Blackjack, Stock Market, now Poker?! I may have a problem.



My recent post about investments made me think of another one of my forays into gambling – gambling.  Specifically, Texas Hold’em poker.  I tried (pushed) my luck in a local satellite tournament for the World Series of Poker (WSOP) back in April of this year.

I had the narrative already written in my head as I traveled south toward Treasure Island Resort & Casino in the ironically named Welch, MN.  The Cinderella story, coming out of nowhere, suffering through the effects of the flu and denied the chance to practice when the DOJ shut down the US operations of PokerStars.com and FullTiltPoker.com to win a spot at the Main Event in Las Vegas. 

A couple years ago, I had attended an annual sales meeting and the award dinner entertainment was a motivational speaker named Dan Thurmon.  Through the course of my professional career, I have attended several business meetings and have endured the bromides of just as many hired speakers, but I really enjoyed Dan Thurmon’s presentation.  One of his calls to action was to write down a list of everything you want to do in your life, no matter how seemingly impossible they are to achieve.  His point is, once you create your list, you will then start to develop ways to accomplish those goals. 

I imagine my boss thought I established goals like “grow sales by 20 percent” or “close a million dollar deal” or “win 'Distribution Manager of the Year' award," but I wrote down “bowl over 200 in a game” and “get under 100 in a round of golf” and “do stand-up comedy during open mike night.”  One other goal I had was to participate in a WSOP tournament in Vegas.  When I saw Treasure Island had a satellite tournament, I thought it would be my opportunity.

Real Men of Genius

Voiceover (singing):  Real Men of Genius!

Announcer:  Today we salute you, Mr. Two Day Propane Grill Builder

Voiceover (singing):  Mr. Two Day Propane Grill Builder!

Announcer:  After several months of your box of grill parts sitting in the garage, your wife hints heavily she would like to cook outside once before summer ends.

Voiceover (singing):  You can’t put her off forever.

Announcer:  That empty feeling in your gut isn’t the anticipation of grilled burgers, steaks, and salmon.  It’s the realization the instruction manual is the size of a phone book.

Voiceover:  Your story will be better without exaggerations!

Announcer:  After two hours of sweat-soaked effort, you decide to stop for the day once you realize the left and right leg brackets are assembled on the wrong side.  You go from Step 10 back to Step 6.

Voiceover (singing):  It’s like playing a game of ‘Chutes and Ladders!’

Announcer:  After four hours over two days in 90 degree heat with 70 percent humidity and damaging only one part in an expletive-filled tirade, you finally have a working propane grill.  At least, you hope it’s working.

Voiceover (singing):  Better have the wife use it first.

Announcer:  Go ahead and crack open an ice cold Bud Light, Mr. Fix-It .  Then you can decide how you are going to get that broken light bulb out of the socket without hurting yourself. 

Voiceover (singing):  Mr. Two Day Propane Grill Builder.

Investing in The Dirty Dozen

I nicknamed my portfolio “The Dirty Dozen” for the 12 stocks in which I have invested.  I don’t want to go any larger than that because it wouldn’t fit well into the spreadsheet I created.  Eleven of the stocks pay dividends, which were selected based on when the dividends are paid so that I would have some income every month.  The twelfth is a nod to my New England roots and favorite beer, Sam Adams, from Boston Beer Company (SAM).

I’m a dilettante when it comes to investing and I wouldn’t insist people follow my advice.  In fact, I have another spreadsheet titled “Stupid Investor” that I bring with me when we visit our accountant every April.  I first got involved in stocks through a Sharebuilder account.  I haven’t tried any of the other online trading Web sites, but I like Sharebuilder and have stayed with it for the last couple years. 

My first big purchase was in shares of Oshkosh Truck (OSK) after the stock lost about 66% of its value in a day.  OSK was a customer of Ziegenbein Associates, the company I was working for, and I knew it was doing a lot of work with military vehicles and had subsidiaries that built fire trucks, emergency vehicles, and refuse vehicles.  I was pretty sure the stock would come back again, and after a while it did.  When I finally sold all my shares, I made about $1,600.

