Blogs are Educational

Good morning class. Today we are going to learn two new words. Are you ready? I knew you were. Our first word of the day is:

Pneumoconiosis

Can you say, “pneumoconiosis?” Good! I bet you want to know what it means, right? Well open a dictionary and look it up you lazy piece of sh… Sorry. This is supposed to be educational, so I just tell you. Pneumoconiosis is an occupational lung disease caused by the inhalation of dust. The type of dust determines the type of disease. You may have heard of Coal Workers Lung (Black Lung), Asbestosis, or Silicosis. There is another type of pneumoconiosis and it comes from sand. That’s right, just like the kind you get in a desert. Like in Iraq. In the average year, a person in Iraq will inhale the equivalent of ½ to 1 cup of sand. Some are lucky and breathe it right back out. Others are not so lucky and have lung changes that never go away. Ever. How do we know who gets sick and who doesn’t? We don’t. Smokers have a worse time clearing their lungs (thank God I never smoked), but sometimes otherwise perfectly healthy people are forever changed by exposure to this much dust. Could you wear some sort of protective mask, you ask? I guess, but it’s hard enough to breathe in this heat, and the type of HEPA mask necessary to block out this kind of dust isn’t readily available, and probably wouldn’t be used if it was.

Our next word is:

Leishmaniasis

Can you say... aw fuck it. I tell you about this one, too. This is a particularly nasty disease that is transmitted by the bite of certain species of sand fly. In the US, we call them no-see-ums, and they are merely annoying. Here in Iraq we call them “Those damned little pieces of shit that you never see bite you but leave a mark exactly like a fire ant bite.” If you’ve never had a fire ant bite, ask a Texan or Floridian about them. That’s right - flying fire ants! Hoo-ah! When you get the disease here, it even earned its own cool nickname, “The Baghdad boil.” How cute!

In tomorrows class we’ll discuss shoving a hot poker up your ass. It’s just as fun as these diseases, but you never have to leave home!

The People in My Neighborhood

War brings together some interesting folks. I'm beginning to think M*A*S*H was a lot closer to the truth, at least when it comes to Health Care Professionals in combat. Let me introduce you to:

The Dietician – My breakfast companion. I had gotten used to her minor complaints about Life, the Universe and Everything, when she hit me with this doozy. She casually mentions that in two more years, she won't have to take a PT test. Huh? I've never heard of such a regulation. Yup, she replies. When you hit 60, the Army no longer requires a physical training evaluation. What?! That's right, folks. She's an Active Duty Lieutenant Colonel at 58 years old. Shit – she's old enough to be my mother, and she's earned the right to bitch a little.

The Internist – He's a great guy who acknowledges he's out of his element. You see, he's a Rheumatologist, but on the "Big List of Army Doctors," that's pretty much kinda like an Internist. So, guess what? Welcome to combat! Here are your really sick patients. Good luck. Still, he's turning out to be a good caring doc, and that's more than our detainee population could ask for.

The Surgeon – The guy he replaced said to him, "Look. I'll be around for a couple of days while you are getting settled. If you get a really complicated case in the OR… good luck. Don't fuckin' call me, 'cause I'm going home." It was said tongue in cheek (I think), but he's now "the man" when it comes to any General Surgery needs. I asked him if he felt prepared for the carnage he's seen over the last month, and he quickly said, "Absolutely not." Still, I've seen his work, and I'd let him do my appendectomy. I can't say that about a lot of surgeons I've met.

The Psychiatrist – She must have the toughest job in theater (aside from our young heroes who have to do all the shooting). She has to minister to the mental health needs of a detainee population that DON'T SPEAK THE SAME LANGUAGE. I can't imagine how difficult that must be. On top of that, the soldier suicide rate is up and her boss is a workaholic social worker who insists that she just sit around waiting long into the evening for patients that have never shown up. Not once. How she manages to maintain a smile is beyond me.

The Deputy Commander – This is my boss, and you couldn't ask for someone better. He won't read this so you don't have to worry that I'm sucking-up. He really cares about his docs and will go to bat for us in a heartbeat. I really like his honesty, too. All the doctors meet once a week so he can put out information. He admitted to us that he was a little down in the dumps. You see, I am here as a six-month rotator. He's here for the full 15 months. He was okay with it, but the 1st six-month rotators just left, and it forced him to realize that he still has 9 more months to go. During that time, he'll have to say goodbye to the NEXT group of six-month rotators (my group).

The Commander – Interesting guy. Kind of a Renaissance Man. I mentioned to you all that I took 2nd place in the Tuesday night chess tournament. He took first. Kicked my ass all over the chessboard. Turns out that at one time he was rated at 1900. That puts him right about Grand Master territory. I'm just above average and never stood a chance. Of course, right after that, he kicked my ass at ping pong, too. Well, I'm younger and better looking, dammit (well, at least I'm younger)!

We are a motley group, but a damn good one if I do say so myself. I wonder what they'd have to say about me if they were so blog-inclined.

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Convoy Training

3 OCT 07

If you’ve ever spent any time on a military installation, you’ve seen convoys. It seems like all the Army ever does is “convoy training.” Line ‘em up. Drive ‘round in circles. Come back. Do it again tomorrow.

Tonight, as I walked back from the Tuesday night chess tournament (2nd place), I had to stop for a bunch of idiots doing nighttime convoy training. Six Strikers (which, by the way, are very impressive at night) crossed right in front of me, otherwise disturbing the peaceful walk back to my hooch.

It wasn’t until they passed and I walked about 200 yards that I realized something. They weren’t convoy training, you idiot. This is war. This was for real. These young soldiers were headed out on a mission to catch bad guys.

God bless ‘em.

Now, please take a moment and head over to The Wife. What started out as yet another “here’s a cute guy that isn’t my husband” post (I thought) quickly morphed into a love so fierce I often wonder if I’m worthy.

Iraq Pic Dump

2 OCT 07

My good friend Dr. Pauly made me promise to take pictures of Iraq. It’s pretty dreary here, but these should give you some idea of my surroundings. Unfortunately, I can’t take pictures of where they keep the prisoners, but it pretty much looks exactly like where I live, just with some barbed wire and guards over the concrete barriers.

