It’s time to post. A cup of coffee flavored with sugar-free French Vanilla creme is the bomb right about now. The weather is a bit bizarre, my dog is on drugs…as always when the weather is bizarre, asleep on the floor close to my feet, and my oldest boy is computering behind me in my little office carved out of my living space. SWEET! I’m alive and kicking.
Riot called me last night asking if I could come to Vegas today and get him from school. Oh N-O-O-O-O-O! We talked, I called dadparental, Riot called me back, we talked, I asked to speak to momparental, we semi-got it worked out that if nothing else could be done about his weekend without proper supervision (parents working), I would be there at 5 p.m. to pick him up. I got lucky, the parentals worked something out (it’s about time, all they’ve done is fight for years) and I didn’t have to make the trip. Love the boy but I was looking for a break after his being here most of the summer.
The loons behind me had to have received my letter – the golf balls stopped landing in the back of my property and they unhooked their chain link panel from my corner post.
I have a small planting project going on, Crossvine: Bignonia capreolata.
And yes, I do know it’s a weed. Hopefully it’s going to weed itself into a mass of climbing vines over the next few years and build a foliage wall between me and the loons. If it works as I hope it will, the tubers and reseeding should make it nicely thick and full and provide a windscreen too and eventually I will run it down the fence that faces the desert – just in case someone decides to develop those 3 or 4 vacant lots on the west. If I start now, I could have a nice barrier if it happens.
In the Days of the Rack Attack post, I started sifting through a few layers of the dust that started my beginning with poker. The rack attack was one of us super live ones screaming for a full rack of $1 chips because we just went broke and needed more ammo for the game. The first time I ever witnessed this blessed event, I watched the cage person bring the rack and set it down on the table in front of the player, collect the $100 in cash, and go back to the cage. The player then dumped their chips out onto the table and threw the rack over their head behind them – obviously without bothering to look. Of course the rack was made of some kind of pot metal and had a major thunk when it hit the wall, or a table, or a chair. I don’t believe I ever did that. It’s possible but I just don’t think I did. I don’t remember anyone ever getting hit by one of the airborne racks either. Good thing. It could cause a coma, or worse yet, kill one of the poker-playing pool and that would mean one less player to feed the greedy rake — and later the jackpots.
The downside to a small playing pool, if strangers didn’t come through now and then to feed on us little fishies, the games would be a rock pile until people got paid or SS checks arrived.
Jumping past the rack attack days, we ran the poker game at the Stockman’s Bar (a college bar) for over a year. We had a lease with Swede and that included a small, locking cage area (about 6X8) that we kept our chips and cards in and two poker tables by the back entrance. Dirk Sol owned it before we did. (We meaning ex). Dirk was quite a character, as evidenced by the fact that he went to prison for counterfeiting, I think he said he had the plates in his basement when he got caught by the feds. The Montana government must not have been too concerned with the counterfeiting charge because he got a gaming license…or maybe he knew someone. Along with the colorful part of his life, he was a drinking, gambling, ladies man and I got the full brunt of his attention a few times. No go from my side, but he was very likeable and we got along.
One of the funny parts of the Stockman’s Bar was their logo: “Liquor up front, poker in the rear!” and the other was their clientele. All the young jocks and the cute girls looking to hook up with the young jocks. The testosterone levels were maxed out all the time, and the T&A was running in continual preview mode.
One night the boys in the bar were showing off their ‘jockness’ and had a belly-busting contest. They were positioned about 15 feet from the stand-up poker table I was dealing and stood about 10 feet apart facing each other. Big swig of beer from a pitcher and then a dead run at each other, shooting their chests out and body-slamming into each other. Then the big swig of beer they took beforehand turned into a spew of beer and mist as they shot it out at each other and everyone near them.
They hit the walls and slid down them, crashing into chairs and the bar, and people just jumped out of the way and laughed. It was funny…but maybe you had to be there.
A strange weather picture taken a few days ago.
Out the door for now, Tango. I’ll be back before long…I promise.