I have recently inactivated that account, but had opened a second one after receiving my pension and profit sharing check when I was laid off from Ziegenbein Associates in July 2009.  I steadily improved my analytics of stocks to create a strategy with which I’m comfortable.  With the recent havoc of the debt ceiling debates in July and August, I had an opportunity to retool my portfolio.

A Tribute to Brenda Cumming, Nana

Nana's hostas transplanted to our garden

Last Friday, August 19, there was a memorial service for Nana, Brenda Cumming.  Nana was G-Bug’s maternal grandmother who passed away on Wednesday, August 3^rd after suffering through her own battle with cancer.  G-Bug, her mom and her husband were with her when she passed.  She was able to take one final trip to the Seattle area to visit her brother and had her children along to say goodbye.


My plan was to write a tribute to her on this blog, similar to the one I wrote for her husband, Papa Jer, and I had some ideas on stories; but after listening to some of the other people tell their stories, I had a better sense of what I wanted to share.  I didn’t stand to speak at the service, but what follows is what I wanted to say.

One of Brenda’s best qualities was to accept you for who you were.  Whatever history you brought with you, whether it was how you were raised, the lifestyle you lived, or the choices you made, she would embrace and value it.  However, she expected the best out of you, too, and wanted you to be the best “you” you could be.  It was in those moments when you didn’t do your best that you could face her Scottish temper or a debilitating “Oh, Honey!”

Nana was also a very generous person.  If you match that with her always trying to do her best, anything could become an event.  If you’ve ever been to a Thanksgiving at Nana and Papa’s, you know what I mean!  During the first Christmas I spent in Minnesota and away from my family, Nana wanted to make sure I didn’t feel left out.  She bought a stocking for me and filled it with small gifts and had several larger gifts under the tree.  I was going to get gifts from my family anyway, so I really doubled up.

And she would always be generous to you.  One night, I was late in picking up G-Bug at Nana’s house on her overnight visit with me; this was years later, after Amy and I divorced.  I called to let her know I would be late because a boot had been put on my car.  I had to get $100 and wait for the guy to remove it.  When I eventually got to Nana’s, she had $60 ready for me.  I think that was all she had in her wallet; otherwise she would have given me more.  While others wouldn’t have accepted the money, like her co-worker who had a speeding ticket that she offered to help pay, I did, but only because I had to.

At the time this happened I was living in a studio apartment and donating plasma to make ends meet.  I had three working light bulbs in the apartment as the others burned out and I placed the remainders in strategic locations; one by the bed, one in the bathroom, and one in the kitchen.  Around my birthday, G-Bug’s mom asked her what I would like for a gift.  She thought a moment and said, “light bulbs.”  I must have looked like a kid getting an X-box when I opened the package and found a four pack of bulbs. 

I tell you this story because the weekend after Nana passed, G-Bug was staying with me and one night I found her crying.  I crawled into bed with her and we talked.  She was worried she might forget Nana and already had a hard time remembering her voice.  I told her we had lots of pictures of Nana and probably some video, so she shouldn’t worry.  However, she has something more indelible than pictures.  She has Nana’s sympathetic and generous spirit, and that will always be with her.  I think all of her grandchildren have it and the people who knew her have a little of it, too.

Someone mentioned Nana’s mischievous nature and I got to see that as well.  I think it was just before Amy and my wedding when Nana took me to a salon to get my hair cut.  As I sat in the chair, she joked with the stylist, “I know you don’t have much to work with, but try to make him look nice anyway!”  I blushed to the roots of my hair, I had a lot more back then, and wanted to hide, but I wasn’t offended by the jibe because I knew there was no malice in it.  She teased me because she saw me as part of the family and I was glad to be included.

It is going to take some time to come to terms with Nana’s passing, but as the time passes and the pain subsides, I will always have great memories of her and for that I am thankful.

Before I conclude this entry, I want to send a special message to my family.  I know we don’t stay in touch as often as we should as we are spread out across the country and that makes it difficult to be close-knit.  In spite of this fact, I realize I’m lucky to have you in my life and am grateful for it.  Although I don’t say it often enough, you are always in my thoughts and I hope the best for all of you.  You have all my love.