Here is the open bay I stayed in while at Camp Buehring, Kuwait. This place was purgatory. We were all begging to get into Iraq ASAP just to get out of there.

I finally moved out of the 20-man tent into my own room. The Ferrari screen saver brightens up the place a bit. So does the sweet carpet the last guy sold to me for ¼ the price.

This is the view out my door. The list on the wall was also left by the last guy, but I find it handy, so I left it.

And this is my “street.” There are literally hundreds of trailers behind these walls, each divided into 3 rooms, most of which contain at least 2 people. I’m thankful every day I don’t have to share my 12 x 12 “hooch” with another slob like me.

This Message Brought to You by M*A*S*H

30 SEP 07

As many of you have guessed, my internet posting is not regular. It’s not for lack of material. Unfortunately, the “powers that be” shut down our access periodically. It’s one of the many things I can’t write about (for now).

Since I don’t know how long my connection will be up this time, I just wanted to share something quick. I used to watch the TV show M*A*S*H all the time. I always cracked up when Big Army did something really illogical. Surely that can’t happen in real life?

Every day I walk to work, I have to pass through a metal detector. No biggie, right? Except, I’m always armed with a 9mm Beretta with live ammunition.

It never fails to crack me up.

Now, if you want some poker-y goodness, head on over to The Wife. She’s blogging her ass off.

Oh yeah, I meant to add this to my post about the 10 year old Iraqi kid who wanted me dead. Here is my 10 year old son.

Dr. Chako = Dr. Zhivago?

27 Sep 07

I'm running on the treadmill in the gym near the hospital, and Armed Forces Network is showing Dr. Zhivago. It's the original movie version with Omar Sharif. Too much wistful longing for my taste, but it's a decent war movie from a personal standpoint, which I think was Boris Pasternak's intention.

The scene I'm watching shows the Russians opening up the Gatlin gun on a bunch of white-clad "soldiers" running away. The weapon is quite effective and mows them down in no time. Off they go to survey the damage, only to find out it's a bunch of kids they shot up.

**

My oldest son is ten. He is awesome. Good looking, bright, fun, enthusiastic. He's good at sports and loves to draw. Tonight he told me about his campaign to run for school Secretary. Win or lose, he certainly has spent a lot of time preparing.

**

Back in the hospital now. I'm looking at an x-ray of feet. They are shot all to hell. But something is different.

It's a kid.

So, I walk down to the Emergency Room to find out what's up. Sure enough, there is a ten year old Iraqi kid looking scared to death. He's got bandages everywhere and our medics and docs are doing their usual outstanding job taking care of him. One of the docs comes over to tell me the rest of the story.

Our soldiers shot him. A lot. They caught him red-handed placing an Improvised Explosive Device (IED).

10-fucking-years-old.

Night Life in Iraq

25 Sep 07

When we last left our hero, he was taking combat showers at work and stamping out disease and pestilence. Now it's time to let loose. But first, we have to get home.

1600 (or 4 pm for you non-military minded) – Grab my laundry bag and head out. Since I workout every day, I keep PT (exercise) clothes at work. The good news is that laundry is free and they do it for you. It's only about 150 yards from the hospital and it's right on my way back to tent city. Of course, I arrive at the facility drenched in sweat. Did I mention it gets hot here?

1630 I finally get back to the tent and take some time to cool off. Thanks to good Army ingenuity, there are bottles of drinking water everywhere and it's quite good. Most of the time it's refrigerated – just not in the tent. That's okay. The tents are air conditioned and even at room temperature, the water always tastes good. Now I usually read a book and, if it's working, I fire up the laptop and surf a little. I even have my MP3 player, although I don't use it often. I'm still not happy with the earpiece situation. Maybe my ear canals are built funny, but I still haven't found a good ear piece. Oh well.

1730 Off to chow. Yet another good meal. Since I began my workout routine, I have almost completely skipped deserts. I'll occasionally have a bag of chips, but no pastries or baked goods. They have a cheesecake and a chocolate layer cake that looks awesome. I've decided to diet Body-for-Life style and only eat desert only one day a week.

1830 Now comes the hard part. How do you fill large blocks of free time? If it's like last night, you go back to the hospital because some young soldier is having pelvic pain and needs an ultrasound. Usually my nights are free. Wednesday and Saturday are poker nights. The other nights are generally spent in the MWR tents (Morale, Welfare and Recreation) watching TV, movies and even playing video games. Some wonderful folks in the states donated hundreds of X-Boxes, Playstations and even a bunch of Wiis so soldiers won't get bored. There are a bunch of people playing chess and dominoes. I've even found a few guitar players! I already have a few soldiers asking me for lessons. I used to give lessons in college, so this should be a nice way to pass the time.

2200 Bed time. Tomorrow it's just wash, rinse and repeat. There are no days off in Iraq. Tuesday is just like Sunday. You mark the passage of time by events. Wednesdays and Sundays are easy because those are poker nights. Some people choose to live holiday to holiday. I've come up with a few other ways to mark the days.

13 more haircuts (I get mine cut every 2 weeks) or
26 more weapon inspections or
51 more poker games or
179 more days or
4322 more hours or
258,385 more minutes

That's about it. It's not a bad life. It would be even better if it weren't for those pesky bad guys.

WORK!

Editors Note: I'm still having internet issues, so I'm emailing my posts to "The Wife," and she's putting them up. This is the second of 3 installments about my "Typical Day in Iraq." As soon as you are done, head on over to The Wife's new blog http://thewife-herside.blogspot.com/. If you know anyone who's been deployed, you know it's always tougher on those left at home, but she handles it with courage and candor. If you like what I'm doing here, you'll love it over there. Just remember, if you like her blog better than mine, keep it to yourself. - DrC

Continuing on my "typical day in Iraq" theme, I am now headed to work.

0645 I leave the chow hall and start the trek to the hospital. I live and eat on one camp, but I work on a different camp. Both camps (and many others) are contained within the larger Victory Base Complex you may have heard about recently on the news. Now comes the saluting. I am a Lieutenant Colonel, and I outrank just about everyone here, so everyone I walk past has to salute me. It's pretty cool, but to be honest it can get a little old. Still, I remember saluting everyone in sight when I was a Private First Class, so this is a nice turn around.

