A Virtual Back Rub

Don’t sweat the petty (fixed!) stuff, pet the sweaty stuff.

No, Wyatt you can’t watch Cars for the third time today until after dinner.

Yes, you still need to finish your chicken nuggets before you can play.

Yes honey, please take a couple intakes of air, I was going take out the trash but unfortunately I had to save that Hmong refugee family from the burning building before emptying the kitchen wastebasket.

No problem sir, please mull over the McDonald’s menu for another five minutes while I hold an irate toddler in my arms, especially since they recently added the McRib back into the ring. Don’t worry about the brass knuckles I’m currently pulling out of my pocket, you won’t feel a thing.

There’s a reason why spas and vacation spots make ungodly amounts of money, not in the range of Japanese baseball pitchers, but enough for a few extra flavor shots in their lattes at Starbucks. Most people put undue stress on their lives by blowing things up larger then they seem. That poster boy for a Budweiser commercial in the slightly rusted Ford F-150 and Calvin decal pissing on the word “work” cutting you off didn’t do it because of your horrible singing of “Hollaback Girl”. He probably was late for quarter wings and taps happy hour, or didn’t want to miss the dance off between A.C. Slater and Emmitt Smith. And after you pulled a Jeff Gordon-like draft and clip sending his truck into a side spin and subsequent rollover crash worthy of a NASCAR highlight film, you might want to consider why you did it.

Road rage is just an example of people flipping into the Bobby Knight zone of anger. Is missing a lay-up or a pick really worth the embarrassment of slapping a kid like a woman might if a guy took a little too long to stare at the new push up bra she purchased at Fredrick’s of Hollywood? Long live the General.

Pokerpeaker asked how I could be calm after losing a couple of hands on Monday that represented a decent chunk of my meager bankroll?

First, I admitted the mistakes were mine. If you can’t accept the fact that you are the one who hit the bet/raise/fold button or made the movement to declare your actions at the table, stop playing. You accept the fate of whatever pixelized or Copag cards come down once you announce your action. Or in Felicia-speak “blame yourself for being an idiot”.

Someone not in one of the hands that I got stacked on decided to rant about invisible dealer behind the virtual box for “setting me up” and the person who won the hand defended his play. This went on for a few minutes until finally I calmly said “I would have pushed with his hand too, I played my hand incorrectly” (which I did in hindsight, since I had top set of aces but I left myself open to all redraws since he mostly likely had a locked low). Surprisingly this shut down the tin foil beret kid and he went back to complaining about his own cards, eventually stacking off with two pair vs. a set with re-draws and earning a spot on my buddy list.

Another mistake was playing that high, as my bankroll can’t handle sustained swings at the $200 PLO8 level right now. But, if I’m not playing at a level that gives me a little excitement and I feel comfortable with the skill level, what’s the point of playing? That’s one I’ll have to chew on since playing a level too low (relatively) will cause me to play too loose and spew chips like Mike Matusow on a river bluff. Playing too high brings the unsustainable swings (not the pussy poker factor that I experienced at the FTOPS, tournament poker is a different story for me); I just don’t like seeing 25% of my bankroll lost due to bad play or an unfortunate final board.

So, how do I stay calm?

I do yell at the computer (as seen in Pauly’s suite at the Plaza during the WPBT event). But that usually last as long as a 13 year old boy discovering the wonders of an issue of Playboy for the first time. I don’t mull over the lost of chips, I reload and continue to play while replaying the hand in my head to see where/if I screwed up. If I feel steamed, I get up for a drink or sit out a few hands to watch Billy Blanks try to sell me his brand spankin new, digitally remastered version of Tae-Bo now on DVD!

You don’t need a lifelong affliction of hearing lost or bad head injury like me to become immune to any small breaking ball that life throws at you. To attain this level of not sweating small things like a bad river cards in poker, just remind yourself why you play. If it’s not fun or serious enough for you that night after the significant other and kids are in bed, go tidy up your favorite porn listings or sit down write something inane on your blog just because you can. Doing the things you want versus doing the things you “have to” is very refreshing to those with schedules, deadlines, and/or are responsible for others.

Even if it’s as small as sitting alone on your deck to watch the stars for a few minutes with cold Belgian ale.

Okay that’s enough introspection for a few months.

Thanks for dropping by, now score one for the good guys as Pauly’s message to Absolute was heard loud and clear.

And Lazarus shall come back from the grave, despite the post of the year by a drunken hippy.