think you can talk your way out of this? You betrayed me.

Jake: No I didn't. Honest... I ran out of gas. I, I had a flat tire. I didn't have enough money for cab fare. My tux didn't come back from the cleaners. An old friend came in from out of town. Someone stole my car. There was an earthquake. A terrible flood. Locusts. IT WASN'T MY FAULT, I SWEAR TO GOD!!!!



Or this one:

Otter: Point of parliamentary procedure!

Hoover: Don't screw around, they're serious this time!

Otter: Take it easy, I'm pre-law.

Boon: I thought you were pre-med.

Otter: What's the difference?

Otter: Ladies and gentlemen, I'll be brief. The issue here is not whether we broke a few rules, or took a few liberties with our female party guests - we did.

Otter: But you can't hold a whole fraternity responsible for the behavior of a few, sick twisted individuals. For if you do, then shouldn't we blame the whole fraternity system? And if the whole fraternity system is guilty, then isn't this an indictment of our educational institutions in general? I put it to you, Greg - isn't this an indictment of our entire American society? Well, you can do whatever you want to us, but we're not going to sit here and listen to you badmouth the United States of America. Gentlemen!



Clearly, Otter's wardrobe in the movie was ordered out of JC Penney. Until today, I never made that connection.

And Now for Something Completely Hideous

One of my trivia teammates dropped a funny post into my e-box this morning, detailing the joys of a rediscovered 1977 JC Penney catalog. It seems to have been written back on the 29th or so --- its original poster already obscured, though I've been trying to locate it --- and it has rapid picked up a viral life through extensive e-mails and forum-board postings. I'm happy to contribute my part to the world's byte pollution.

Despite the fact that it's not poker-related, it should still generate a hardy laugh. The commentary by the unknown poster is only a snarky notch shy of what the late great Bobby Bracelet woulda offered. And if I don't post this, Iggy will. There, that's a poker tie-in... two, even!

Without further ado, and all commentary below by the unknown poster. I still think it was Bobby; the "junk" reference is a dead giveaway:

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Last weekend I put an exhaust fan in the ceiling for my wife's grandfather. While my wife's brother and I were fitting the fan in between the joists, we found something under the insulation. What we found was this:



A JC Penney catalog from 1977. It's not often blog fodder just falls in my lap, but holy hell this was two solid inches of it, right there for the taking. I thumbed through it quickly and found my next dining room set, which is apparently made by adding upholstery to old barrels:



Also, I am totally getting this for my bathroom:



There's plenty more home furnishings where those came from, however I'm not going to bore you with that. Instead, I'm going to bore you with something else. The clothes.

The clothes are fantastic.

Here's how to get your ass kicked in elementary school:



Just look at that belt. It's like a boob-job for your pants. He probably needed help just to lift it into place. The belt loops have to be three inches long. And way to pull them up to your armpits, grandpa.

Here's how to get your ass kicked in high school:



This kid looks like he's pretending to be David Soul, who is pretending to be a cop who is pretending to be a pimp that everyone knows is really an undercover cop. Who is pretending to be 15.

Here's how to get your ass kicked on the golf course:



This "all purpose jumpsuit" is, according to the description, equally appropriate for playing golf or simply relaxing around the house. Personally, I can't see wearing this unless you happen to be relaxing around your cell in D-block. Even then, the only reason you should put this thing on is because the warden made you, and as a one-piece, it's slightly more effective as a deterrent against ass-rapery.

Here's how to get your ass kicked pretty much anywhere:



If you look at that picture quickly, it looks like Mr. Bob "No-pants" Saget has his hand in the other guy's pocket. In this case, he doesn't, although you can tell just by looking at them that it's happened - or if it hasn't happened it will. Oh yes. It will. As soon as he puts down his matching coffee cup.

Here's how to get your ass kicked at the beach:



He looks like he's reaching for a gun, but you know it's probably just a bottle of suntan lotion in a holster.

How to get your ass kicked in a meeting:



If you wear this suit and don't sell used cars for a living, I believe you can be fined and face serious repercussions, up to and including termination. Or imprisonment, in which case you'd be forced to wear that orange jumpsuit.

How to get your ass kicked on every day up to and including St. Patrick's Day



Dear god in heaven, I don't believe that color exists in nature. There is NO excuse for wearing either of these ensembles unless you're working as a body guard for the Lucky Charms leprechaun.

In this next one, Your Search For VALUE Ends at Penneys.



As does your search for chest hair.

And this -- Seriously. No words.



Oh wait, it turns out that there are words after all. Those words are What The F***. I'm guessing the snap front gives you quick access to the chest hair. The little tie must be the pull tab.

Also, judging by the sheer amount of matching his/hers outfits, I'm guessing that in 1977 it was considered pretty stylish for couples to dress alike. These couples look happy, don't they?





I am especially fond of this one, which I have entitled "Cowboy Chachi Loves You Best."



And nothing showcases your everlasting love more than the commitment of matching bathing suits. That, and a blonde girl with a look on her face that says "I love the way your junk fights against that fabric."



Then, after the lovin', you can relax in your one-piece matching terry cloth jumpsuits:



I could go on, but I'm tired, and my eyes hurt from this trip back in time. I think it's the colors. That said, I will leave you with these tasteful little numbers:



Man, that's sexy.