Poster cred: Filmaffinty.com
This morning I got my Bizet on. While in a car that was purchased right after the missus and I decided to become a couple ten years ago, it is now the possession of my parent's since three months after bringing home the now defunct Black Daewoo Laganza my life took a heavy turn into the ditch.
The radio stations were not set to the usual Mike and Mike in the morning, or the local rock station for some Zeppelin to bide the time between home and the Bullseye. So, I let the car get covered in sweeping notes with an opera singer in the background and reflected a bit while avoiding the black ice that the latest snow fall covered up. Thanks to a handed-down mini van that's transmission may or may not determine if our savings account will get a bump from the federal government after taxes are done next month, I'll be riding in this reminder of a life prior to migraines and dark corners which left me shackled for weeks at a time with Jigsaw's Saw-like efficiency.
Most who read here already know the happy ending, or beginning depending on the point-of-view one would take as blogging, and poker blogging in particular have given this man-child another shot at becoming the person that was tested for "talent" back in the days of Cedar Island elementary. Two years ago there were tears shed as I climbed back into the driver's seat of a car. Not needing a ride to the airport to go to Philly for quiet, somber time with AlCantHang and the bar olympics. Actually it was the opposite of silent, and defined everything that rocks about the people I've met thru this little haven. Guinness Pot Pie, gunshot riddled walls, "skillets", good booze, better conversation, amazing people.
Then last year more facial raindrops came as I heard that annoying car beep if you leave the blinker on too long for the time after getting the hearing aids. The crackle of your egg frying up in the Bertoli Extra Virgin Olive Oil, the misprounced words of a three year old sounding more endearing, and Joe Buck droning on about how football players SHOULD conduct themselves rather than focus on the play and the reason millions of Americans watch the sport (think Aikman will ever just turn to him and say "Shut the fuck UP"?)
I'd pay good money for that and throw in a basket of freshly baked oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.
This year after watching a good friend lose his job and taking a good look around myself and deciding that I need a little more challenge I'll be shooting to don another cardboard hat and tassle sometime in the way off future. It a scary place like the crawl space under the stairs with a suspect light and possible dark elves waiting there to kidnap you to be sacrified in front of the Spider Queen so they may stay in favor of Lloth. While I hope to avoid such a dreadful death, living without a complete college degree is one that I can't no longer justify. Right now the uncertainty of where to even start such a side road is making me skittish, but since my 2-year A.S. degree is about as good as (insert poker analogy here, cmon you WANTED IT!) there's a need to see myself with a thousand watt smile sometime in 2013 or so with a ticket to a better job.
Returning to the classroom will not have the immaturity of playing Aces, Euchre, or Cribbage in the student union instead of learning about the marketing techniques of adult toy companies. Actually talk about slinging dildos and fleshlights sounds interesting as you can't slap a billboard up in Times Square about the mouth, anal, vagina 3-in-1 attachment deal going on right now without having the moral police coming the next day to knock down your displays of Sasha Grey life-like dolls to put you out-of-business.
No, there will be focus on the kids. There will be focus on learning proper sentence structure and maybe a few creative writing courses will be needed to spice up these pages and when I get the tap for tournament reporting (especially the big tourneys like SCOOP and WCOOP at PokerStarsBlog, and possibly the WSOP). But, honestly its for those two little ones at home and a wife that I love that pushes me to try a little harder and not become complacent with being happy now and instead look at giving our family the best chance to stay this way.
Not a bad thought train for a 10 minute drive. Now I just need to buy the ticket and get on.