6-7-06
Good Morning My Love –
This morning I’m a bit of a hurtin’ pup. I actually walked about 7 miles yesterday, to and from J.P., plus the noon walk to the P.O., and my back, hip and legs ache, and my groin’s grumpy. Will do a half-day at work–very slow, no harm done. Was on the heating pad last night and will return today. I actually am better than I thought I’d be, but I’ll minimize my walking at least till Friday.
One reason I took inventory of your presence in my bedroom (by the way, I forgot to include — which I have draped over the gold-flecked mini-bureau — your rag snake we got a zillion years ago, where? At the Brockton Fair? I couldn’t bear to get rid of it) was: while watching an H & G show, I saw someone use one of those fits-all slipcovers and make it look almost professional. How? Little pins, like those plastic-topped bulletinboard push pins, but with a tiny corkscrew instead of a straight pin. Called “twist pins.” As you tuck and fold the slipcover, keeping tucks and folds out of sight, you anchor them onto the chair/sofa with these pins, which are permanent. Wish we’d known about ‘em 3-4 years ago: we could’ve slipcovered that couch. You’d have loved ‘em!
When I prepared to go back to Patrick’s yesterday afternoon and wished Craig was still here so I could catch a ride, I realized it was the first time I’d missed him. And I thought that one of the sources of Craig’s problems was his belief that he was special, superior, because of his smarts, looks and talent. And he remains constantly upset that not only is the world very slow to acknowledge his superiority, but those close to him don’t treat him with the deference and honor he believes he deserves. (People are so strange: alongside this arrogant Craig lives a nice, responsive decent Craig who’s very good company. And under both those Craigs is a hideously insecure Craig that sees betrayal everywhere.)
There was a time I thought like Craig, to some extent. I believed my intelligence made me superior. Source: Jane. Of course I was also the worst person in the world — source: Jane — or why was I getting beaten all the time? But by my mid- to late-teens I was an arrogant prick. The Army, or people I met in it, and my genius for screwing up my life, undermined that arrogance somewhat and you did the rest. I had to learn that intelligence is just a tool, not a value. You could use it for good, like Freddie did, or evil, like Mark Leuken did. Just like a hammer: use it to build a house or smash a skull. Intelligence didn’t make me a good person; I had to earn that.
And in the process I came to respect and admire those who, though less fortunate than I, nevertheless struggled and perservered and made good people of themselves, with good lives. You. Freddie. De., as far as I can tell. These were two of the most important of my life lessons: goodness must be earned, and the struggles of people born (or put) behind the 8-ball must be respected.
For Craig, like some women born beautiful, his gifts are almost a curse. He should devalue them, find the hardest thing he ever accomplished — the thing that did not come easily — determined why it was hard, and be proud of that. Perhaps that’ll help him appreciate more the less gifted.
I’ll also be interested in how, if he has another child, he’ll handle sibling rivalry as a parent. He sure hasn’t handled it well as a sibling.
By the way, I paid Patrick $300, $100 more than I expected. Ouch.
Here’s a little item that puts the lie to the President. He’s been going on about ending our “addiction” to oil. OK, he’s an oil man, but maybe $3+ a gallon has made him see the light. Right? Not! Bank of America, Timberland and at least one other large employer are offering employees $3K if they buy a new gas-saving hybrid car. Great idea — and the government should be offering tax incentives to those who buy hybrids. Right? Not! Tax what you want to discourage, give incentives for what you want to encourage.
Which is why the government will treat that $K as income, and tax it.
I love you–
L.
6-8-06
Good Morning My Best Baby –
Strange on the surface that a woman so strong, so tough would find such warmth and comfort in being my Best Baby. But in Donna Boyce, tough broad and little girl lived side by side, and I’m proud that I helped with that accommodation.
Took half a day yesterday. Work very slow, Larry very sore. More heating pad time, and my back’s not bad today. Left hip sore, everything stiff. Wouldn’t mind being home today either, though I’ll stick it out. More heavy rain yesterday — 6″ in some places — with a gloomy damp day today and another deluge tomorrow. I don’t think the dampness is helping me any. So I won’t help it!
Got two old-friend calls last night, one good, one not. Betts is delighted with her new dog Millie (I asked, “Don’t you have a friend Millie?” “Yes.” “What color is Canine Millie?” “White.” “Call her Millie Vanillie.”) At this point she couldn’t be happier.
Sindy is another story. First, of course, I had to deal with the usual problem when Sindy gets going: keeping track of who’s who. I think if she’s going to make these calls she should email a cast of characters, their backgrounds and relationships. Probably run to ten pages.