0700 I arrive at Camp Cropper and show my special ID to the gate guard. This takes me right past the "Do Not Enter – Deadly Force Authorized" sign. I usually check twice before I leave to make sure I have the proper ID.

0710 Finally, I'm at the hospital. My sand colored boots are now covered in actual sand, as is much of my lower uniform. It won't be until later that the sand has managed to find its way into my shirt, face, hat and hair. Ah yes, air conditioning!

0720 to 0800 – Now it's boring stuff. I catch up on emails, check in with the techs and get a report of radiology studies waiting to be read. Because of the miracles of the internet, I am the sole radiologist for 5 different facilities, 3 of which have radiology capability (the rest just send their patients over to us).

0800 to ? Now I'm ready to work. I read every study until the worklists are clean. It's usually between 100 and 150 exams. By contrast, I usually read 40 to 50 studies per day at Madigan back in Washington. The work is usually not as challenging (or time consuming) as back home, but it's important. Detainee health care may not sound glamorous, but patients are patients (regardless of their personal or political beliefs), and I'm here to help.

Somewhere in there, I go to the gym, and eat a little snack. In fact, I just got back from the gym, but I'm waiting to cool off before taking another combat shower here in the hospital.

Tomorrow: NIGHT LIFE!

My Typical Day in Iraq

20 Sep 07

In response to loyal reader Sean (AKA Instant Tragedy), here is my typical day. Please excuse the military times. I can't help it.

0500 I wake up in my 20 person tent. The lights remain off until 0730, so I have to do everything in the dark. I sleep in PT clothes (Army t-shirt and shorts), and as I climb out of my sleeping bag, I slip on my shower shoes. I have a little flashlight near the bed that I use to find the towel and hygiene kit from my duffel bag and I trudge my way to the latrine.

0505 The latrine is about 150 yards away. I walk out of my tent and stumble over stones and sand. There are these huge concrete T-walls for force protection and they keep out much of the light from surrounding compounds, but the moon is often bright enough to light the way. I arrive at the portapotty and take care of business before going next door to the shower.

0510 There are 6 small shower stalls and six adjacent sinks (try saying that 5 times fast). I have my electric razor charged up, so I do a quick shave and brush my teeth before taking a "combat shower."

0520 Each soldier is allotted 15 gallons a day for personal hygiene, including flushing the toilets and taking showers. They way this works is we turn on the water and get wet. As soon as we are wet, we turn off the water and lather up. On again comes the water and we turn it off again as soon as all the soap is off.

0525 Band-Aid change. I got a smallpox vaccination before coming and it takes about 3 weeks to heal. At least the intense itching, which lasted about a week, has mostly subsided. I change the dressing and carefully discard it before washing my hands again. There is still a live virus on the band-aid and scab, so you have to be really careful.

0530 Back in my PT clothes and shower shoes and stumble back to the tent.

0545 Now I use the flashlight to change into my Army ACU's, or my desert camoflague. It's long pants, long sleeves, boots and a hat. On top of that, I strap on my 9mm Beretta pistol and I'm off to chow.

0600 The dining facility has a sign out front. I'm not allowed to take a picture for security reasons, but it reads:

NO WEAPON
NO ENTRY
NO EXCEPTIONS !

I show my ID and get in for a really good meal. They serve over 27,000 meals per day in this one facility, and they do an incredible job.

0645 After a leisurely breakfast, I ready myself for the one mile walk to work. It's cool in the morning, somewhere in the middle to high 80's, so it's a nice walk. The walk home won't be nearly as much fun.

Tomorrow: WORK!

Greetings from Iraq!

17 Sep 07

I’m on the ground and running full speed. In this case, full speed is about 2 MPH. It’s hot here. Have I mentioned that? I’m reminded of a line from Biloxi Blues, “It’s Africa hot. Tarzan couldn’t take that kind of hot.” The day I arrived in Kuwait it was 120 degrees. Most days have been between 110 and 116. Night time is much better. 90 degrees feels positively balmy.

I learned something recently - jet lag sucks. The rule of thumb is it takes one day to adjust for every hour of time difference. Right now we are 11 hours ahead of the West Coast, so it’s supposed to take 11 days to adjust. I’m waking up at all hours of the night (and day). Actually, last night was my first night of good sleep. It’s probably because I kicked ass in the local poker game. We played 4 tournaments and I took one 1st place, one 2nd place and two 3rd places. My one win came in the final game where I was “heads-up” against my old boss Dr. Steve, and I busted him up real good. He was still all smiles because he knows that I won the battle, but he wins the war – he gets to go back home to the states in a few days.

For now, be well. I’ll post again soon.

What, No Lobster?

14 Sep 07

Well folks, I’m finally here in Iraq. I’ll have tons of stuff to tell you about in the coming weeks and months. Unfortunately, until I get my new laptop battery I am a bit handcuffed by time limitations.

Leaving a crying family at the airport was every bit as hard as you might imagine. The image of them huddled together for comfort stayed with me throughout the flight, and really through the two weeks I’ve been gone. It’s better today because I finally got my webcam working and I got to see smiles instead of tears. The connection is a little bit slow – it’s been likened to talking with the space shuttle. That’s appropriate because the landscape here in Baghdad is a lot like what I imagine the moon to be.

We started a list called, “You Know You Are Deployed in Iraq When…” The first entry is “when you get out of the shower and still have sand in every orifice in your body.”

I’ll have some pics in the coming days. For now, I want to explain the title of this post. He actually said, “What, no lobster? This is such bullshit!” This was a line spoken by a soldier in front of me at the dining facility. You may think he was joking, but it was spoken in all sincerity. Every Friday night is steak and lobster night here on Camp Striker. Since there was no lobster, I had to settle for King Crab legs. They were scrumptious. People give a lot of shit to Halliburton, but if I’m not mistaken, they are the parent company of KBR which handles our food. Nothing improves morale like good chow.