Book Review: In The Woods

I think a successful writer should spend as much time reading as he does writing and part of what makes me “me” is an avid interest in reading.  For that reason, I want a component of my blog dedicated to reviews of books I have read.  My sister has been, what The Wife has identified as, a reading machine.  I believe she has finished her NINTH summer book.  I’ve just recently finished my first and have a lot of catching up to do.  Fortunately, I have a pile of books already on my shelf that I haven’t read, but picked up when browsing book stores because they interested me, so I won’t have to spend a lot of time finding my next quiet distraction.

The book I just finished was In the Woods by Tana French.  The story is set in present day Ireland and revolves around a detective who is trying to solve the murder of a 12-year-old girl found at an archaeological dig.  The detective, as a boy, grew up in the same town and went into the nearby woods with two friends.  They become lost and there was a frantic search for all three.  He was the only one to be found, covered in blood of one of his two friends.  The story alternates between the two cases and at times suggests there might be a link between them.  There wasn’t.

Las Vegas Day Four (Part 2): May 28, 2011



Rick James once famously said in an interview on the Chappelle Show that “cocaine’s a helluva drug.”  The same could be said for liquid cocaine, the street name of vodka Red Bulls.  The three of us hit the Strip and looked like wild monkeys running a 40-yard dash.  We weaved around clusters of pedestrians and snuck up on each other to jump-smack whatever bald spot was available.  My smacking was as limp-wristed as my punching.  There was one time when I leaped into the air behind Rob to smack his head and from some subconscious recess I thought, “what if that isn’t Rob,” so I misfired.  Then, Rob had jumped on the back of one of us.  I can only assume it was me because I have a hazy recollection of being pitched headlong on the sidewalk, only to regain my balance before serious damage could be done.

All inhibitions were down.  We had spent three days walking around Vegas, intentionally giving the card-flipping smut peddlers the Heisman (I was more polite, actually deigning to give a head shake or a “no” at many offerings), but not that night.  I took a card or booklet from anyone who offered, which set off a chain reaction of others handing me their cards.  I felt like a politician shaking hands with my constituents, eagerly and happily accepting the well wishes from the masses.  Once at the Paris, I had a huge stack of porn star collector cards, which I immediately deposited into the nearest trash bin.  I may have been drunk, but I don’t litter. 

Similar to the Jabbawockeez show, the doors to the Anthony Cools show were already open and people were finding their seats.  I could have used a stop at the bathroom, but we were worried about missing the show and we went right in.  The show started shortly after and Mike immediately volunteered to be hypnotized.  Anthony asked for several volunteers and it soon became obvious why.  Whenever a person showed any signs of not accepting a suggestion, he was escorted off the stage.  Anthony was weeding out those who weren’t as suggestible.  Those who were, especially Mike, put on an entertaining show.

There was one guy named Dave who was told that every time he heard his name, he would get an erection and would want to hide it.  Another guy would feel like his ass was on fire and rub it along the stage to put it out whenever Johnny Cash’s ‘Ring of Fire’ was played.  Anthony made the suggestion to the group that when he turned around, he would be naked from the waist down and well hung.  When he did turn, everyone had a shocked look on his face and Mike turned to the guy sitting next to him and held his hands about two feet apart with a look of awe on his face.

Las Vegas Day Four (Part 1): May 28th, 2011



We saved the best for last, which worked out well; otherwise we would have spent the rest of our trip recovering.  I don’t think any of us had much of a hangover, but we did sleep into the late morning.  Mike went downstairs and returned with three cups of coffee and a newspaper.  The coffee was just what the doctor ordered.  We eased into our day and took stock of what we still wanted to do while in Las Vegas.  We had tickets to Anthony Cools and wanted to go to Coyote Ugly, which would take care of our evening.  We felt baked from the intense heat of the past couple days, so we weren’t eager to sit by the pool.  The European soccer championship was in the afternoon and since Rob and I had money on the game, we wanted to watch it.  A foam party was scheduled in the Monte Carlo pool area starting at noon and lasting until six, which sounded like a lot of fun.  We had a pretty big window to catch the party and figured we could stop by when we had some free time.  We hadn’t done any souvenir shopping and we were leaving early tomorrow morning, so we decided to do that to get the day going.