OK, let’s see: she had to put down a cat, who was as old as Tai; Andy’s down to 124 lbs, has limited strength, and she expects him to die soon; some relatives (I think) are so strung out on heroin they’re totally neglecting their five kids, the oldest of whom is a budding pyromaniac. She continues not to feel well and may have to undergo a nasal/sinus scraping to see if spores have taken up residence inside her. Two courses of antibiotics have only made her sicker. She’s blue, feeling, overwhelmed, lacking in support. The five kinds’ situation really hurts because calling in the State may prove just as bad. I asked her to call this weekend. Not much I can do for her. Suggested she check with her church for leads other than the State for the five kids.
And of course she’s money-strapped.
Was able to gt the draft of “The Fever Dream” typed into the computer; I now have a hard copy to edit. Have no sense of its merits.
Was thinking of the expression “false pretenses.” Wondering if I’d ever encountered a true pretense. Perhaps, like Diogenes, I should carry a lantern and search the world for an honest pretense. And if I find one, celebrate with a dinner of jumbo shrimp.
Well, I got my paycheck, and the raise gives me, in hand, $42. more a week. A bit disappointing. So I need another job.
6-9-06
Good Afternoon My Love –
Hip sore. Will just have to baby the thing this weekend and hope it forgives me by Tuesday.
Not much to tell you. Lisa may have narrowed her plethora of swains to 2 or 3. It must be nearing the time when she’ll be under pressure from swain, and her own sense of these things, to consummate. That’s a real danger point, if things go poorly.
We shall see…
I’ve been keeping track of which poker table I play at, how I do there, and how much I win or lose in a day. Tables “France 7″ and “France 9″ like me most right now; I lose on France 3 & 6. Won over 50K so far this week. Rare, so far, that I lose in a day — only once in 12 days so far. Couple of days have been breakeven: winnings under 1K.
This record/stats-keeping is a mild sign of obsession for me. Have done this kind of thing since I was about 12 or 13 and invented a baseball game I could play in my room. (I told you about it: pieces of paper with plays — single, fly out, strike out, home run et al — on them. Put ‘em in a plastic storage container, shake ‘em up — the sound would drive Jane crazy — and play ball. I made four teams out of friends and acquaintances, formed a league and kept all the stats. Played that game for hours at a time.) And I’ve noticed that when I get obsessed by anything game-like, I end up keeping records over which I slave, then when the obsession wanes I feel foolish and dump the stats.
Poker fits this obsession very well, because there are so many stats you can keep. I’ve already studied how often getting a suited pair leads to a win in Texas Hold ‘Em — damn few — and how often you win when you flop two pair (about 2/3 of the time). Now I’m analyzing table success. Obsession. But I’m not worried. I’m still doing the ADLs I’m supposed to, and poker is a fine distraction and boredome-beater. And I still hope I can get onto a money table some day.
My game still has deficiencies. I still have a blind spot for flushes, though I’m a bit better. But I should never miss a possible flush draw on the board, and I still do. Get wrapped up in pairs, forget to check suits. I still fold too often. I’ve improved that by seeing 10- and 20-chip preflop bets, as well as cheap bets deeper into the hand, unless I’m sure I can’t win. That’s helped me catch the occasional set or two pair, hands I’d previously watch come in after I’ve folded.
I’ve also learned that any pocket pair is strong if you’re against only one player, and is OK against two, though you must be cautious. I’m becomming more committed to the idea of trying to win a hand at the point I feel I’m ahead in it, rather than always slow-playing. Better to win fewer chips than to let an opponent luck out on the turn or river, and take the pot away from me. I do need to bet more early when the pot size is small and my hand is strong. I also need to recognize an agressive table and check more when my hand is strong, let overagressive players trap themselves.
I’m bluffing a bit more. The best way is with few bettors, raise pre-flop, then if the flop isn’t an obvious no-bluff (3 of a suit, 3 in a row, 3 of a kind etc.) and no one shows great strength, bet the pot after thde flop and again at the turn. Checks and calls will tell you if you can continue; if your opponent raises, on Fun Money tables, you probably should fold. That’s OK, though, because giving your opponents the idea you might bluff may well cause them to call when you do have the nuts. I’m less good at seeing a bluff opportunity at the hand’s end when, obviously, no one has much — typical when hold cards are big and the board is small. Or there’s a pair on the board and no one’s indicated a set. You can bluff a pot with a strong river bet, sometimes. I’m just worried about being called inappropriately, on Fun Money tables, when a loss means less.
