How many times can you pass Go and not collect $200? If you’re in the Emerald City…never. If you’re in the real world, I figure it can go on forever. Let’s talk real world…poker. Thursday night…welcome to High Limit Country. Most of it was unbelievably funny. Although it was probably funnier to me than anyone else, most of the high limit players seemed to either be in a very sociable mood or high on drugs…just kidding about the drugs part.

My first game was the final table of the daily tournament. I rarely deal these, there’s one or two left when I come into work but they are never in my line-up. The usual bad beats happening at this table, it’s down to a big ante/blinds and players are dropping like flies. I try never to think about anything when I deal these except to make sure the antes, blinds, and pots are right.

$400-800 7 Card Stud for my next game. I tried not to think about anything in it either, just “Antes please!” and shuffle up and deal. No headaches, no bruises. Danny Robinson was in this game. I hadn’t seen him in years up until last week and he’s lost so much weight it took me a few minutes to grasp that it was really him…another gastric bypass person. I’m not knocking it.

The next game was the first game I started laughing in and had a hard time stopping. It was Deuce to 7 Triple Draw, $400-800 and Sammy F. was in the 1s. When I walked up behind the dealer, Sammy looked up at me, smiled, and said, “Hello, Linda!”

It was six handed since they weren’t playing Mixed games (only six players in Deuce) and Sammy was jamming it up. First he loved the game, then he hated the game, then he loved the game. Shaun was in the 7s and gambling like he had an endless supply of chips (maybe he does) but in any case, he’s one of my favorites in any game.

When Sammy F. checked, he said, “Checky wecky.” When he bet, he said, “Betty Wetty.” When he raised he said, “Raisy Daisy!”

In one hand, Shaun drew one card, Sammy rapped pat and said, “Patty Watty.”

The third player opted to draw one and I tapped the table, burned, and declared, “One - Patty Watty - One,” as I dealt their draw cards. Sammy laughed and I couldn’t stop laughing.

The last hand I dealt was a huge pot. Shaun ended up all-in and stated he was playing behind after every raise went in on every street. I said, “You know you can’t play behind.”

He looked at me. I looked at him shaking my head. Sammy asked what the deal was, was Shaun playing behind because if he was Sammy didn’t care. Shaun reached over to the 8s and grabbed a stack of chips and said, “If Sammy doesn’t mind, I’m playing behind!” and started putting in a raise.

I stopped it right there. Shaun was all-in for $900 of Sammy’s raise on the last draw. Sammy and the 2s ended up splitting the side pot with a 7-6-4-3-2-. Shaun had a wheel. WTF! Amazing those three hands. I got pushed.

Off I went to a friendly little $4-8 H game and then into Bobby’s Room to deal a $1,000-2,000 mixed. Freddie D. and John J. were playing over. Some funny things happened there in which I busted out with a belly laugh but since they weren’t game related and they were personal comments - and I was not involved in any of it, I seriously refuse to write about that type of thing.

Off and running to $80-160 H - more $80-160 H - and then off to NL Deuce to 7 Single Draw, $100 ante, $200-400 Blind. Aaron was in the 1s, Johnny C. in the 2s, Chau in the 3s, David G. in the 5s, Freddie D. in the 6s, Sammy F. in the 7s, and a name unknown player in the 8. The chips were at war at all times - mainly with Sammy and the 8s. The only easy part of the game was that it was single draw and no limit. Easy on me but not on Sammy’s BR. He went all-in several times. Thankfully, he never made a comment to me or pitched his cards at me. He just laid his hand down and waited for the next one.

The funny part of this game…no I didn’t laugh…was that Aaron left his seat to talk to someone right by the table. He turned around after I dealt the hand, as if expecting to be dealt in. When he sat back down, he asked the players (not me), “They don’t deal you in you don’t ante?”

The response was all at once from Johnny, Chau, and David, not in order, “What game have you ever played in that had an ante that if you didn’t ante, they dealt you in?” - “You figure it out!” - “This isn’t a tournament where they take your ante and deal you in.”

I was really happy to leave this table. Everyone seemed tense and out of sorts with each other. The next game was kick back $10-20 NLH. Anyone in the Must Move had to hate getting moved to this game. Most of these guys were waiting…no, they weren’t trying to pass Go. They were just waiting.