Finally, thanks for all your support for me and “The Wife” during these trying times. You may not think so, but your comments mean a lot. It’s like a little internet “care package.”

Touchdown, Safe and Sound

Guest post, courtesy of The Wife:

Short one today, friends. Just a quick note to say the good Dr. called yesterday (at 2:30 a.m., his time) to say he's now in country. Wish him well.

Godspeed you home, my love.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Close, but not quite . . .

Guest post, courtesy of The Wife:

Today, lucky readers, is a special-double-bonus day for you all. You have the extreme privilege of reading DrChako's blog with both my special insights and editorial prowess (*chuckle*), as well as having ACTUAL comments and insights from the man himself. Yes, my beloved Dr. is on the ground in Kuwait, awaiting the next transport into his final duty station in our favorite four-letter word - Iraq.

So without further delay, some of his poignant observations . . .

Well, here I am in Kuwait. This place is purgatory. I can't believe people are actually stationed here. I'm certain this place looks just like Baghdad, but it's considered non-hazardous duty. The way i figure it, if you are coming all this way, might as well go the extra 100 miles north and be able to say "I was there, dude!"

Training today was a bust. We went to the range at 4 am and fired 5 familiarization shots. What a waste. If I'm getting up that early, let me shoot a whole bunch, dammit. . . .

Yesterday the power went out in our tent. We were in total darkness and within 10 minutes the temperature equaled and then surpassed the outside temperature of 120 degrees. How do natives live in this shit?! . . .

Now I have to gear myself up for taking a dump in a portapotty. It's 120 outside right now, which means it's 140 in the potty. Wish me luck.

OK . . . the portapotty might have been a little TMI . . . but you get the picture. I guess it's standard military - hurry up and wait. Too bad our poor Dr. has to do his waiting there. Wonder why they don't stage them out of Hawaii or something like that. I bet military recruitment would get a big boost if people knew that a deployment would be bookended with a bunch of training on a balmy 90 degree beach with girls in bikinis. I know I'm only a CPA, but I'm trying to think outside the box.

So again, thanks from both of us for your kind thoughts and wishes - keep the posts coming, and in addition to keeping the home fires burning, I'll keep the blog fires burning for the man. Special thanks to Sean, for being MY most regular reader and commentor in my short time as the Dr.'s voice. And thanks, Amy C, for the vote of confidence on the blog . . . just trying to keep the Dr.'s readers informed, but might have to think about my own!

For some of our friends out there, L'shanah Tovah! If you have to ask what it means, google Judaism 101 - I'm sure its at least as educational as anything you're reading here.

Later this week, some obligatory poker content. Or maybe the video of Son #2 "Mutton-Bustin'" . . .

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Houston, we have lift off . . .

Guest post, courtesy of The Wife . . .

To DrChako's fellow bloggers, poker pals, and other loyal friends and readers, I post tonight to let you know he's taken the next step in our latest reality show. Several hours ago, he called me from Bangor, Maine to let me know he would soon be on his way to the big sandbox across the sea. As I type, he is likely somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, so thoughts and prayers for a safe flight. I am sure he will send a post for me soon; suffice it to say that he was in the best mood possible for a man about to go to war. Or maybe that was just to keep me from crying.

He did tell me that at the Bangor airport, the troops were met by volunteer veterans (up way past any normal person's bedtime) just there to shake our soldier's hands and wish them well on their journey. I guess that's the great part about being an American - we can criticize the politics behind this war every day in our news, and yet a group of aging veterans will drag themselves to an airport at 11:00 p.m. at night to wish people they don't know a safe journey. Small things tend to restore my wavering faith in humanity these days.

Technically, this is a poker blog, not a place for me to be maudlin. I'll save that for another blog I'm cooking up in my head - "Sending Your Spouse to War Sucks." So with that in mind, here is some obligatory poker (sort of) content:

The good Dr. and I have two wonderful sons. One of Son #1's best traits is a natural curiousity and genuine interest in fully exploring a topic of interest. Son #1 is fascinated with DrChako's poker habit: he likes to watch our "no money, all glory" home matches head-to-head, comment on our online plays, and have DrChako share stories from the poker room. He's also my son, so he understands the importance of a dollar. He's fully aware that DrChako's bankroll is a negotiated amount that can only continue to exist through good play, as the accountant in me will not let large amounts of our hard-earned wages to be dropped in someone else's pockets.

Last weekend, Son#1 spent time with his buddy Ryan. Ryan's parents are divorced, so with all of the finagling that went on about whose house he would be at, Son #1 must have had the topic on his mind. So after dropping Ryan off, we drive home and Son #1 says "Mom, would you ever divorce Dad?"

What a loaded question. Of course, I jump quickly to say "Son, I love your father. You don't divorce people you love." He pressed on. "What would make you divorce him?" I calmly replied that it would take something pretty big. "Son, Daddy and I have fights, but we love each other. Grandma and Grandpa fight and they've been married 37 years! Daddy would have to do something really terrible for me to not love him enough to stay married to him." I figured this was good enough. I was wrong.

"I know!" Son #1 exclaimed. He feels pretty good about himself when he thinks he's figured it out. "I bet that if Dad gambled the house in a poker game, and lost it, then you'd probably divorce him."

For a 10-year old, he's got this woman pretty well figured-out!

Safe travels, dear Dr. . . . and to the rest of you, keep the comments coming. I think my periodic recaps of your comments (where he is at, the blog site has been blocked) do wonders for his spirits.

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

On his way . . .

As DrChako begins the labyrinth of deployment preparation at a far away location, and unable to post regularly, he has given me leave to guest post. Heretofore, I have been a mere snide comment or two in his posting history. Most of the time, I use my commentary to keep him honest, keep him humble, and poke a little fun. Today, I post in seriousness, as I truly love and miss my DrChako. So bear with me . . .

Friday, August 31, 2007

I'm convinced that poker players are an odd lot. Take no offense; being an occasional one myself, and being married to one DrChako, I speak from personal experience. However, in these last few days, as we have prepared to send the good Dr. off to serve in an unpopular war, in an unfriendly country, under the command of a man who has not gained the worldwide support he really needs to make this kind of action successful, I am thoroughly impressed with the support you have shown him through your words. While I know some of you know him more intimately (as some of his precious wages may have made their way into your pockets, at some point in time), a few of you may only know him through his words, and still you send your good wishes. You hearts are in the right place.