We visited the local places, like Gameworks and the M&M store, across the street.  We didn’t walk around for long before I started to feel a little light-headed, probably for not having breakfast after an alcohol-fueled night.  We made our way over to the MGM Grand to visit the shop next to the lion’s cage.  Inside the store, there was a window where people could view a lion cub being fed from a bottle.  There was an older couple with a trainer in the room and I assumed they had paid for the experience.  I also took the opportunity to redeem my $15 ticket I had from video poker on our first night in town.

The soccer game had an early start time for us on the West Coast, and just in time for lunch.  We re-crossed the street to New York, New York and found a place with immediate seating at the Nine Fine Irishmen.  Barcelona was well represented in the bar, but the table we sat was in an area where most people were cheering Manchester United.  We had lunch and Sam Adams while we watched the game.  It became pretty obvious that Man U was out-matched in talent, but the score was tied 1-1 at the half.  I knew if Man U had a chance to win the game, the final score would have to be 2-1.  When Barcelona scored its second goal, my hopes faded.  When Barcelona scored its third goal, they evaporated.  At least I waited until the official end of the game before tearing up my ticket.  Mike paid for lunch and we headed outside.

Las Vegas Day Three: May 27, 2011

We were right back at it the next morning, in spite of a pretty grueling previous day.  My feet were killing me, as I had blisters on my souls and between my toes from walking in flip-flops all day.  Everything we did was fun, but we had packed a lot into a short time.  We were awake pretty early in the morning, but didn’t have quite the same bounce in our steps.  After an expensive Day 2, we became a little more cost conscious and grabbed breakfast at the McDonald’s in the Monte Carlo food court.  Rob and I wanted to place a couple bets, so we went to the Sports Book, while Mike searched for a cheap table.  After our fruitless search on Wednesday night, we learned the best time to play low stakes blackjack was in the mornings, after the hardcore drinkers and gamblers had zombie-shuffled to their rooms.

I was only interested in placing a bet on the European soccer championship between Barcelona and Manchester United on Saturday.  I put $50 on Man U (as in “Man, U made a lousy bet!”) with the potential to win $80.  Rob did the same and put another $50 on the Bruins winning Game 7 against the Lightning that evening.  Once we had our tickets, we went to find Mike.

He was playing at a table essentially by himself.  The min bet was $5, so I cashed in $50.  Rob had placed two $50 bets, so he didn’t feel like risking any more money.  Like the previous night, the action started well.  The dealer was a bit of a cold fish, but Rob started goofing with Mike and getting her involved and she started to warm up.  Mike was on the start of a good heater, but he would never bet higher than the minimum.  Even the dealer suggested he should press his bet, but he refused, politely.  A couple other players joined the table and all of us were winning more than losing.  

The trend didn’t last long and I could see my stack of chips diminishing.  We had played for about a half hour and we still wanted to sit by the pool before the day got away from us.  We cashed out and from my original $50 stake, I came away with $50.50.  That would be my best session of blackjack on the trip.  I suppose I should be grateful that I came out “ahead,” but I could have sat at an unattended table and not played for thirty minutes and had the same result.  There is no satisfaction in a “push.”  Mike did much better and commented, “There’s nothing like winning big to put a spring in your step.”  He then turned to me, patted me on the back, and said, “Something I hope you get to experience some time!”  Thanks, dick.

Las Vegas Day Two: May 26, 2011

I had set the alarm on my phone for 9a so we wouldn’t waste the morning, but we all started stirring at about 8a.  Mike was rolling over and I reminded him I wasn’t his wife before he decided to grab a teat and tell me to roll over.  There were a slew of things we wanted to do and we decided to put together a schedule over breakfast.  We crossed Las Vegas Boulevard (it really doesn’t become “The Strip” until night time) to the Denny’s directly opposite the Monte Carlo.

There was a fair-sized line for a table and Rob agreed to wait for our turn while Mike and I tried to find the movie theatre.  We knew one thing we wanted to do was to see The Hangover Part 2 on its opening day.  This, too, was conveniently across the street from the Monte Carlo, but the entrance wasn’t obvious.  We saw a sign for the theatre, but it was over the entrance to the parking ramp.  We went to the next pedestrian entrance and took the escalator upstairs.  This turned out to be the department store, Ross.  Rather than losing ourselves trying to find the theatre, we immediately turned around and took the escalator downstairs.  We figured we wouldn’t be able to find it before our table was ready, so we cut our losses and went back to Denny’s.  Outside we saw “actors” dressed as Elmo and Bumblebee trying to convince people to pay for pictures with them.