I survived High Limit Country and never did pass Go but I did find a friendly little $4-8 game for my last down. The 10s said hello to me as I planted my butt in the chair and my brain wondered if I could make it through one more down. We had three seats open and a game broke…we filled up. I woke up by teasing the 5s - he came in from the broken game. He was a demanding little dickens, nothing bashful or quiet about him. I had him laughing…and the table got involved. Here’s where I met Chris. He lives in AZ and was in the 3s. Sure…he’s a reader. So I really did pass Go!

Every night since I returned from the Emerald City, two games have been running on my shift in Bobby’s Room. Missed them…not as in I felt bad because I didn’t get to deal them.

I had a query from a $4-8 H player last night, “How high a limit do you play here, $300-600?”

I did my best dead pan, “Any limit you want to play, someone will play with you.”

“Really???” came from around the table.

Then we had to do ‘how high a limit have you dealt’ and we were off and running. I gave them a teensy background of the Beal/Corporation Game; explained that the corporation pooled their cash and they played Andy one at a time. They were completely and totally awed by the thought of a $100,000-$200,000 game. The original questioner sarcastically blurted, “Yeah, one blind is the cost of my house.”

Several players did a guffaw/noise/throat clearing and I said, “Yes. It’s obscene. But that’s the way it is.”

*NOTE - a limit being obscene is not a judgment on my part. Everyone has their own wrinkle and perspective/priority on what it takes to make things work for them.*

They asked me questions, I answered some of them. Who was my favorite player to deal to? What was the biggest pot I ever pushed? And on and on and on. I left them laughing and they did the same for me. Fun group!

I was totally exhausted by the time I hit the end of my shift. Since our remodel, our newest tables are bigger and there’s no dealer cut out. I literally cannot reach the chips in front of the 3 and 7s - or the cards for that matter. Of course the players in those seats always set their bets out two inches from their fingers. Go figure! The Shuffle Master in some of our tables is indented so far into the table (not Shuffle Master’s fault) that it creates a lip which seems to trap cards and chips. Extra time is spent trying to pull/push cards and chips over that lip. It all adds up to irritation and exhaustion for me and most of the dealers. Plus some sections of the room are like an oven, especially up on ‘the hill’ with the beautiful new glass panels that surround it for privacy…no air moves through there. Sum it all up to my butt’s crawling after eight hours.

Andrew - a reader here - looked me up in the room. I dealt to him the first night and managed a short visit with him on a break last night. He’s on a LOA from his job and planning on spending a month in Sin City. More time to visit coming up.

I dealt an $8-16 H game on Tuesday night with a smiling, happy face in the 8s. When I sat down, he informed me that everyone was really grouchy there. He beamed and smiled through my down and by the time I left, I think most of them were ‘ungrouchy’. He found me between pushes last night and told me his name is Chris and he reads here too. KEWL!

I have a possible early a.m. hike on the agenda for Friday…right after work…with the Patterson Brothers and their Mom - Mom’s visiting from out of town. Calico Basin is my pick, easy to get to, beautiful area, and the company will be top of the line. Right now it’s shower time and I’m off to the Real World to find more people that read here.

I discovered Michelob Ultra…dry as hell, low carb, ‘light’ beer. Yummy! Only problem is I want one after I’ve been up a few hours. Now I see people everywhere in the poker room belting them down and I’m just dealing away with a dry mouth. Sheee-it! I tapped a dealer out of a $4-8 H game and while waiting for him to finish the hand, the 2s looked up at me. She was drinking none other than an ‘ultra’. I said, “Hey, my favorite beer.”

She replied, “No thanks. I’m good.”

Umnhhhh! Maybe she had one too many. Or I looked like the cocktail waitresses. NOT!

In an $80-160 game…mass action, one player all-in, I start to pull the bets for the side pot around and into the side pot and the player in the 6s grabbed the side pot and pulled it toward his chips with, “I’ll help you by getting this out of your way.”

He really meant it. I was flabbergasted as he pushed it back into its original spot. I replied, “I really don’t want your hands on the pot.”

“I was only trying to help.”

Me, “Still…you can’t touch the pot.”

He’s a player, been around, not a regular but someone that comes in at tournament time. Honestly what was he thinking? He couldn’t have been thinking…that’s one of the biggest sins of all time, a player putting their hands in/on the pot.