I fight a bit of self-pity; after all, I am losing my husband, my lover, my co-parent, and my best friend for a long time, with no certainty as to how frequently I will be able to communicate with him. However, I know spouses who have been without their loved ones for far longer; families for whom this is a second or third tour of duty; families without the support at work, the support of other friends and families, and without the financial resources to find ways to make this easier. So today, I ask not for myself, but for the good Dr. and others:

1. Keep him in your thoughts, as well as all those men and women (you too, Sis) who are just over there doing their jobs to the best of their ability, in a situation that can never match the frustrations, boredom, overtime, under appreciation, or office politics the rest of us endure in our jobs.

2. If you believe in prayer, then I welcome one on DrChako's behalf, in whatever form that comes, and to whichever being you believe watches over good people.

3. If you do not believe in prayer, then believe that on some level, our collective good wishes have to do him and others some good, somehow, so keep them coming.

4. Keep our oldest son in mind; he's been strong beyond belief, for a 10-year old, until last night when he broke down in tears. "I knew this day would come; I just knew it. I kept hoping that something would blow up all the bad people over there, so that Daddy wouldn't have to go!" Today he confessed to a family friend that he knew he was expected to be the man of the house and he wasn't sure how he was going to do that; think of him as he tries to determine if each day he needs to be 10, or 20.

5. Keep our youngest son in mind; he's not sure what this all means, but as we walked to the garage to take his father to the airport, he patted my back and said "Don't cry when Daddy leaves, ok?" When we left the airport, me with tears streaming down my face, he looked me in the eyes and said "If I hug you a lot, will that make you better?" He threw up in the car 3 blocks from the house (he gets carsick sometimes), and as I jumped out to clean things up, in total "mom" mode, my sadness momentarily averted, he cheerfully said "You sound much better now, Mom." He's only 4, but his heart is as big as anyones.

6. Keep in mind the front lines. DrChako is an officer; he'll be afforded conveniences others might not. No one is perfectly safe, but he's not going to be that scared 19 year-old guy who's tasked to go investigate the suspicious-looking package on the side of the road. If you know one of those guys, make sure you send HIM a few decks of cards, magazines, books, . . . anything to make it seem more like home.

7. Keep blogging. I have only met a few of you (alcanthang, drizz, Will Wheaton, DrPauly), but I know how much entertainment value you provide to DrChako, and how he lives vicariously through your escapades when he can't be there in Vegas with you. Keep giving him a little piece of your abnormal "normality"!

Now I'm sure I've got some accounting to do . . . so thanks for your kind words on my husband's behalf, and may your aces in the hole always hold up on the river!

Respectfully submitted,

The Wife

Daniel’s Broiler!

30 AUG 07

I really hadn’t intended on posting another blog until I got to Iraq, but this is way too cool. To celebrate my last good meal, my wife and I decided to go to our favorite restaurant in Washington – Daniel’s Broiler. It sits on the southern tip of Lake Union and has incredible views of enormous boats and beautiful homes. The food is always outstanding and their wine selection can’t be beat. I had a Red Diamond Cabernet and my wife had an Argentinean wine called a Malbeck (Malback?). It reminder her of a cab without the oak and it left a slight aftertaste that hinted of candy. Amazing.

Before the meal we sat at the bar. I had a Manhattan and my wife had a fruity drink with cranberry, pineapple and vanilla vodka. The piano player was out of this world. I requested Scenes from an Italian Restaurant and he knocked it out of the park.

The meal. Wow. Filet and lobster tail with asparagus and mushrooms. The mashed potatoes by themselves were worth the trip. Then came the first surprise – champagne and strawberries dipped in chocolate. We didn’t request desert, but it was really nice. I told them when I made the reservation that is was a special night.

Surprise #2 blew me away. We met with the manager, who knew that this was where I chose to have my last meal before leaving for Iraq. He thanked me for my service to our country in words and deeds.

“On the house.”

What?

That’s right – the whole thing was free. It was his way of thanking me and I was speechless. We overtipped our waiter, the piano player and the valet, of course. I just want to say a hearty THANK YOU to the folks at Daniel’s Broiler. Go there if you are ever in town.

I Wonder if He Left Already?

29 AUG 07

Nope folks, I’m still here. Sorry for the lack of posting, but it turns out there is a lot to do before you go to Iraq. I got all my shots this week. The Anthrax shot hurts like a bitch. There are actually 5 more Anthrax shots in my near future, too.

I updated my Will and completed 8 different general and special Powers of Attorney for my wife and family. I checked my glasses (it will be weird not wearing contacts – strictly verboten), and made sure I have special glasses that go into my gas mask, should the need arise.

This was strange. I had to fill out a form that gives someone information on my background like where I went to high school and what the mascot was. This presumably makes it easier to locate me if I’m captured. I even needed to come up with a “stress word.” I use it if I’m captured and unable to tell someone I’m under duress. I’m supposed to work it into casual conversation. It feels very James Bond. I have very strong doubts that the people who are attempting to free me will know where to find this information.

Now comes the hard part. My family is taking me to the airport in Seattle Friday morning. Goodbyes are tough. Thank goodness for my new webcam!

Happy Birthday, Son!

Sorry for the lack of posting. Things have been busy as I prepare to depart for Iraq. My son turned 10 today (Harry Chapin anyone?). When asked what he was getting for his birthday, he replied, “A Brazilian.”

Meet our new Brazilian Au Pair, Tatiane.



Happy birthday, son. I will think of this great day a lot when I’m “downrange.”

Who Are the People in Your Neighborhood?

16 AUG 07

I grew up with Mr. Rogers, and I can still hear him singing this ditty. I was singing it tonight in the casino as I waited to hear if my name was drawn for the $5000 per hour give away to frequent poker players (I wasn’t called). Here are the people in my neighborhood (the Muckleshoot casino).