I get tricked by pairs another way, too. Let’s say I have K-2, and the flop is K-2-5. I bet the pot, and someone calls quickly, or raises. So I put them on a K, but my two pair puts me in good shape. Then the turn and river comes 8-5. Thos two 5s have negated my 2s. So my winner probably isn’t any more. I often forget that, and variations of the same scenario. I’m also prone to being pushed out of hands when I have, say, second-high pair and my opponents are on draws. If they bet heavily I tend to fold, then watch to discover I’ve thrown away the winning hand. Not sure what I can do about that, other than reading my opposition better, not always possible when you’re not face to face.
I do, however, have to focus more on what my opponents are doing. I still have the same basic strategy:
–Is the hand worth playing?
–If so, do I want to raise pre-flop? (I rarely do, but Big Slick or QQ, KK, or AA, I sometimes try annoying 10-chip raises, and if someone bites I might do a pot bet or go all in — the latter if I have 1000 chips or less.)
–If my hole cards are marginal (I’ll need help from the board to win the hand) and someone raises heavily, do I stay or fold? Here it helps if I have some reads on my opponents. Some players bet heavily on anything, and if I have sufficient chips I might call.
But basically I’m still trying to decide if my hand is good enough to pay to see another card. “Cheap” is what I’m after. My worst dilemmas are: 4 of a suit after the flop; open-ended straight draws; inside straight draws; 2nd- and 3rd-high pairs; high pair with low kickers. I have a tendency to bet the flush draw if I can afford to, because when they come in — about 1/3 to 2/5 of the time — they can be very lucrative. I’m warier about open-ended. You can hit and still, often, lose. The the lower pairs — I stay with them as long as I can afford to, usually to the turn. Give both low pairs and inside straights one card to improve. With low kickers I need to see how others are betting, to guess if someone else has my high card. After that I improvise, accentuating caution.
But by then, what my opponents are doing are more of a factor. Their betting patterns can help me decide to stay or not. (Also, how the cards have been running. 2 or more aces in the previous hand make it less likely that the board will give me an ace, no matter what some math geeks say.) I’ve improved slightly in my reads, but don’t make it enough of a priority. You know the way I play: tv on, sometimes doing small chores, sometimes eating or talking on the phone. Makes it hard to concentrate on anything but my own hand.
See? 3+ pages on playing poker. Totally tedious. Obsessed.
Baby, they opened a Home Depot in the Chelsea mall on Rte. 16. You’d have been ecstatic. I’d have been driven to distraction. Had it opened in 2004 or earlier, you’d have been able to get there on your scooter, and god knows what you would’ve brought home. I know it sounds mean, but I’m glad it took this long. You’d have made me nuts.
6-10-06
Good Morning Beloved –
Lord, what a crashing bore I was yesterday. And I could go on a lot more about poker and its nuances. Sorry!
I did talk to you quite a bit last night. Mainly about the one-way communication we’re indulging in at present. Except for the pocket 5s/full house incident, I haven’t noted anything that could be construed as coming from you. And you know that I’m a sceptic about beyond-the-grave communication. If it happens at all, I suspect it can be done only through someone like John Edwards, the medium. But I spent years underestimating you, believing you couldn’t do something and having you prove me wrong. And if anyone — anyone! — has the strength and the will to break through the great barrier between the dead and the living, it’s you.
So I told you to take your time. Maybe you need to help Freddie settle in. Perhaps you’re waiting for the rain to stop (if it ever does!) and the butterflies to come. Baby, I’m not going to go for something really iffy. The pocket 5s/full house is really iffy, since I play a great many poker hands and — like the mythic monkeys randomly pounding at typewriters that eventually produce Shakespeare. The odds of that 55/FH hand coming are less than a straight flush, and I’ve had several of those.
But I haven’t closed my mind to the possibility of you communicating in some fashion. So if a butterfly lands on me — especially if it’s a monarch — I’ll definitely respond. And if it takes you a year — or two — or however long, I’ll be here, and waiting for you.
Sciatic’s still a problem. Got through my errands and my session with Janet OK, but when I sit a while I hurt a lot. You know how it is. Tomorrow I may walk a bit, and definitely will get a chamois and eraser for art class, and will apply for work at the Barnes & Noble on Rte. 1. Caught a bit of a break when, along with the $291 Amex bill (very low by our standards!) came a check from Margery at Give & Take for $130. Next month’s Amex will be at least $300, thanks to the wiper motor — but the following month, I’m dreaming about no Amex bill. Can you imagine: no Amex bill? We never could manage that!
But I do miss giving you presents!
6-11-06
Good Afternoon, My Love –
It’s finally stopped raining, for a while anyway. More coming Wednesday. I’m hoping the house stays relatively watertight, though I could smell dampness in a corner of the bedroom two days ago. Not bad yesterday, but will keep checking.