*****

I deal for weeks without getting involved in the conversation or opening my mouth other than directing traffic and then I go off the wall and out of line with too much talk and smart ass noise. A $15-30 H game and I went into Super Lip Mode. As I came around with the second down card, the 9s had a 4-H laying face up in front of him. I did not see the card flip or flash when I dealt it. I asked, “Did I expose that card?”

He replied, “It hit my hand and turned up.”

The 10s sided with the 9s’s comment and my mouth went into gear before my brain was prepared to stop it, “Then keep your damn hands out of the way,” as I gave him a replacement card.

I started laughing. The 10s was chuckling as he said he’d never heard a dealer do that before. The 9s knew I was kidding and he took it quite well. I have always wanted to say that to a player and it just popped out of my mouth. But why did I say it? Is there some latent childhood freak show running through my brain that manifests itself in ’smart ass mode’ when I’m supposed to be serious and professional?

I did it again a few hours later. Another $15-30 H game. A woman I’ve dealt to infrequently over the years took the 10s. She’s got the laid back, real world, lusty kind of look about her and I know she’s not offended by too much of anything…otherwise I think I could have hit the brake on my mouth and truly concentrated on being a professional. The rest of the game was a group of guys that were jabbing each other, flinging chips, table talking, and in general just gee-hawing. The boys on the right hand side of the table kept drop kicking me into the conversation - even if I tried to stay out it, it wasn’t going to work. Each pot was max raked and I always put an extra five blue chips in the pot instead of shipping it to the winner with one blue in it, it has six. Pretty standard.

The 9s, a frisky looking kid, asked, “Linda, are you putting extra blues in each pot? Do you want bigger tips?”

Woops…mouth brake failure alert!!!! I instantly queried, “Did you say bigger tits or bigger tips?”

The table went nutz-z-z. The 10s busted up and said, “If she doesn’t get bigger tips, she can’t afford bigger tits!”

They were a lot of fun. On to the rest of the night. I spent most of it laughing my ass off. I don’t know why. I hadn’t taken any drugs or giggle juice…just on a high that can only be found without looking for it…high on life.

Everything appeared to be as I left it…the poker room that is. There were people milling everywhere - and yes, some of them were the same people that were there when I left almost two weeks ago. I liked my start in the line-up, Table 16, which meant I should be dealing all the fun games and never have to shift too many gears during the night. It was a little strange to try and concentrate on the action and pay attention after not having to focus on too many things during my vacation (other than shopping, where we were going next, and how much slop I was going to pour down my throat from the fast food places).

Table 16 was a short handed Must-Must Move $80-160. The first thing I got was an argument about taking Time. I called the Floor. They had to pay it because they’d already been allowed a Time pass once before.

The 8s was a bit of a jerk. I’m not sure how much of him I’ve seen previously but he strikes some kind of bell in the caverns of my gray matter and now I won’t forget him. He’s cemented himself in the ‘I’m unhappy and I want you to be too’ category - damn high up on the list. He has a lot of ink on his arms - either the work is brand new or he keeps his arms shaved to show it off. Not sure which and really don’t care. Of course he’s not supposed to lose…he’s a player. I have a love/hate relationship with these players…hate to deal to them, love to play with them. Hello Tilt-o-rama!

I won’t go into the review of playing short vs. playing a full table - I’m not in the poker lesson business so let me just get right into Ink and his twisted view of poker. The game got shorter as players were called to the Must Move $80-160. He slammed through a couple of hands and lost, making comments about that’s how someone knocked him out of a tournament…by getting lucky, blah, blah, blah.

The 5s was new to me - he came to play and he won the hands Ink lost. A new player took the 2s. After another player shuffled in and someone else got called to move, the 2s decided to take a Missed Blind Button and, “Let me check out what’s going on here.”

At the same time, Ink was losing another pot to the 5s. Ink steamed, “Yeah, let me check out what’s going on here too. Give me an out button!”

Funny because he was the Button. Ink took a walk and stood around staring at the players in the game. The two players still seated were chuckling over Ink’s attitude. Another player came in, one got called to move and Ink returned to glare at the world. The 5s asked if they could play three handed; Ink gave him a lecture - basically stating the 5s was an idiot and he must not get enough poker where he lived or he wouldn’t be dying to play. Ink got called to the Must Move game and another player came in. The three remaining players slammed a lot of chips into the pot before I got pushed. Not to worry…I got to deal to Ink again later in my shift.

