Helen Keller (1880-1968)
A little sappy quote, but one that rings true in my life.
At a lost for words at the moment as offers to help me pay off the hearing aids come in. Including some huge help from a
If you've lived a full life, then there's to be a point which you've looked in the mirror and said "fuck it, I'm done with this, it's not worth trying anymore". Of course you may use softer language or jumble the words up a bit, but the decision to fight versus flight doesn't come easy. I've had more then a few of these forks in the road in my life as everyone does. If one were to map out those life roads for myself, they would be paved with hairpin turns overlooking several thousand feet in the air. Yes, I've come that close to not imposing these words on you fine folks today.
It took me a long time to realize just how lucky I am to have a caring wife, two healthy children, and a sturdy backbone network of family and friends who are willing to help at the sound of a phone call or even a blog post. After finally waking up to take notice of my surroundings, there came a need long overdue.
To better myself.
The first step is getting these hearing aids, or at least trying them out to see if there's a worth to them. By law there's a 30 or 45 day trail period in which the audiologist and myself can check to see if the aid will pump in more luscious metaphorific sayings into my head to put down on this daily journal from watching TV/movies or finally hearing entire conversations. Or if they don't work, I ship back your donations and go back to reading lips with a smile. No harm, no foul, just to use a worn out saying "playing the hand dealt". Just like my looks won't get me on the cover of GQ or Maxim for that matter as I'd have to update my bikini wax for that gig, my hearing will always factor into advancing at the office.
Truthfully, do you want a supervisor or analyist that makes you repeat half your presentation or excuse as to why you couldn't come to work today?
Thus the glory of the internets (and a good friend putting trust into someone who can't keep his damn phone charged to get an important text, sorry about that Otis) gave me a chance to do something with my love for poker, writing about it, and make some decent cash. There's no missed joke or snide remark after the river card gave the surly Swede his two-outer to best the 19 year old balla originally from Cow Town, Wyoming now living in a decked out Key West house with five other online poker savants that 24 table SnGs and cash games and buy six figure cars with their frequent players points. All the hand information and chat is laid out in its pixelized glory on my Toshiba 15" laptop. Without these games on the web, I wouldn't have that little selfish something extra to look forward to. Something outside the 9 to 5, the family, the cube, the commute.
It may seem silly to some that I put such stock into a part-time job like this, and I know there will be a time in the future that the work may no longer be there, but for me doing things like the weekend reporting at PokerStarsBlog, and hauling my sorry ass into the audiologist is helping to break the rust off my life that had collected far too long. Maybe I'll find out that there's some talent deep within the horrible metaphors and punny sentences spewed out here and during the tourney recaps and that might get me on a plane to exotic Mongolia for the possible new Russian Poker Tour stop in 2012.
For now, as Crash Davis once imposed his wisdom on the Porsche driving Nuke LaLoosh "We gotta play it one day at a time." And that's my intent from here on out.