Looking Back

I know that all of you just love my poker/life postings, but today will be a deviation. Today, the room will get sort of dusty and my allergies will act up, as I talk about finally moving away from the place that I've called home for a while: TFS. A little under 4 years ago, I was getting ready to move in. As of 8am on August 8th, I need to have everything out. And actually, it'll be on August 2nd that I'll have everything cleaned up, since I actually fly out to NY for my cousin's wedding on the 3rd.

While it's amazing the amount of stuff that I've accumulated over the years, what's even more amazing are the memories that have been stored up in this apartment, both good and bad. I wouldn't trade anything in the world for all of those memories, the memories of the people that have crashed on the couch, the people that we would cram in here for Illini football and basketball, the people that I've fed in my kitchen, the people who have let me down, the people that have drank beers on the balcony while we grilled, the people that have been over here drafting for fantasy football, the people who I've let down, the people with whom I've prayed and hoped with, the people that have been over here for poker night, the people that I've been angry with, and the people that I've loved. You know who you are.

I've been going around, taking down pictures, putting away apartment mascots, and just slowly getting myself ready for the next stage of life. I've been getting better at making transitions. Moving out to NY from Cincy was a little on the slow side, but it worked out great. The school experience was a little slow, but again, it went well. I hit the ground running when I did my co-op stint in Louisville. And I had a lot of momentum when I came back to school after that. For the last couple years, I haven't been honest with myself. I haven't really seen it as a true transition until very recently.

And really, I haven't embraced the freedom that a life transition lets you have. You get to sort of reinvent the wheel. You get to remake yourself so that you can get a little closer to where you want to be. In all honesty, anytime we stay still for too long, the environment sort of expects you to remain the way that you are. If you change drastically, you end up skirting the expectations that people have for you, possibly alienating people and leaving yourself open to bad situations. But when you're facing a transition, none of the outside pressures are there.
So what will change for me? I'm not sure. But I get to have some time to figure it out. If the 27th birthday wasn't enough of a sign to me, then having to move out of the place that I've called home for 4 years certainly is.

-Chairman

Happy Birthday To Me

Well, about 4 and a half hours ago, anyway. Yep. 27. Somehow, God's let me survive for another year. We'll just chalk it up to a temporary bout of indifference up in Heaven. And you know what? I'll take it. It's another chance do something right for once. We'll see how I use this year.

We went out to Jim Gould's for dinner with some friends (GQ and Becca, JP, Yoder, CJ, Meitl, and Darren), and then had some drinks afterwards at KO Fusion, as Laura and Fetz joined us. Okay. That was a lie. We had more than a few (but not quite a butt-load) of drinks.

The food at Gould's was excellent - there will be a lunch and dinner write-up for the place over at my foodgeek site. Most amusing thing about dinner? Watching people try raw oysters for the first time. They weren't the greatest oysters (some shell bits flaked off into the oyster when they were opened), but they were fresh and they were tasty. We ordered a small order so that everyone would get to try one. A couple of people liked them, some people were indifferent, and some of the folks hated them. Probably an accurate sample for general populace. But overall, it was fun to try different dishes and have everyone pass food around. I don't get to do that enough.

As for the drinking afterwards, it really wasn't bad. Just a round of sake bombs followed by 2 bottles of cold sake out at KO Fusion. They were big half liter bottles, and CJ and I took the lion's share of the sake, but it was just sake. All told, I figure that it was about the same as having 4 drinks, but it was a fun buzz since it was so gradual. Afterwards, me and CJ caught up with some of his friends from work and had a couple more beers. A nice horseshoe sandwich at Merry Ann's capped off the night.

It was a good time. No complaints about the company (in fact, it was very nice to hang with a big crew for a while), and the food/drink was all good. I do get to ponder my mortality, where my life is going, and all the rest that is associated with a birthday after a so-so year (which really has been the case for the last 4 birthdays). I get to ponder the prospects for a 27 year old who hasn't been in love, can count the number of relationships that have lasted over one month with one hand... check that... with his nostrils (that's 2, on me at least, for the anatomically challenged readers). I get to ponder my dwindling number of friends as I remain in good ol' Champaign-Urbana, while everyone else around moves on to different (not necessarily greener) pastures. I get to ponder my body which is falling apart, which was at it's peak over 4 years ago when I was a strong 230, could grab the rim with one hand, best most people off the dribble, and could play shut down D on the perimeter. And I get to ponder where my path diverged with God's intended path and how I get it back.