About an hour later I hit a seven handed $4-8 H game in which one hand was pretty damned amazing. The play of the hand was total jam, max raises, everyone was slamming and due to the fact that low limit games are mostly new players, I really thought someone had spiked a straight when all the raises went in on the Turn (just like the raises did pre-flop and on the flop). The Flop was something like 5-6-3 (might have been a 4 instead of a 5).

The 6s had 3-3 but turned into a caller right away, even after flopping a set. The 8s had Q-Q and almost folded, made comments about it, but his hand just kept throwing chips in the pot…that’s my definition of a bad hand. One that doesn’t listen to your brain and just keeps throwing away your chips.

The 1s had J-J and he didn’t say a word as his hand threw chips in the pot…as a matter of fact, he put in some of the raises on all streets.

The 5s had 8-8. Bingo…8 on the Turn! The whole thing seriously looked like a straight now as the 5s had been in the BB. He got the cap in on the raises. The River brought another middle card that would make it appear even more dangerous for all the hands but the 5s slammed out a bet like he couldn’t be beat. Obviously he was right…he stacked a huge pot as he got called in three places.

While I was dealing this game, Lemlem (one of our dealers), came around and told me the guy in the 9s on Table 36 was looking for me. I was on a break table so I looked him up when I got pushed. Turns out both he and the 10s are readers here. Sweet! The 9s’s named is Colbert, the 10s’s name is Gene. I visited briefly, went for a cup of coffee and returned to visit with them a little more. Colbert is from Ohio (transplant) and plays mostly online poker there. Gene is from New York - underground games and one them got busted last week.

They both generously handed me chips for my ’server fees’ because they like my brain explosions on Tango. I almost felt embarrassed to take the chips but who am I to turn down money. I like the fact that they like what I write. We did visit a bit about online poker and bots. Agreeing that collusion is possible but not as productive for cheaters in lower limits…that’s where I play, lower limits. And that bots are possible and do exist but that all online sites are always searching for ways to clean up the games for the honest players. I like these guys and their thoughts. They were settled in $2-5 NLH and promised they’d check back in during the week to say ‘hi’. Sure hope so.

A few hours later I hit the Must Move $80-160. Ink was in the 7s. Still glaring and feeling put out by the fact that the other players didn’t just write him a check so he wouldn’t have to battle for their money - anyway that’s my take on his POV.

This game was really active when I first sat down. The 2s went all-in with 6-2 of Clubs…capped pre-flop with six or seven way action. The 9s held A-6 of Spades. Two sixes on the Flop - one Club - mass action.

The Turn - a Club - is where the 2s ended up all-in. That pot had over $2,000 in it. When the smoke cleared, the 9s won a pot that had about $700 in it because a Club appeared on the River, giving the 2s a flush. Hello lottery!

Ink had ordered food. We have a new chip runner that is so small and cute, really quiet with a shy smile, and never seems to lose that smile. Her name is Nan and I don’t believe she understands or speaks English well but then I’ve never sat and visited with her…I could be wrong. But she has the innocent look of a small child visiting Disney Land and wondering what it’s really all about. When Nan walked up with Ink’s food and held the box out to him, he snapped, “Get a Table…GIVE IT TO THE FLOORMAN!” as he waved over his shoulder at Skip.

He didn’t give her the courtesy of even being a human or able to comprehend life in general. Nan did as told. After Ink settled in and started shoveling chow, he barely looked up long enough to look at his hand and fold. He won some pots…still unhappy. A cocktail waitress walked by with a full tray, he snapped at her, “I want two waters.”

She replied, “I’m not your server but she’ll be along shortly.”

He glared at the players at the table and barked, “They are always in your face when you don’t want them around.”

A hand later, I saw a cocktail server come off of the high limit section, behind Ink’s back. “Honey, are you are waitress?”

She nodded yes. I opened my hand to Ink and said, “He’d like something.”

He acted like she was a flea, barely looking over his should at her, “Two waters.”

He was still shoveling food. She sat down one water and reached to her tray for the second one. He barked, “TWO waters!”

As she sat the second one down, she said, “One…..two.”