Thousand Mile Stare

This guy was about 50, black and had an unlit cigarette jutting straight out from his lips. He was just coming into the casino as I was leaving and it was obvious that the lights and sounds triggered the correct Pavlovian response in his brain. He was home.

The Crying Lady

This was a white female with big hair in her mid-50s. What struck was that she was crying while coming INTO the casino from the parking lot. Away demons!

Hot Crossed Buns

This was the 20-something who was railbirding her boyfriend for the last 3 hours. She finally thought they were done, but as her tattooed honey was reaching for his 5th re-buy, she stormed out of the poker room. Play halted at every table she passed so the players could stare at her gloriousness. Remember guys, no matter how hot she is, someone, somewhere thinks she’s a bitch.

Dapper Floor Dude

Okay. This one was Ryan in his new role as floor walker. It’s actually a pay cut from dealing, but if that’s the price you pay to become a full-time dealer, so be it. I’m still waiting on some killer blog posts about your new role. Any good fights?

Generally Nice People

In a poker room? Is this possible? Actually, it is. Most dealers and many players know me and my story quite well. Tonight as I talked with Peter, Ryan, Heather (she’ll always be “Triple-H” to me), Mary, Dave and Judy I realized that good people are everywhere. They all wished me good luck and a safe return from Iraq.

Here’s hoping their wishes come true.

Fill in your Own Bad Beat Ending

12 Aug 07

First off, my last day of work was Friday. They put together a really nice pot luck and a lot of people said some really nice things about me. I was pretty overwhelmed. I didn’t get choked up like I’ve seen others do, but I did feel the gravity of the event.

I hope to continue blogging as I prepare to deploy to Iraq, and even when I get there. For now, I leave you with a cleverly disguised bad beat story.

I’m playing a $20 buy-in tournament. There are 45 players and it’s first round action. Two seats to my right is a young maniac who keeps saying, “It’s only $20. I’m all in.” He has been called three times and has shown 8 4, J 2 and the hammer (7 2 off suit)! He’s won all three.

Rather than go all in pre-flop, he chooses to call. I look down at pocket 5s and call as well. There is 300 in the pot. I have 800 behind. The flop is Q Q 4. He checks, I bet ½ the pot. He goes all in. I call, putting him on either nothing or the 4. Turns out it was nothing.

He turns over K 3 for king-high.

How did I get knocked out? I’ll tell you he didn’t spike a king or get running 3s.

HOPS and Hops and Closing Shop

10 AUG 07

I apologize for the title of this post. It made sense to me. Let’s see if I can make it make sense to you.

I was driving into work this morning and the announcer on NPR said there was a story coming up about how most hops in America originated in the Northwest. My military mind immediately thought of Air Force hops that take government personnel around the world at a discounted rate. When I found out the story was actually about beer, I laughed out loud.

You see, that’s how my mind is programmed. I’ve been in the military for almost 21 years. I don’t really even remember life “on the outside.”

That’s why today is so interesting and emotional. Today is my last day of work at Madigan Army Medical Center in Tacoma, Washington. I’m taking a couple days off before I start outprocessing (another military term) in preparation to go to Baghdad. As I’ve noted before, as soon as I get back from Iraq, I’ll begin outprocessing again – this time to get out of the Army for good.

I wonder how I’ll feel at this time next year when I’m no longer in the Army.

Penn and Teller Prove the Existence of Sheep

8 AUG 07

Watch this video. I totally would have signed. Not because I don’t know what the substance is (I AM a physician after all), but the petitioner is totally hot.

For my RSS readers, here is the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yi3erdgVVTw

Editors Note: It's a sad day folks. That lying cheat Barry Bonds broke the home run record. This is just one more reason why I am boycotting Major League Baseball. The world is looking at us, folks.

"Cheat to win." That's the message.

Poker Content!

3 AUG 07

An actual hand history. I’m pretty sure you won’t see this one on other blogs.

It’s 15/30 and an extremely loose table. 5 and 6 way action is the norm. The pattern is an early raise and multiple callers.

UTG, you look down at As-Jc. Not a great hand, so I can certainly understand the argument to throw this away, especially at this table. Figuring it’s the best hand, you raise to $30.

But wait! You totally forgot that this is a kill-pot. This next hand is 30/60, so all you did was call. Moron.

Now the table kicks into high gear. You get re-raised by a tight player and capped by the loosest player at the table. 3 more callers (all calling $240 cold!), and it gets back to you. You have to call three more bets here to see a flop ($180).

What do you do?

Follow up. The flop is 4c-4s-5c. What do you do now?

Minnesota Bridge Collapse

2 AUG 07

I’ve driven over this bridge a few times and never gave it a second thought.

My thoughts are with the unfortunate drivers now.

Thanks to conphoto for the great shots.

Deal, the Movie

31 July 07

So, there is a new poker movie coming out. It’s got Shannon Elizabeth. It’s got Burt Reynolds. It stars a hot shot named Alex Stillman.

Oh boy.

I always knew a good looking poker player named Stillman would end up with Shannon Elizabeth. I just thought it’d be me (just kidding, honey).

Check out the trailer and synopsis.

Deal, the Movie

Fantastic Weekend!

30 July 07

We went whale watching yesterday. It was declared the “worst day ever” by my son because we didn’t see any whales. Then he started talking about all the cool stuff we saw – the bald eagles, the harbor seals, the cool boats and all the different islands. I think he had a blast.

We have been living in the greater Seattle area for three years, but we only do the cool stuff when family and friends come to visit. My dad and his girlfriend (de facto wife?) Judy are here from Florida. Dad can’t see, but he still had a great time listening to us describe the scenery.

We ate dinner at Daniel’s Broiler on Lake Union. Spectacular views, amazing food and great conversation. Seeing the Ferrari parked directly across from our minivan was desert.

Oh yeah. Poker was played. Ace on the river beat me 3 damn times. Still, these home games are a blast. My favorite quote is from Judy, “Oh what the heck. I call. I have Ace high.”

It was good.

Rockfish

Turn up your speakers. Thank me later.



Perhaps I'm the only one who didn't know about this film. Who cares. It's incredible.

