Memories are made from the unusual, and formed from events within. Being blessed with an understanding wife and friends from the across the different climates, I’ve picked up some memories (fuzzy perhaps) that will be folklore for my own mind later in life while sitting on a porch with a beer in hand and looking out at the ninth hole that has a slight dogleg to the left and bunkers protecting the cloverleaf shaped green.
It amazes me how people with such different backgrounds and lives can gather for 48-72 hours and produce memories that will stick for me as I put my daddy polo shirt back on and resume working within the confined walls of security. Starting out with Chadarama along I-94 heading towards picking up StB in the rat trap maze of detours in downtown Milwaukee, there was mass construction and rain that only delayed my first shouts of PAI GOW! The Potawatomi casino lies in the heart of Milwaukee and gave the first memories of the weekend. A straight-shooting Midwest waitress with several years on her telling me to take the nipple off my last Miller Lite of the night before she takes it away while hitting up the $3/$6 table started the weekend off right.
Poker was reason why this blog was given life and live poker didn’t disappoint with distinct personalities around the table which is why I still love to play this game. The calling station old guy, who had to ask with a voice box tone and assistant to Dr. Frankenstein looks if the action was on him with every street, needed to have the board to read to him if he didn’t have the nuts. The playa with $600 in whites and sideways straight brimmed hat, who proclaimed he was playing for 24 hours straight (this of course prompted me to ask for $1,000 in checks, but I fought the urge to whip out my swinging dick). The aggressive Asian who’s perfectly aligned 40 chip towers were built for superiority and didn’t appreciate half-awake half-deaf poker bloggers calling him down while he showed second pair and losing to a slightly higher pair. The gregarious suit on my left that had a different story for everything, including being a world-class athlete back in 1973 that possibly nailed every upper-crust lady that floated in from the piers of Lake Minnetonka towards the shoreline restaurant he worked at.
After a few hours of puttering around with cards it was time to crash for the evening and gear up for the bulk of the weekend in the Windy City…. (to be continued)
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