He gave her a buck but never acknowledged anything…and that’s the only tip I saw him give during both of my dealing sessions. The first cocktail waitress that he had asked for water even returned and asked him if he had been taken care of. No thank you, kiss my ass, or go to hell came out of his lips. But he did nod. Sheesh! Poor guy! It must be hell living in there.

*****

Two games running in Bobby’s Room: $2,000-4,000 Omaha 8/b and PLO $300-600; $1,000-2,000 HORSE and Deuce to 7 Triple Draw. I missed them both…yippee! Players in attendance throughout the night, that I saw as I waltzed by: Sammy F., Doyle, Chau, Jennifer, Johnny C., Jeff L., Minh, and a variety of others but I didn’t stand and stare at the game.

John H. AKA Johnny World, Huck S., and more ‘name brands’ were playing the room in other games.

Gee…it’s good to be back home again!

I need to keep repeating this for myself…over and over…until it’s cemented into my brain - never, NEVER, click on a link out of email or another program while I’ve got an active post going here. Shee-it! Once again I’ve lost the whole damn post and have to start over…arghhhh! Back to the beginning:

Welcome to Oz was spinning through my thoughts and disrupting my lifestyle over the last ten days. I didn’t have to click my heels or wear rose colored glasses to visit the Emerald City, all I had to do was bring Jasmine and Kayanna home with me for a week. The fantasy is nonstop, shop ’til you drop - malls, Walmart, swap meet - rent movies, more shop ’til you drop, fast food ‘food sluts’, food shopping, cooking, computer games, shoes and clothes strewn throughout the house, continual sound - music, tv, conversations - and slamming more food down my throat than the law allows…throw in a few beers for me (off the wine kick for awhile…must be the summer heat).

We did manage a hike at Red Rock Canyon. We tripped through The Lost Creek Trail and The Children’s Discovery Trail. When I hit The Lost Creek Trail with Wayne a few months ago, it was filled with water and a 100 foot waterfall adorned the cliff. The only thing showing resembling water now was a light sheen on the face of the rock at the top. Summer has arrived.

I find myself continuously laughing over our 4X trip up into Little Red Rock. Little Red Rock sits to the right, about five to six miles up above the Summerlin explosion, as you journey up Charleston towards Calico Basin and Red Rock Canyon. It’s all dirt bike and 4X terrain. As we jumped onto the rutted, rocky, bumpy trail, complemented with “Oooohhhhs - Ahhhhhhh” by the girls, Jasmine said that she would be afraid to drive my truck on ‘this stuff’ if it were her.

I laughed, “It’s a 4X drive. That’s what they’re made for. I bought it for a lot of reasons and this is one of them.”

She continued, “Aren’t you worried about the tires?”

“Nope, they’re made for this kind of terrain.”

“Yeah…but what if you pop one of them?”

I was laughing even harder now. “These tires are made for this. That’s why they are called 4X wheel drives. And if I did pop one of the tires, I have another one under the bed.”

Kayanna chimed in, “Yeah Grandma, but we aren’t at your house.”

*laughing to the nth*

Saturday morning found me taking Kayanna to the airport and dropping Jasmine at the mall for more shopping. Kayanna is an unaccompanied minor and I would be the only one with a pass to get through security and see her safely onto the plane so Jasmine’s time would be better spent at the mall. Kayanna went home to mom and I managed to get through it without a tear. I’m sure it’s because she’ll be back in August, a few months away, to make the yearly sojourn to N. Idaho for the family reunion/camp out…if she wasn’t coming back for a year, I believe I’d have gone into dehydration mode from leaking eyes after she hit the plane. I seriously try not to slobber and blubber while she’s in my presence because I want our time to be really good, not her thinking of my distress.

The beautiful Jasmine left this morning. She’s so kewl. Ready to get on with her life, just young enough to be a lot of fun to hang with and just old enough to get around on her own and take care of her life.

On the strange and unexpected events that happen in life - it’s 6 a.m., we’re standing in the ‘Que’ - next in line to be called by an Allegiant Air clerk - and Roy Cooke walked right by us. I stopped him for a moment and introduced him to Jasmine. He was heading for Montreal. I used to deal to him a lot but haven’t now in a long time. He apparently frequents Bellagio on weekends but I’m off so that explains that.

While I would never give up the time I had to spend with these girls, I’m really glad to have my own little space back. Living alone allows one a lot of privileges and space. I like it. Perhaps that’s the true definition of being selfish. But I look at it this way, living alone allows me to choose the people I want to spend time with…I pick the best.