There is much to ponder. But I have a whole year to do it.

-Chairman

Conflicting Rules

Man. I't s 2:56 in the afternoon and I just got done waking up. Insomnia really sucks. It's been a few weeks now - just on and off sleeping. The worst part is that just when I think that I'm getting over it (like 3 or 4 days in a row of good sleep), it just strikes back. Annoying. Of course, I've got this bottle of sleeping pills that was prescribed for me that I still haven't taken because I don't want to be dependent on them. Instead, I'm just not sleeping, wandering around on the internet, and making random comments on random people's blogs.

On the bright side, while I couldn't sleep, I decided to jump online and play some poker. I was able to flip $30 into $190 in about an hour and a half at the .50/1 tables. Normally, this violates my rule of, "never play poker when you're tired," but this was superceded by the rule of, "stretch yourself when you're playing good." I've been on a roll of late at the poker table, so I figured that I'd be okay.

Of course, this begs the question of when your tiredness overwhelms the hot streak that you're on. Which is really the point of the post today.

So, I'm playing great. I get lucky once and take my stack from 60 to 100, and then I'm just dominating, going from 100 to 225 over the stretch of about 30 minutes. At this point, I find myself getting really tired. And that's when I realize that it was about time to stop. But only, I decided to play one more hand. I pulled a medium pocket pair, but 2 people called my raise. Instead of just laying it down after a bad flop, I get cute and try to steal the pot. Long story short, I end up losing 35 on the last hand, and I finally quit and go to bed.

Why does this matter? Well, keeping with the life and poker theme, I think that you rarely have the "perfect" situation where everything is aligned. If you wait for that (Mikey, you need to be listening right now), you'll never see an acceptable chance to make a move. This doesn't suggest that we're supposed to be reckless and dive headfirst into shallow waters, or anything. I think that how you should live is by seeing the positives and negatives clearly and then moving forward appropriately.
And once we've tasted success, there's a fine balance between getting the most of your situation and hanging around a little too long. We'll have situation where we're on top of the world. I think that it's crucial that we figure out when that's going to change and then to stop aside gracefully, rather than get knocked off our perch. Some of the falls are just minor stumbles. But others can be straight off of a cliff.

My poker story was just a minor stumble. At that point I was on a freeroll. Normally, when I'm up at a table, I would never leave. I mean, if I'm up big, that probably means that I'm better than the players there. But I was so tired that I knew that I shouldn't have lost that big pot. I should have only lost 5, instead of 35. That was my signal that I was off of my perch. I've had previous experiences where I kept on playing, with an arrogant attitude of, "I can't believe that scrub took that pot from me... I'm going to get my money back and more..." That usually doesn't work too well. I had to convince myself that I was headed for the cliff. It was time to go to bed.

-Chairman

Good Old TV

Just a quickie... have you guys seen the previews for that penguin movie (March of the Penguins, I think)? The first time I saw it, I honestly thought that it was a Geico commercial. The 2nd time (after I realized that it was a real movie), I was just thinking about how cool it would be if it really was a Geico commercial. Now I'm just resigned that it isn't.

Oh well. Maybe the first season of Tiny House will be good...

-Chairman

Poker and Life

I've got a little quote running through my head that I came up with. I'm not sure if anyone else has coined it, but it goes like this:

"I want to live life the way that I play poker and I want to play poker the way that I live life."

There's something about bad beats. In poker, a bad beat is when you completely outplay someone, only to have a very unlikely card show up after all the money is on the table. For example, if you have a pair of aces and your opponent has a pair of kings with one card left to draw, you're an overwhelming favorite. At most, your opponent will have two "outs," or cards that they can beat you with (the two remaining kings). In Texas Hold'em, that means that you each have 2 cards, and there are 4 community cards on the board. That leaves 44 cards unknown, of which 2 cards can beat you. That means that 21 out of 22 times, or about 95% of the time, you win. But there's always that 5% shot that your opponent gets you.

