Life Is Like A Game Of Poker

I was all over social media (or at least more than usual) on Father’s Day this past Sunday. And no, I wasn’t searching for YouTube videos about funny, stupid, smart and/or inspirational dads.

I spent the day cheering on my husband, but not for the typical Father’s Day reasons. Don’t get me wrong, he is an awesome father to his 29 year old son and equally awesome stepfather to my 18 year old son (well, 18 in two days…Happy Birthday Nathan!) and 21 year old daughter.

So call me crazy but…I spent a day posting like, well crazy, in support of and his quest for one of these…

That ladies and gentlemen is the coveted World Series of Poker gold bracelet and my husband, Stan, a long time poker player, went to Las Vegas to win one of these in their first ever WSOP Super Seniors Tournament. For years they’ve had a “Seniors” event which meant you had to be 50 and older, but to be a Super Senior?…65 and up baby! Stan happens to be 66 so this tournament, if he won, would have sort of eliminated the need for any AARP discounts moving forward.

This was actually his second time going to the WSOP. He was sent two years ago through the poker club he belongs to here in Tampa and made it through the first very long and grueling day which was highlighted by helping knock out a rather famous player, Barry Greenstein around midnight. Obviously he was on cloud nine going into Day 2 only to be smacked with a big dose of “that’s why they call it gambling” when the cards just weren’t stacked in his favor 19 minutes into play. 

He had to spend another day in Sin City dealing with his somewhat wounded pride. However, when he landed in Tampa my son and I were there at 1 am with this sign…

I know, I know…Wife Of The Year right?

Anyway, I know better than to actually go with him to Vegas. Way too intense not to mention way too hot in June and that’s coming from someone living in Florida. This is totally his thing except, of course, if he wins and then it’s totally our thing.

That being said, I’ve kind of picked up a thing or two about the relationship between poker and life as I have travailed the ups and downs of tournament play with Stan…figuratively speaking of course.

1. Believe in luck

Yeah, you need mad skills to be good at poker, but there is most definitely some degree of luck involved. Stan’s may come in the form of something hot and sickly sweet but whatever makes you feel good/lucky in life that gives you an edge, go for it. Don’t let anyone ever take it away from you. I cannot tell you how many detours to Krispy Kreme we have made through the years. I personally would choose something that can’t be inhaled in less than 30 seconds, but welcome to #lifewithstan.

2.  Age is just a numberWhile Stan may have been the “young whippersnapper” in the crowd, our society, for the most part, considers him “old”. However, I choose to believe he never would have had the stamina to be at WSOP if he let his chronological age dictate his behavior.  Same goes for this guy, Russell Moncrief.

He may have motored around the Rio Hotel and Casino in a scooter but still, come on…HE IS 92 AND COMPETING IN WSOP!!!

3. Take chancesPoker is not for the faint at heart and walking into a giant room of approximately 1500 people can be intimidating, but if you aren’t willing to “go all in” every once in awhile you will never win whether at poker or life in general. Stan is a gambler by all counts. Seriously, he left a very safe job 21 years ago and started OJ Mortgage. Trust me, the mortgage industry is not a safe bet by any stretch of the imagination.

If you’ve read this far and were waiting for me to announce that Stan even got through the first day, sorry to disappoint. I received this text about 6 hours into play.

 

I spent the next 45 minutes on the phone with him doing some consoling but mostly trying to get him on a flight home the next day. No sense in continuing to put salt on that WSOP wound. Besides, this adorable thing was waiting for him at home…

What better consolation prize could a person ask for?

That’s it for now…#BlackerOut !

 

Proud to be joining this week’s #MidlifeLuv Linkup hosted by Kimberly Montgomery of Fifty Jewels and Elena of Living With Batman. Check it out…I promise it won’t hurt 🙂

The Land of Love: Where Kitschy Meets Marketing Genius

My husband reads our local newspaper every day as part of his two hour morning ritual and will sometimes leave articles on our kitchen counter for me to read that he thinks I should see, including the occasional obituary.

A few weeks ago I found this one, circled and with arrows pointing to the specific article of interest…

Why? Well, we need to go back to the summer of 2003 when my daughter spent her first of many summers at a sleep away camp in the Poconos and my son went to one in the Berkshires…2 states and 3 mountain ranges away…and, of course, his visiting day was the same day as hers.

Seriously, why should anything in life ever be simple? It’s so much more “interesting” to be challenged by these kind of logistics right?

Side note: Both camps had an “alternate” visiting day on Sunday, mostly for divorced parents who didn’t want to share the few hours with their children. And while I was divorced by the time my kids started going to camp, the alternate days for us were especially important because of the distance between the two camps. Why were they in 2 different states? Sigh…we’ll have to have a few cocktails one day to get to that story.

Anyway, for anyone that has ever tried to get a hotel during a camp visiting day weekend, you know the rates are usually at least double and, oh, there are 3 night minimum stays.