Got in a modest walk for modest money ($1.52). Hip and back aren’t too bad at the moment. Am watching the first game of a Red Sox double header — they’re losing — after which I’ll go out, get my art supplies, and apply at the B&N. As I watch I’m playing in a poker tourney (not too bad: 144th, but it’s still early).
Added a ruminative section to the “Fever Dream” sketch, exploring more Jane’s possible thoughts on her mother, summarized by “I am my mother; I am not my mother”, which I could say about myself. I just hope the addition strengthens the piece. Have no idea. Need Tom’s feedback. Later I’ll type the piece into an email and send it, to Tom, Lisa and work so I have a hard copy.
Ended the tourney in 115th place. You’d have done better.
Heard from Sindy. More soap opera, more characters, more confusion on my part, but at least she’s doing a bit better. Would give you details but can’t sort ‘em out and, today, don’t want to.
6-12-06
Good Afternoon Beloved –
Been a bit hectic at work, with me doing my job and Andy Chase’s. But the day goes faster this way.
I did type up and send to Tom and Lisa a draft of “The Fever Dream.” So I feel pretty virtuous about my weekend activities. Paid Verizon and Amex. Will mail the application to B&N on Rte 1 tomorrow. Was told they’re not hiring, but you never know. Still hope Home Instead will come through. Tomorrow, intend to call Phil Furman and, if I reach him, will tell him I’m giving him a head’s up that I’m using him for a reference, but I’ll really be hoping he can use me an evening or two, or on the weekend. Am also going to try to squeeze some bucks out of my ebay guy. Gotta get that bank account up beyond $1200. Nowadays, $1200 can disappear faster than a cookie in a kindergarten (or a cookie in the House of Boyce!).
I’m trying not to dwell on the sequence of events a year ago. It hurts a lot to remember what you and we went through. I think that’s why I got down the last couple of weeks. And if I start thinking about it, I can’t stop for a while and things get bad inside. So I’m trying to keep my mind in the present. There are no ghastly anniversaries, now that Memorial Day’s behind us, until September, And I expect to be pretty miserable then, as the 20th approaches.
Now, onto other things.
6-13-06
Good Morning My Love –
“Other things” proved to be art class where, again, I was praised for stuff you wouldn’t put on a refrigerator, but so desperate am I for female flattery that I lapped it up. Composition the topic. I’d started with an idea of a diagonal using 3 objects — 2 bottles and a kind of large goblet-shaped glass compote – but didn’t like it. One of the bottles was squat so I tried a rhomboid arrangement, with a tall narrow bottle in the middle and the two squatter items on either side. That worked OK, and teach liked it.
The highlight of the night came after I got home — and I’m sorry, I’m going to bore you with more poker talk. I’d about broken even during my brief play earlier and was trying to get in a bit more before bed (almost 10 p.m. by the time I got home.)
Got on my current favorite table, France 9. Noticed soon that a player three seats to my left would use fairly big pressure bets on marginal hands and was accumulating chips by forcing people out. You play someone like that by waiting for a quality hand and simply calling him, so you can dump if your hand deteriorates and crush him if the hand comes in.
I had A-2 of hearts. Called. Flop had an A, but I was worried about my low kicker. My target bet solidly pre-flop, more solidly post-flop. I called. Next card an A. I felt better but could still lose to a fourth A and kicker. My target bet higher; I called. The river was a 2. Now I’ve got a boat, aces full. All-in time for me, and I come ut with 11K in chips. Part one of my 2-part coup.
Then I noticed a player two seats to my right (which meant I had position on him.) He was a one-trick pony. If he got any kind of hand, he’d either check, call or make a very small bet, then pounce with an all-in at the river. He amassed 13K chips that way. I waited.
I got a 9-5 off. Small bets — my opponent’s pattern — allowed me to see the flopped. I flopped two pair. But 9s and 5s aren’t the nuts, so I was cautious, calling rather than raising, especially since I thought a raise might drive out my opponent, and his chips were what I coveted.
The turn was a 5.
Now I’ve got him. All I have to do is reel him in. I know he has something, otherwise he’d have folded early on.
I check. He does too. I forget the river card, but it didn’t matter As per his pattern my opponent went all-in, and I took almost every chip he had.
In terms of observation, strategy, play and outcome, this was the best hand I ever played. It exhilarated me so much I shook for ten minutes. So sweet!
Won 26K during that session.
Tom wrote back quickly, and complimentary, about “The Fever Dream.” Said nice things about the piece, and my writing. Said his own ain’t so hot. He has a gold mine in his adoption journals, but I think there’s something askew in his sense of himself as a writer. Perhaps he’s still too wrapped up in parenthood and trying to get by, or it could even be a dislocation effect. When I can shift focus from myself to him I’ll try to puzzle it out.