Now most people hate bad beats. I tend to think of them as the result of playing cards the right way. If you're suffering the most bad beats at the table, that means that you're probably playing the best poker. Now there are certain situations that some would consider to be a bad beat, but really aren't. Basically, anytime that you get all your money in with the best hand, and then lose, then that's a bad beat. But if you get your money in with the the worst hand that was at one point the best hand, then it wasn't a bad beat, but you just got greedy trying to slow play. Let's say that you already have a pair of aces, and your opponent has a pair of kings, and instead of getting all your money in, you just check (don't bet) and see another card. If that card is one that your opponent beats you on, and you then bet heavily and lose, then you just got greedy and unlucky. That's not a bad beat.

So what does this have to do with life? I think that poker will parallel life. If you're doing things right, then you'll have some bad beats. That's just how things work. If you're getting your money into the pot 100 times with the best hand, it's inevitable, that about 5 of those times, you'll come up short. That's just natural (or at least statistical) law working it self out. But that also means that you'll be doing better in the long run. When I play poker, I will make a read, and live with the results. If I'm right, then I've got a real good shot to win some money. But there's always the chance of taking a bad beat. The key here is that you keep going all in with the best hand, regardless of the outcome. That's the sign of being a good poker player. I think that I'm a good poker player. I want to live life that way, too.

I think that my life hasn't been quite as fearless. I think that I took a couple bad beats and now I've gotten gun shy. I don't take as many shots at winning as I used to. I've become okay with just taking small victories and minimizing my losses. I think that this needs to come to a stop. But it's hard to get back to doing the things the right way after you let yourself get complacent. For me, it's a series of small battles. Doing the little things the right way will eventually get me back to doing the big things the right way, and back to living a full and exciting life.

Of course, I need to wary of not categorizing poor results as bad beats when they are just a result of me misplaying the hand. There's a really common attribution of poor results on the circumstances around you, when really, it's because you just botched it. That's what I need to be careful of. When you're playing cards, the only way that you improve is by being aware of your shortcomings and addressing them. Life is the same way. You can't just blame "the world" for your problems all the time. I think that happens a small percentage of the time for real (like the 5% bad beats that will happen), but there are also many times where you need to just admit that you made a mistake and really learn from it. I think that I do this well in life, but I think that I become a little too proud at the poker table. Long story short:"I want to live life the way that I play poker and I want to play poker the way that I live life."

So, here's to knowing the difference between a bad beat and a mistake, as well as to the good moves that lead the bad beats.

-Chairman

It's a Process

Let's see first thing to new readers, check out my food blog (http://kitchenchairman.blogspot.com). It's a collection of restaurants reviews and musings about what's going on in my kitchen. We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

Damn skippy.

I love how whenever you discover (or re-discover) something that you can do, you just brighten up like a little kid. It's like the first time you listen to really powerful prose or music. You just smile like a toddler discovering snow.

I went for my walk/jog again tonight. And it felt good. Still able to go about 250 yards before I felt anything close to a misstep or a lot of stability. I'm sure that a lot of it is just psychological, too. But today, it was my leg muscles (the muscle between the bulge of the calf and the ankle, actually) that got sore , rather than my just joints giving out. It's still a little pathetic, but when you're carrying this much mass along by just shuffling along (and only using those muscles), they get sore. That was the progression that I was expecting.

Where I was happily surprised was when I decided that I wanted to see if I could run/sprint. So I tried a little 30 or 35 yard stretch, and I ran it strong and pain free. I was able to get a little bit of that explosion back from the quads that I didn't get any from just jogging. It felt good, so I tried it again. Only this time, I looked for about a 75 yard stretch or so. And it worked. Felt great to go (relatively) fast for a little stretch. As I was walking back to the apartment, I was just smiling from ear to ear. I really didn't think that I was going to be able to sprint pain free.

I think that the legs will get strong faster than I originally thought. At least the running muscles. I'm still afraid of the knee joint. I know that when I extend for the last 10 degrees, it hurts right on the tendon. I tried to do a little kickboarding at the pool, and it actually hurt to just kick throught the water, mainly it was because the only motion through the knee was the last 10 degrees, and kicking through water is a little more resistance than I was used to. I'm not sure about the jumping or the lateral motion, yet. And another big thing is stopping and changing direction. We'll see about all that tomorrow at basketball.

Anyway, it's time to get cleaned up.

