Crawling along

Hello Wednesday.  That used to be hump day.  But that was when everyone I associated with worked M-F.  See…that’s the best part of life, when you move on to a new chapter or new place, your reality changes to match what’s going on at the present time.

I contemplate reality at times, digging through all the layers to see what is reality in my view.  I try not to dig too deep into ‘cold, hard’ reality.  Pain, tension, and stress seem to dwell there — none of which I need in my life. Aging is bad enough (yes…screw all of you that think there really are ‘golden years’ waiting out there for you) and the physical body’s breaking down with it is a reality we all have to face if we live long enough.  Reality would best be contemplated over multiple glasses of wine for with the proper number, the aging factor seems to drift off into a corner that isn’t disturbed as long as the wine is in effect. Naw…haven’t even had a glass of wine today but there’s still time.  Last week there were three different occasions that I had a glass of wine (long, long time since the days of the water glasses of wine spurred my writing flame) but I may get back into the swing.


The home front.  My little buddy Riot has been with me for five weeks this Friday.  His summer vacation is all happening out here in the desert.  I go into Vegas on Friday for a Dr.’s appointment and he’s going with me long enough to visit Momparental and hopefully see Dadparental for a few hours (not together, that would/could possibly create a massive explosion in the city) and then he’s coming back out with me. I’m not even sure when school starts in Vegas – it starts in early August out here in the sticks.

We have been walking the desert very early AM and it’s still darkish when we start, flashlight in hand, down the street to the edge of the desert.  Yesterday I caught the glimpse of movement on the pavement from the light beam, it was a scorpion, tail up over its back, running down the road.  Go Figure!  Yah, he kept running, we didn’t disturb his exercise plan.

My winter squash, canteloupe, and, watermelon vines have gone bonkers.  I have about 25 winter squash put away, about 10 canteloupe that are still vine ripening, and a couple of watermelons doing the same thing.  It’s been a strange year, relatively cool compared to most summers but with a shitload of wind howling in from all directions.

I finally called the po-leese on the tards that live behind me a few nights ago.  They’ve done everything to be as discourteous and cause problems in this small quiet section of the desert as they could.  I’m not sure they could think of all of these things on their own which leaves me wondering if they found a helpful ‘Be a nuisance and danger to everyone in your neighborhood guide for Dummies’ somewhere. They had a ground fire going and were feeding it debris, trash, and junk that was lying on their property and had blown onto my fence (my fence is a few inches onto my property so their scrappy crap is technically on my property).  The wind had blown all day and was just starting to die down.  It was after 6 PM.  In order to burn on your property — out here — you have to A. Have a burn permit, B. Call in to the burn desk and report that you will be burning, C. Have the fire out by 4 PM.

I’ve had it with them, it’s been two years of UGH!  I had to run in for groceries but while I was gone, the cops showed, the fire department showed, and someone in a Hazmat suit even came out to their place.  The gestapo raked around the fire, sprayed water more than once, and then left.  Usually the person gets a warning or a ticket.  I didn’t bother finding out what happened, I just want them to stop putting my property and house in jeopardy when they are going to put on their “I’m a total idiot” hat and parade around like nothing they do has to be questioned or is a problem.

Keep in mind that they also parked a 70 foot trailer parallel to my fence (about 15 feet from it) that had a big FREE on the side of it.  No shit?  Yah…then they started digging some kind of hole and drained something from the trailer into it…like an RV dump.  Four of us in this section called the county, all of our wells are on the back of the property and the septic tanks and drain fields are on the front. The county forced them to shovel lime all over everything around the hole and trench and fill it, then shovel more lime.  But that’s only a small sliver of what a nuisance and threat these people are.  So…I feel totally justified in calling the gestapo.


The poker side of life.  I’m having a few issues on a couple of things, one is Phil Ivey, the other is Daniel Colman.

Ivey is the most highly regarded poker player in the world yet he feels that it’s OK to use edge sorting at Borgata and Crockfords to gain an advantage over the casino and book million dollar wins. This, to me, is such a horrible image for him and for poker.  If it’s OK to cheat the house (because they should have been aware) what else is it OK to do?  Where do you stop bending the rules to suit your cause? I HAD a lot more respect for Ivey before all of this news surfaced but now I think he’s just another money grabbing jerk that will bend the rules and continue to do so as long as there are no consequences.  BOO, Phil Ivey BOO!

Colman just won The Big One for One Drop and refused to give an interview to the media or even have his picture taken.  Winning the event doesn’t bother me.  Not giving an interview or picture taking session doesn’t really bother me either.  What does bother me is his attitude.  He makes a living – or has – from playing poker, likes the excitement of the game, blah, blah, blah, but all he wants to expound on is the dark side of the game.

Every game has a dark side.  There will always be a lot more losers than there are winners.

If Colman wants to save the world from the dark side of poker, I, for one, feel he’s going about it incorrectly. While he’s running through a tournament one has to wonder if he feels remorse for each player he busts, perhaps he could start a home therapy group for budding poker players to tell them all about the vile, wickedness of the game, and every time he busts one, give them his personal “Call me for Help” card and then explain at a later date that he’s not returning their money but they sure were stooopid to go up against him in a card game.

I like the idea of him winning the $15M first-place prize and sitting out on the steps of the Rio with a baskets of $100 bills, wearing street person garb, telling everyone going in that he wanted to explain the dark side of poker and they were all losers and if they continued down the sordid path they had chosen, they might end up like him…winning and hating it.

Why not go do something else with your life Daniel? Leave those of us that enjoy the game and still believe we have a shot winning alone.


Catch up with you later…

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