Once at our table, we had plenty of time to plan our day.  In fact, I would say the wait for the food took longer than the wait for the table.  At one point, the waitress said she had put our order “on the slow side.”  Thanks to Rob’s restaurant industry experience, he knew she probably had forgotten to put in our order.  I was fine with the delay, as I would have the chance to tell her I put my wallet “in the other pants.” 

Meanwhile, we planned to hang out by the pool and then take in a matinee showing of Hangover 2.  We would also purchase tickets to a couple of the shows we wanted to see, including Jabbawockeez at the Monte Carlo and one of the many Cirque du Soleil offerings.  I recommended seeing the Crazy Horse Paris show at the MGM Grand (formerly known as Le Femme).  The Wife and I saw this show a few years ago and it was very titillating, emphasis on the “tit.”  We decided to have dinner that night at Bahama Breeze as Rob could get us a discount on the meal; again, thanks to Rob’s influence in the restaurant industry.  We felt a lot better having a plan in place.

After breakfast, we made another effort to find the movie theatre entrance and eventually asked a security guard for help.  If we had walked the other way down the cross street, we would have found it.  We decided to catch the 2:45p matinee and returned to the Monte Carlo.  We visited the concierge to see what tickets we could get for a Cirque du Soleil show.  I was on board for Zumanity, but I think the consensus was for O at the Bellagio.  Regardless, the prices were well above what we wanted to pay, so we chose to get tickets for Jabbawockeez for Friday night.  Since we were guests at the hotel, we received a discount on the tickets.

Las Vegas Day One: May 25, 2011

I didn't heed my own advice from my previous posting about what to plan and to expect in Las Vegas. Rather than pack my clothes in a carry-on, I packed a suitcase.  I'm pretty cheap when it comes to certain things and I usually can't justify spending $25 to check a bag.

However, my recent business trip to Kansas City made me realize the convenience of having one fewer item to bring through security. Plus, our most recent purchase from Melaleuca had a skin care kit that included sun screen. The tube is five ounces and too large for a baggie of toiletries. Rather than trying to squeeze three ounces into a TSA-approved container, I decided to pack a suitcase. This allowed me to bring the body wash, shampoo, toothpaste, and deodorant I purchased as well.

The other piece of advice I didn't follow was using my pocket cash strictly for gambling. I spent the morning before my flight doing a little house cleaning to give The Wife a head start before her mother arrived on Saturday. I didn't eat anything while at home and waited until I was at the airport to buy a small Lunchable and a bottle of green tea.  The total was $6.15 and I broke a ten. For those keeping count (like me), the trip had cost me $31.15. I'm going to try to keep a full accounting of my expenses.

My morning wasn't all about Swiffer, Febreze, and chinchilla poop.  I had reversed engineered my schedule, as is my nature, to calculate when I should leave for the airport.  I usually allow for plenty of cushion because I get seriously stressed about being at the airport in time for my flights. The dogs, Jack and Jill, were itching for another turn in the backyard and I let them out as I gathered my bags.

Once I was sure I had everything, I headed to the garage to put my luggage in the car. As I crossed the driveway, Jill came running from the front yard and my heart sunk. The two of them usually pair up for their antics, so I assumed Jack had also run to the front yard and Jill followed. They are good dogs for the most part, but now that the weather is warmer, they suffer from cabin fever and wanderlust. In truth, I'm surprised Jill came back so quickly. I think she knew they were being bad and she didn't want to upset the Alpha Male. Jack, however, went rogue.
The next 30 minutes were highly stressful. I went around the corner to where a full-size poodle lives, but the dog wasn't outside and I didn't see Jack. I knew I had to leave shortly and all sorts of desperate thoughts crossed my mind. What if Jack was hurt?  Or followed someone home? Or decided to go exploring?  I paraphrased a line from Speed:  you've got 20 minutes before leaving for the airport and your dog is AWOL. What do you do?  What DO you do?