For my RSS readers, here is the link:

http://www.atomfilms.com/film/rockfish.jsp

Ferrari’s on 12th

25 July 2007

Every year, the local Seattle Ferrari (and other exotic) owners gather at Ferrari and Maserati of Seattle on 12th Ave. to show off their cars and raise money for a local children’s charity. I got there with the kids just as they were pulling away. The sound was amazing and will surely be on my mind over the next few months while I’m playing in the sand. The video is only 39 seconds long, and even though I’m a diehard Ferrari fan, my son’s favorite was the orange Lamborghini at the 17 second mark.

Enjoy!

Outplayed!

24 July 07

Perhaps I was too tired. That’s as good an excuse as any. It beats admitting the obvious – I got outplayed.

I waded back into the poker scene recently. A couple good finished in tournaments created a little spark in the tiny bankroll, so I jumped into a very loose 10/20 game at the Muckleshoot. I was bleeding away chips playing good solid poker and losing to suckouts. I was actually happy with that (as opposed to pretending to be happy) because it meant they were willing to play to the river with crap. As long as I could get my premium hands to hold up, the money would come.

Sitting on A7 in the big blind, I call a raise and 4 of us see a flop of As-10h-6d. I’m first to act so I bet. Good player #1 raises and good Player #2 flat calls. My A7 hits the muck as fast as I can fling it.

At the river, #1 had a just a pair of 10s and #2 had pocket 8s.

As I walked away, I knew I got outplayed. The question is, if I discount collusion (if they were colluding, the correct move from #2 would have been a flop re-raise), can I give credit to #2 for thinking:

a. He (meaning me) might lay down top pair here.

b. Realizing that Player #1s flop raise was a move against me (as opposed to a real hand).

I think the answer to #1 is no, but #2 is possible. I had folded a couple hands on the flop when I was the initial raiser. I was obviously stuck. I think I was playing (or at least perceived to be playing) extra tight, and therefore might be able to be outplayed.

I’m just pleased that I left with a good portion of my bankroll still intact. You can’t outplay me if I’m not there, dammit!

There Will Always be Donkeys

22 July 07

I’ve occasionally thought that the poker boom could not sustain itself. My theory was that the bad players would lose their bankroll and there would be only good players left. There are times when I play where I think everyone must be well versed in poker theory and are as adept at calculating pot odds as they are at picking up on all my tells.

And then there’s yesterday.

Live 6/12 and it’s a typical lose game. There is an early position raise and 4 callers before it gets to me. I look down at 7h-8h and flat call from the button. 6 of us see a flop with two hearts giving me both a flush draw and a straight draw. Bet. Call. Raise. Call. I three bet, and everyone calls.

The turn gives me my flush. Sweet!

It’s a scare card, it checks around to me so of course I bet. I get three callers.

The river is a 4th diamond. Shit. There goes my baby flush. It checks around to me again. I can’t bet, so I dejectedly turn over my cards and wait to hear the bad news.

Muck. Muck. Muck.

What the hell where they calling the turn with?! Were they not scared that at least ONE of the 4 of us already had the flush? Did they not think that whatever outs they might have had were diminished (if not already drawing dead) if another diamond comes on the river?

Long live the donkeys!

Keith Olbermann for President!

20 July 07

‘Scuze me while I go vomit.

So, I just got this email from my buddy Stefan. Here I was thinking he was a like-minded Republican (who is often embarrassed to admit this publicly), and he sends me this email.

First, his note:

No, I am not becoming a stinking hippie, but Bush needs to go. Also, I am not a Hillary fan either. I want to see your reactions.

Olbermann: Go to Iraq and fight, Mr. President
Keith Olbermann says the administration's scapegoating of Sen. Hillary Clinton for the mess in Iraq is unfathomable, and the time has come for President Bush to take responsibility and go fight the war himself.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/19859124/from/ET/

And now, my reply:

Regardless of your (or my) feelings about the current administration, if you fell for this load of crap, you are just as deluded as the majority of those that identify themselves as "Liberals."

First of all, politicians do not fight wars. They aren't supposed to fight wars. It would be a bad idea, in fact. We have a separation between soldiers and politicians for a reason. Politicians practice speeches and soldiers practice killing.

Secondly, blaming Hillary is a natural defensive response to being blamed themselves. She, along with the rest of the congress, voted to authorize the war based on the evidence available at the time. They'd do it again. The majority of Americans believed it was just.

Finally, the thrust of his column is a letter from Mr. Edelman (an undersecretary of defense) to Sen. Clinton. In the letter, he asks her to stop calling for a redeployment because it emboldens the enemy and endangers the Iraqis who have helped us. This just parrots what the administration has been saying all along, and it's based on advice from the military leaders on the ground. Olbermann agrees with a spokesperson for the senator who says the undersecretary's remarks are, "outrageous and dangerous." He then sites a bunch of non-relevant historical babble in an effort to further his position and make himself sound more like Charles Krauthammer (which he ain't).

Olbermann demanding that the President go fight in Iraq makes good theater, but it really just paints him as an idiot who doesn't understand the political system. Well, let me qualify that. From what I know about Olbermann, he's actually a bright guy. So why take this ridiculous position, you ask? He's doing it to pander to his liberal fan base and motivate the Democrats to "get the bum out of office" so Democrats, who clearly would be able to run the country and the war much better, can take over.

And that's exact what's going to happen.

Now you'll have to excuse me because I've got to pack. I'm headed to Iraq for six months. Then I'm getting out of the Army after 21 years. I'll be watching the Democrats run this country into the ground from the sidelines.

White Cloud

20 July 07

Do you believe that certain people just have good luck?

I am known as having a white cloud at my hospital. This means that when I’m on call, my residents expect that the workload will be light. They are usually right. Certainly, the fact I’m on call has no effect on how many car crashes happen or how many people choose to have a bout of appendicitis, right? Yet, I consistently have the fewest number of emergency cases when I’m on call. My residents love me. I’ve even suspect several residents have changed their call just to be on with me. This may have something to do with me being a little easier to get along with than some other staff physicians, but I’m pretty sure the cloud thing factors into the decision. It’s illogical, but it’s hard to argue with historical fact.