So call me crazy but…I didn’t need want to spend 3 nights in either location. I wanted to leave Tampa on Friday morning and return Sunday night.

And not spend thousands of dollars in the process.

Apparently, I was somewhat delusional.

Ok, wait, we’ve already determined I am crazy so I guess delusional isn’t much of a stretch.

The first year I literally spent months combing the internet for reasonable multi city airfare (arrive in Scranton…yes Scranton…on Friday and leave from Hartford…not as bad as Scranton but still…on Sunday) plus hotels with no minimums and a car rental that didn’t charge a ridiculous fee for dropping off in a different city than the one picking up.

Gotta love supply and demand economics!

Finally, I came across what was at the time a Sheraton about 30 minutes from my daughter’s camp through Orbitz that didn’t have any restrictions whatsoever and was very reasonably priced.

Only one room left…I didn’t even bother looking at the hotel’s website and grabbed it before it was gone as quickly as it had magically appeared. I’ve stayed in enough Sheratons, Holiday Inns, Hiltons and Marriotts off various highways and they are all pretty much the same.

Yeah, well, the hotel I reserved, Cove Haven on Lake Wallenpaupack in Lakeville, PA, clearly was the exception to that little rule.

Unbeknownst to me, I had reserved a suite at a place referred to as “The Land of Love”, one of the infamous Poconos resorts that was/is advertised incessantly on Northeast radio and television as a “blend of romance and recreation”, complete with…

silo-like rooms (meaning no windows)
round beds (uh…not at all practical for my 6’4″ husband)
mirrored ceilings (OMG)
glass enclosed individual indoor heated heart shaped pools (aka giant germ/disease tanks)
and, yes,  a seven-foot champagne glass whirlpool bath-for-two complete with celestial ceiling (I thought they were a myth..I was so wrong)

At the reception area, they advised us that “Betrothed Badminton” was starting in 10 minutes to be followed by “Cupid’s Archery” and then some name for the cocktail hour I have obviously blocked from my memory.

I had entered hell.

My then fiance now husband, Stan, was in heaven.

Honestly, I love the big guy but I have never known anyone more attracted to cheesy stuff like this than him. He actually proposed to me in the Viva Las Vegas Wedding Chapel complete with an Elvis impersonator so Cove Haven had him written all over it. 

Me, not so much. Truth be told, not at all.

It was going to be the longest 16 hours of my life…8 of them hopefully sleeping…before leaving at 8 am the next morning for visiting day #1.

“What time would you like the photographer to come to your room to take the photos of the two of you in your champagne glass bath?” asked the front desk clerk.

“Not necessary,” I said.

“What do you mean?” said Stan, looking extremely surprised that I didn’t want a complete stranger in our room taking pictures of us  in a bathtub. “Come on babe, it’ll make for a great memory.”

“I’m good,” I said. I already had plenty of images from this place permanently seared on my brain and we hadn’t even left the reception area.

FYI…searching for a photo of the champagne glass tub that was “free to use for commercial purposes” you will find some very interesting ones.  The one above was the least creepy one I could find.

Look, no disrespect to anyone who has stayed in one of these resorts and thought it was awesome. It just isn’t for me. But I will give Stan major props for making me laugh…A LOT…during our brief stay.

More importantly, I really do admire, Morris Wilkins, for taking a vision, no matter how kitschy, and making it come to life. A former electrician, he took over ownership of what was then called the Hotel Pocopaupack in 1958 and renamed it Cove Haven. For the next few years it was just another couples-only hotel until he came up with the idea for the heart-shaped tub, followed by the champagne glass one and both truly put the Poconos on the map as a modern honeymoon and romantic getaway destination.

Despite several more years of visiting day weekends, we never returned to Coven Haven (please tell me you aren’t surprised).  I did, however, feel a bit nostalgic when I read that Mr. Wilkins had passed away a few weeks ago at the age of 90 and found the one photo I did allow to be taken while there. I wonder if they would want it for their marketing materials?

Then again, we probably have on way too much clothing for their needs.

That’s it for now…#BlackerOut!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Technology IS The Devil…And The Reason For Vodka!

In the past few weeks I have gone through a technology meltdown. And that means I drank a lot of vodka. Hey, don’t judge…we all have our vices. Mine just happens to be something with a splash of cranberry juice.

So what drove me to drink? My computer, cell phone and two tablets all acting wonky, not to mention the Bluetooth in my car for whatever reason pairing my cell phone for calls but not media. I know, that’s not an end of the world problem but I use my time in the car to catch up on podcasts about business related stuff. (My favorite you ask? Biz Women Rock)

Fortunately, I have a great computer guy who got my laptop back to “I can tolerate this” status. I don’t expect miracles, but I do think it still deserves a shoutout for Carlos and Ivonne at Fix My Computer On Site here in Tampa. Contact them…seriously, they will not disappoint. They didn’t pay me for this endorsement, I just think they are really awesome.