*****

A sad note, received an email from Jason Kirk and our first place finisher of the March Clan Jam, Charlie is having a bad run of health. Jason’s blog is listed on the Blog page here under Catching the Antichrist. Thoughts and prayers for Charlie.

*****

Tomorrow night I leave Oz to return to the real world. While I was drifting through The Emerald City, The World Series of Poker began at the Rio, the Poker Bloggers got together for a tournament in Vegas, and I’m sure a zillion poker hands were dealt and played out throughout the world. Hello Bellagio…I’m coming back.

*****

Please come to the Poker Forum, register, start a topic or add to one that’s already there, and share your thoughts. No spammers - PLEASE!!!!

The weather in Montana changed to sunshine, perfect temperature, on the morning of graduation. One of my great nephews, Tyler, graduated with Jasmine. Three highschools, around 300 seniors in each, three different time schedules, graduated from the Adams Center Field House at the University of Montana. A mass of bodies, some clad in graduation togs, joined together to celebrate life and the future…my little group of family met, hugged, and joined with the mass. I escaped the need to cry but have to admit that my eyes misted for so long a few times I thought they were going to run over.

We arrived back in the desert on Sunday, shortly after noon. It was so nice to be home. Great to travel, great to come home. Nothing is better than my own little space, tucked quietly away from the rest of the world…and my bed! God! If I could just take my bed with me when I go somewhere. Now my schedule has kind of drifted to a daytime thing…eyes open before non…moving around in daylight hours and sleep somewhere between 10 p.m. and 2 a.m. Next week will send me back to the vampire schedule…the girls go home this weekend and I go back to work next Monday.

On the poker scene, the poker bloggers had a tournament here in Vegas while I was in Montana. Wish I could have been there but next time…

Before I left town, I dealt $20-40 7 Card Stud that had me in stitches. Kim AKA The Dragon Lady was in the 5s. Gus (more than one post on him) was in the 4s. Jeff (The General) was in the 8s but walking. The 7s was a familiar face but infrequent player and running over the game. The 1, 2, and 3s were all new faces.

Gus was doing his usual glare - mainly at the world and the other players, not so much the dealer. When I sat down, he asked me to just do a mini-scramble - followed by “…if you don’t mind,” but I missed that part of it. Gus has an accent and sometimes it’s hard to follow what he’s saying. I did the mini-scramble on the first hand, thinking that was what his request was.

The 1s lofted his cards into the air about the 3rd hand I dealt and they lit right on my hands. I hate it!!!! No they didn’t hurt, but it’s the idea. I said, “I don’t drop your cards onto your hands, please don’t drop them on mine.”

He went into a, “Right! I sliced your hands with those cards….blah, blah, blah.”

I started laughing. He was being sarcastically mean with his tone and I wasn’t going to war with him. I was prepared to call the floor if it happened again. It didn’t.

Kim was glaring when I sat down…it got worse.

The 7s mopped up the game and stacked all the chips. About the 10th hand he won, I did a min-scramble…for no reason…just a reflex I guess because it’s still a little strange to have Shuffle Masters on every table. Gus went off on me. “Now she decide to do a scramble?” waving his arms in the air.

Kim jumped on his bandwagon, making some comment about it.

I told him I didn’t realize that he wanted one every hand. Kim rolled her eyes. Still waving his arms, Gus growled, “Never argue with the dealer. Dealer is always right!”

I exclaimed, “Unnecessary!”

The 1s told Gus to stop, he couldn’t stand the stress because he had a weak stomach. Gus’s comment to the 1s was rude and short. The 1s replied, “I will throw up if you don’t stop.”

Later on though, the 1s forced every issue he could with Gus. Continuing to needle Gus when Gus asked the 1s to leave him alone. Kim was going into a twitch and jerk mode - she was low and glared the hating eye roll at me as she waved her hand at me!

By now I was getting into the ‘fruit loop’ mode that the players were in. I waved my right hand up into the air, looked at Kim, and asked, “What does that mean?”

Now…you must keep in mind that Kim and I have HISTORY! I refuse to be affected by her personal moods and player modes and in general, I laugh at her and she takes it pretty well…and usually starts laughing with me…if you can call the little eye glimmer and small mouth twitch the beginning of laughter. She softens up no matter how you cut it and how hard she tries to be mad, I can usually put out the dragon’s fire.