-Chairman

Soft 17's

Brief clarification for those of you who just drop in and/or don't have long-term memories...

Hitting on a soft 17. What it doesn't mean: that I'm a cradle robber. Of course, it doesn't mean that I'm not, either. For the moment, I'll spare you the thesis on why it's advantageous to date younger girls that may or may not be legal, depending on the state that you reside in.

What hitting on a soft 17 does mean: not settling for mediocrity. In blackjack, 17 is a mediocre hand. Basically, you're betting that the dealer will go bust. Sometimes, you're stuck there. A ten and a seven doesn't leave you with a lot of options. But, if you have an ace (which can be played as a 1 or 11), and a six, then all of a sudden, you can take another shot at getting a good hand. So the rule of always hitting on a soft 17 means that you go for it, you don't settle for mediocrity, and you take advantage of the opportunities that come up.

That and you hang out at high school sporting events to find dates.

Not that I would ever do anything like that. Especially when it's summer and school is out. And the IMPE pool is open.

Hopefully the next posting that I make won't require a phone call from the authorities...

-Chairman

Running in the Slow Lane

Wow. So I still suck. But I sucked less today. I tried the walking/jogging thing again tonight. I was able to jump it up to about 200 yards of running before the joints kicked in. Happily, the lungs can still handle the 200 yards Took a similar route as last time and actually got to add on an extra 200 yards or so before my 30 minutes elapsed. The eventual goal is still to be able to jog 2.5 miles in 30 minutes eventually. It's modest, but hey. Compared to where I'm at now, it would be quite the achievement.

What's interesting is that my knees aren't really sore after running. There are a couple points when I run where the legs aren't very stable, and that has to do with the knees. But it's not like how I feel after playing ball. I'm thinking that it's the jumping, landing, starting, stopping, and changing direction that kills me. So, the jog isn't really bad. I'm optimistic that I can build up strength in the legs and get things back. Watch out world.

On a completely unrelated (well, sort of related) note, I've had some interesting thoughts in the spiritual realm of late. I'm amazed at how much more forgiving God is than I am. I'm amazed at how easy it is to get a clean slate in God's eyes. I'm not nearly so forgiving. And this is especially true for things regarding myself.

I'm getting back into pursuing the spiritual disciplines: reading, prayer and meditation, solitude, and even fasting. I've found how unbalanced my has become of late. My academic interests had taken the forefront. I had left behind a lot of the physical intensity and the spiritual intensity that had been so characteristic of who I was. It's time to get that back. It's time to own my shit and to hit on those soft 17's. And all of you get a front row seat Don't thank me all at once.

-Chairman

That Which Does Not Kill Me...

...tends to just piss me off.

Here's something that's interesting. As much as I hate the idea (and the actual act of) running, it's time to get back into it. Or at least some combination of jogging and walking. Well, alright. Walking and then jogging a few steps every so often.

Basically, I've never been much of a distance runner. At my prime, I'd be pleased with myself if I ran 2.5 miles without stopping to punch someone and/or get a lung transplant. Now, with bad knees, running for more than 100 yards is a chore. Literally. Tonight I went for a walk/jog for the first time in a couple years. Probably went a total of 1.5 miles. Maybe ran for like 7 stretches of 100 yards, which is about how far I go now before the knees start barking at me.

Regardless, it's time. Here are the ground rules. 5 days a week. 30 minute sessions. Run until the legs/lungs/joints need rest. The keep walking. Once the legs/lungs/joints feel better, start running. No stopping. No worries about distance for now. I need to get the heart, legs, and lungs going again. Eventually, I'll be back to jogging my 2.5 miles in 30 minutes. Hopefully, that will also strengthen the legs and knees.

I need to cook more, I need to start jogging, and I need to lift 4 times a week. Otherwise, I'll probably die a premature death of natural causes. Which totally isn't sexy. It's one thing to die in a drive-by shooting. It's another to die because your cholesterol is 750 and your heart explodes. If I die tragically in a drive-by shooting at 30, I'll live with it. If I die of a heart attack at 30 there will be hell to pay. I'm going back to the cooking that I used to do back when I lived with Matt and when we both cared about what we ate. Basically, I'm just making the call right now. If I'm not kicking ass and taking names by the time it gets cold, I'll cut out red meat for 30 days and go South Beach. I hate the idea, but something needs to give.