My phone carrier and car dealership…well, that’s a different story. No reason to even mention any names…the last time I did that I got banned from an entire cruise line.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not afraid to name names, I just feel like what’s the point? When it comes to technology, all manufacturers and service providers, in my opinion, are the devil and we have all sold our souls to them by constantly buying their products and signing up for their services.

So call me crazy but…I hate technology. That said, I know it is a necessary evil in our lives and we’ll never be able to turn back the hands of Steve Jobs time on this earth… may he RIP. But when things seem to be temporarily (fingers crossed) hurting more than helping, I have to stop and rant take a breath.

Easier said than done especially after spending 3 hours at the dealership and 5 hours at the phone carrier tech support center over the span of 2 days plus about 2 hours back and forth on the phone with customer service calls. Oh and everyone was pointing the finger at each other so, yeah, that is always fun.

Truth be told, I have no one to blame but myself. I am way too reliant on all of this stuff and I think I want out

…as I sit here typing this blog

…on my laptop

…that I’ll then upload to my website

…using Wifi

…and disseminate across social media channels

…undoubtedly via mobile devices

Meh…

Honestly, what’s a girl mature woman person to do? I mean is it really too much to ask that if I spend hundreds of dollars on a device or thousands of dollars on a car that they work properly?

#rhetoricalquestion

I haven’t resolved my tablets issues…more than likely I will have to bite the bullet and get another one. I can understand, sort of, replacing the one that’s 3 1/2 years old. It’s slow, painfully slow, and although I am relatively certain that the powers that be in Silicon Valley and across Asia are laughing their corporate tushies off all the way to the bank, I guess this is the price I will have to pay for going down the technology rabbit hole again and again and again.

The other tablet? That was kind of a freebie when I switched carriers last year so I’m trying not to stress about that one. But still…I need to “wipe the cache partition” whatever that means. I tried following the instructions for doing it via a Google search but pressing MENU+VOLUME UP+POWER all at the same time requires, as one of my friends commented, #octopushands.

Meanwhile, the phone – Bluetooth pairing issue? Well, that all started because I thought my former phone screen had cracked and I replaced it using my insurance policy.

Note to self: If your phone has a protective hard plastic clear cover it will, believe it or not, actually protect your phone screen. Good idea to check that’s what cracked before paying the $100 deductible for a new phone.

#IAmAnIdiot

Anyway, the new phone was an upgrade so bigger, faster, better, right?

Sure, but apparently only if you get a new car to go with it…or maybe the user just doesn’t know what she is doing???

I stopped at the dealership and asked if they could just pair it back up. There must be a step I was forgetting.

The old phone Bluetooth pairing worked just fine but the car dealership guy said it had to be a new phone issue and sent me to the phone carrier tech support center. They supposedly tried everything and deduced that the car’s Bluetooth software needed an update and sent me back to the dealership.

Ugh…

The car dealership looked at me like I had 8 heads when I walked in again and told them what the phone carrier said.  Hey, I already need 8 arms so maybe 8 heads will be the answer to my technology woes?

They took the keys and about 2 hours later had me go out to the area where 100 other cars were being serviced, lowered my car down on the lift thingy, told me to get in the driver’s seat and the car tech got into the passenger seat. He wanted to show me that his phone paired fine.

Ummmm…so how exactly does that help me?

After sitting out in a very hot garage for about 45 minutes with the guy pushing a bunch of buttons,  nothing was coming out of my phone through the car speakers. My makeup was melting off my face and I was sweating through my carefully chosen dress for an event that I was attending that afternoon. I was done, reminding myself that my car lease is up this summer and this problem will hopefully resolve itself when I do, in fact, spend thousands getting a new car. 

I left the dealership and about a mile later there was sound coming from my car speakers via my phone Bluetooth connection.

Don’t know how, don’t really care. I just went home and poured myself a vodka on the rocks to celebrate a small success for the day and maybe earning 1 or 2 points on the scoreboard of #firstworldproblems.

That’s it for now…#BlackerOut !

Happy 420

Unless you were hiding under a rock through your teen years, you kind of know what today is right?

Yeah, it’s the day when stoners unite.

Wait, what? They only do that one day a year?

Well, that’s not true but April 20th does have significance to those that do partake.

You don’t know the history? Well, the true “birth” of 420 (as in four-twenty, not four hundred and twenty) apparently dates back to the early 1970s when a group of high school students in San Rafael, CA headed to a certain spot on their campus to indulge in a little “afterschool activity” at, you guessed it, 4:20 pm.

It soon became the code for getting high, quickly spreading around the country in the form of hemp fest celebrations on the corresponding calendar date, 4-20, creating giant cannabis clouds of smoke throughout the land…

And now you know…you’re welcome?????

So I’m guessing this will be a relatively popular choice of ice cream today.

My local grocery store thinks the FroYo version (on the left) is the “better choice”. I guess they are concerned about calorie and fat counts, but I’m not sure anyone celebrating today is worried about their diet whether half or fully baked.

That’s it for now…#BlackerOut!