June 04, 2004
Referring to Pocket Queens as "Sigfried and Roy," However, is a Trend that Will Never Die
Yes, I have joined the legions of young ne'er-do-wells who have become addicted to Texas Hold-'Em. I've been spending vast swaths of my weekends -- Thursday, Friday, Saturday nights -- in marathon ten dollar buy-in games, mostly with folks I know from Covenant. (John Calvin spins silently in his grave.) Last night, after my best night of winning (I cleaned out the table; took $20), I was trying to explain to fellow Hold-'Em addict Josiah why I play: something about needing to prove myself at a game that holds so much symbolism as a mark of the adult male world, but values brains over biceps.
And then today I discover some Washington Monthly essayist has already pegged me: "It makes sense that today's college-educated young adults, especially young men, choose poker. Strategy-oriented, individualistic and embedded in a nice masculine mythology, poker is the perfect game for the revenge-of-the-nerds generation looking to square their intelligence with their inner maleness."
Meanwhile, a Slate piece notes that the Hold-'Em fad is dilluting the quality of play at the World Series of Poker -- and making it harder for the best players to wade through the sea of neophytes. Consider that, as I head out to find my inner maleness. And lose 10 dollars.
June 03, 2004
Perhaps It Would Be Best Not To Serve Cake on David Tidmarsh's Ride Home
This kid has just triumphed in the National Spelling Bee, after conquering the word "autochthonous," which apparently means indigenous. Which has always been my sole gripe with the whole spelling bee gig: most of these big words are merely exact substitutes for more managable ones. Why do we need "autochthonous"? Why not just say "indigenous"? It's not like there's been a big outcry against "indigenous," right? Has anyone found "indigenous" somehow unclear? When was the last time you were examining a piece or fauna, or a Native American, and thought to yourself, "This flower and/or Native American is definitely indigenous, but, really, it's so much more than that"? But anyway, mad props to David Tidmarsh.
Hopefully he will behave better in victory than the 1986 New York Mets. Even though he is a 14-year-old boy, I like his chances: a hilarious Jeff Pearlman article recounts the Mets' total destruction of a charter plane on the return flight from their NLCS win over Houston. Players downed bottles of Champagne, their wives vomited into seat pockets -- and then the flight attendents made a tragic mistake:
"For the first hour the all-out partying was little more than drinking and yelling. But then, the United crew committed the ultimate mid-celebration error: They served cake. It was the kind you see at childhood birthday parties -- spongy yellow with chocolate icing on top. The flight attendants distributed a piece to every person on the flight. [Batboy Michael] Ruffino remembers sitting in his seat and biting into his piece when -- Whoooosh! Splat!"