I'm just sick of being crappy on the courts and not being able to do the things that I was able to do 2 years ago. This was one of my New Year's resolutions. I'm just a little late in getting around to implementing it. Crap. If friggin' Jared Fogel can do it, then damn skippy if I can't.

-Chairman.

Our Lives in Quotes

Thinking back a couple weekends at Christian's wedding, there were a couple quotes that just popping up over and over again. I'll give you one of the quotes, and then try to explain:

"That would be the perfect time to scratch yourself."

At the rehearsal, we were just complete idiots pretty much laughing at everything. The little room that we were going to be in before we walked out had these bongo drums in there, so I was just banging away like a moron. This was definitely a sign of things to come. At one point, after the pastor told us about how we needed to not lock out legs so that we'd keep from passing out, Mikey and I threatened to flex every muscle of our body and hold our breaths until we pased out. Of course, a couple minutes later, Curran (who was an usher and didn't hear our exchange) walks up and offers $5 to us if we pass out at the wedding. After a few minutes, there was a part of the ceremony where we were going to have our backs to the crowd (words on the screen for a worship song). Mikey goes, "This would be the perfect time to scratch yourself." Without missing a beat, I start scratching my ass and say, "Good call, baby." Our friend Ryan leans over and whispers, "I think he meant the other side."

"It's incredible that we're still single!"

I think that weekend was really a prime example of TFS at its finest. Basically, me, Mikey, and Curran were on our A games, if the game was how to not impress women. I think that the best example of this was at the rehearsal dinner. The area that we were in had like 6 tables of 8. When we got there, there was a table full of Kelly's friends, and a table full of family. So, we sit down at the table next to Kelly's friends, who promptly start to ignore us (which was legit, considering our show at the rehearsal earlier). Eventually, more people come, and there had to be a little re-arranging done with the seating. First, we all get moved to the table in the middle with Kelly, Christian, and the immediate family, before they realized that we weren't really fit to be placed at the "grown-up" table, especially next to the grandmothers. For heaven's sake, there's probably even money that we cause a heart attack. Then more immediate family comes and they found a good reason to have us moved again. Long story short, they had filled up all of the other tables, except for our table, the one in the far corner. Once again, me, Mikey and Curran are off in the corner by ourselves. And deservedly so. You sort of want to keep us away from older folks or small children.

"And we haven't even been drinking!"

The next day before the wedding, we were trying to figure out how to do our gifts (checks). We remembered our little fiasco back at Jessica's wedding in January. Basically, at that wedding, we were trying to decide on how much to give, so we didn't have our checks written out. Mikey was firm on basing the payout on whether or not there was open bar, so after we discovered that the beer would flow like water, we started writing out the checks and signing the card. Only we discovered that we didn't have the envelope. So Mikey goes back to the car to look for it. All he could come up with is the envelope to my invitation which I had in the car. He promptly scratches out my name from the envelope and writes in, "To Jess and Justin." Yep. Classy. That's us. Of course, Nick was off chatting with friends, so we hunted him down, and asked him to write the check. He tells us that he'll write it in a second. Mikey doesn't hear that, and instead thought that Nick told him to just write it out for him. Naturally, Mikey just goes back, writes out the check for Nick and signs it. We stuff everything into the envelope, reseal it (thank God we didn't have to tape it back shut) and drop it off with the gifts.

So, we decide to pull a similar stunt at Christian's wedding. None of us had gotten a card yet, but at the rehearsal, Christian had given us these little thank you cards along with our gifts. So what do we do? We decide that these cards were good enough. We start scratching out the various pronouns that Christian had wrote about us and replaced them with pronouns that would be about him and inserting random comments throughout the note. Of course, Christian walks in as Mikey's working on his card and asks, "Are you scratching out my card?" "Uh. Yeah?"

Wow. As we start to laugh hysterically, explaining what we were doing, all he could do was roll his eyes, shake his head, and leave. Of course, we couldn't just leave it alone with the card. I had my entire checkbook with me, so I started writing out checks for random amounts and putting them into the envelope with my doctored card. I think that I wrote out 6 checks for a total of $83.68, each with something random on the memo line like "Kelly is hot." All this while being completely sober.

It's a wonder that Christian hasn't called any of us since the honeymoon.

-Chairman