So…she glared at me, “You make me fucking low every time.”

I blurted, “I do not make you F-king low every time, just every fourth or fifth hand.”

She almost smiled.

I got pushed a few hands later, she was waving her hand in the air at me again. I said, “Hey…I’m going to the table right behind you, get on the list.”

She snorted, “I fucking kill you.”

I laughed, “You don’t kill grandmas.”

She snarled, “You aren’t a grandma.”

I walked around behind her, put my arm around her neck in a hug, and pulled her head next to mine…still laughing.

She was laughing by now, telling me to get the hell away from her.

About 20 minutes after I left that game, the Supervisor was called to settle a dispute. Somehow, someway, the 1s was heads-up with another player in a big pot and the other player declared a flush at showdown and turned his cards up. The dealer didn’t see it, someone else spotted the fact that there was a club in the spades or whatever the suits were but the 1s had already thrown his hand away. And obviously the 1s had the no pair, no flush hand beat but it was too late. The players ended up splitting the pot. It could have been much worse for the 1s for throwing his hand away without making sure he was beat.

What a playground! I tell people I’m only there for the insurance…

It’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is snoring…not quite. It is raining and has been a steady sprinkle since we hit town yesterday a.m. That means it’s a lot cooler than the normal temperature I’m used to in Vegas - Montana ain’t even close to the desert climate and landscape.

Spending a few hours in a small home with eight kids, all eight or under, could be classed as a form of child abuse - the adults can barely take it - the senses reel with the noise and the kaleidoscoping body parts as they all join in a game of hide and seek, or wrestling, or dog role playing. Dog role playing? I started that with Kayanna before she moved away to MO three years ago. Her dog name is Pleshette and her cousin Robert’s dog name is Francois. Imagine watching six kids nip, bark, yip, paw the air, and traipse through the limited space in the house on their hands and knees, each trying to outrun the pack or be heard over the noise.

Being back in ‘kidland’ is heartwarming and a nice experience but not something I yearn for and could do fulltime. Now if I had a few more days with the older ones, I could teach them how to play poker…

The fair and beautiful Jasmine of Missoula graduates from highschool tomorrow. I’m thinking I need a handful of kleenex because my eyes may just keep dripping like the Montana skies. Damn! I’m just too emotional sometimes.

The poker scene when I hit my last night of work before vacation: The room was fairly quiet when I arrived around 6 p.m. I took a seat in a $4-8 game and managed to eke out a few $$ win before clocking in and dealing. Dealing? I signed the E/O-Play list and was out to play without having dealt a hand. I played for almost three hours before I got picked up - I was stuck.

I was picked up to start a three handed $300-600 LH - $50-100 PLH. Peter, an unknown, and The Grinder. My down was LH and the action in the first ten minutes was unbelievable.

When I hit the next table, $10-20 NLH, someone asked me about the game and wanted to know who was winning…how could I tell? The way the chips were slamming into the pot, if one of them was $15,000 winner when I left, he could be $30,000 loser in the next hour.

The dealer I was pushing said something about ‘The Grinder’. It struck me as a statement of awe and I had the thought…lots of times over other players…that people drift into the poker scene and within a short time everyone knows their name, who they are, what they eat for breakfast, who they love, where they live, what they think, and how they play. The majority of those that drift in and become known end up the same way within a few years, they drift out. No one ever hears about them again. One day you find them in a little $4-8 game across town, or they come in to play and tell you they stopped playing for a few years, or they’ve been out of the country. They always come back around but they’re not the same person or player that held the poker world in awe back when.

I can’t help but wonder how many of the new players that are featured in magazines and winning tournaments and playing high limit now will disappear into the dust of those climbing up the steps now.

The Grinder is a perfect name for a player but while you are grinding, you have to have steel encased brass, a heart that won’t explode when your brain blows up because they caught their single out on the River for the 900th time, and a brain that has a self sealing repair feature or you’ll have fragments of gray matter all over the inside of your skull.

Right now I can’t imagine playing poker for a living. But keep in mind I don’t have to and I’m drinking beer, sitting in a hotel, in Missoula, Montana with the gentle whisper of rain and gloomy skies outside. It’s so nice to be happy wherever I am. Damned if I ain’t.