All I’m saying is, if you choose to drive recklessly or engage in an activity that might lead to a hospitalization, first check to see if I’m on call that night. I might be your guardian angel.

Jeez, Would You Look at That!

18 July 07

I did something this morning I don’t normally. I called 911.

Just before I got off at the exit to the hospital, there were two milk trucks right in front of me. These were the huge tractor-trailers, each with two of the large silver cylinders in tandem. Truck #1 in the middle lane drifted to the right and crashed into Truck #2 in the far right lane causing him to skid over onto the shoulder. This happened immediately in front of me, and I think I peed a little.

Amazingly, they both recovered and kept driving. In fact, Truck #1 actually sped up! I’m certain he was falling asleep at the wheel. I hope he was speeding up so that he could get off the next exit, but I doubt it. Hence the call to 911.

Let’s hope the Washington State 911 is as good as the one my sister worked with in Florida and they get this guy off the road before he kills someone. That’s an awfully big truck to be smashing into things.

Oh yeah. Congrats to Jerry Yang on winning the Main Event of the 2007 WSOP, and further congrats to the guys over at www.pokernews.com . Having Dr. Pauly’s comments interlaced with the hand histories was brilliant, and I really likely the “Show This Hand” feature. Cool stuff.

Military Posturing

17 July 07

Thanks again to Judy for this one.

The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent terrorist threats and have raised their security level from “Miffed” to “Peeved.” Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again, to “Irritated” or even “A Bit Cross.” Londoners have not been “A Bit Cross” since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies all but ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from “Tiresome” to a “Bloody Nuisance.” The last time the British issued a “Bloody Nuisance” warning level was during the great fire of 1666.

Also the French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from “Hide” to “Run & Hide”. The only two higher levels in France are “Surrender” and “Collaborate.” The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France’s white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country’s military capability.

It’s not only the English and French that are on a heightened level of alert. Italy has increased the alert level from “Shout Loudly and Excitedly” to “Elaborate Military Posturing.” Two more levels remain: “Ineffective Combat Operations” and “Change Sides.”

The Germans also increased their alert state from “Disdainful Arrogance” to “Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs.” They also have two higher levels: “Invade a Neighbor” and “Lose.”

The Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday but have said that the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels.

The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish Navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish Navy.

Yeah, but he’s My Boss

16 July 07

The Sunday morning tournament I usually play was on hold yesterday because it was the freeroll tournament for regulars. Unfortunately, hours spent during tournaments don’t count, so I didn’t qualify. Why don’t my tourney hours count, dammit? The house makes money off of my buy-in (15%)! Has anyone else experienced this?

So instead, I take the amount I would normally use to buy in and see if I can run it up in a live game. My buddy Andrew and I both bought in to a typical loose 4/8 game. Now, I should mention that I call Andrew my buddy, but I’m really his boss. He is a Major and I’m a Lieutenant Colonel. I rate him. We are both Army doctors so isn’t as big a deal as if we were, say, Infantry. But it’s still out there.

Bottom line – it was an 8/16 kill pot and I cracked his Aces with 8h-6h. I had much joy dragging a huge pot, and he was good natured about it. Well, he was on tilt and donked away the rest of his buy in quickly after that, but at least he was smiling. We talked about the hand afterward and both agreed that we played it correctly. Sometimes donkeys (i.e. ME) catch cards. In the long run, you WANT idiots holding 8h-6h to call your pocket aces. In the short term though, it doesn’t feel so good.

Should the fact that I’m his boss factor into any of this? I’ve already written his annual review (outstanding, BTW). I’m certain the dollar amount is inconsequential. It wasn’t a home game and he did not feel compelled to play with me.

WSOP News

14 July 07

For those of you who aren’t following the minute to minute updates at www.pokernews.com, you may have missed this gem from BJ Nemeth:

BJNemeth
With 72 Players Left, A Chop Would be Worth 9th-Place Money
With 72 players left, there is still $37,866,039 left in the prizepool. If everyone agreed to chop the rest of the money, each player would receive $525,917. By comparison, ninth place is worth $525,934 -- just $17 more. The numbers just get more compelling.

Interesting idea. I doubt the suits at Harrah’s or ESPN would allow it, but could they stop it if all the players agreed?

Bad Day

12 July 07

This one is for Iggy. Hopefully this will cheer him up after getting hacked.

I had a really bad day last week. I inadvertently rear ended a van.

When we pulled over and got out, imagine my surprise when I discovered that the other driver was a dwarf.

As he approached with a sour look on his face, he looked up at me and said, "I am not happy!"

God help me, I couldn't help myself. I asked him, "Well then, which one are you?"

That's when the fight started.

It’s Not Cheating if…

11 July 07

I played in the big racquetball tournament at LA Fitness yesterday and took 3rd place. My first game was a barnstormer. I won 15 to 14 and we both had multiple match point attempts before a miss-hit from my opponent set up an easy kill shot for me.

Here is my problem. When the match was 13 to 12, he won a point. It was one of our typical long rallies, and I’m pretty sure he was serving. It makes a difference, because if I was serving, I lose the serve. If he was serving, he gets the point. We discussed it briefly and he said he was pretty sure that it was just change of serve. I stopped arguing and went on to win the match.

But I don’t feel right about it.

I’m famous for calling penalties on myself (perhaps a throwback to my golfing days). If there is ever a question about a point, I’m always the first one to suggest we either play it over or I’ll concede the point without contest. I really feel like I didn’t fight this one hard enough, and the problem is that I think it’s because I wanted to win so badly.

Shouldn’t it be enough that it was a great game, win or lose?

Mom Should Be More Like Jenna Jameson

9 July 07


The title of this post was a line spoken by my 9 year old son last night before bed. After a moment of stunned silence and another moment to compose myself, I calmly replied that, while I agreed with the comment, perhaps he could further elaborate.

Apparently, Ms. Jameson is now romantically involved with Ultimate Fighting Champ Tito Ortiz, who happens to be the coolest, most awesomest fighter ever, donchaknow.

And why should Mommy be more like Ms. Ortiz (AKA the most successful porn star ever)?

Because Jenna totally digs the UFC, of course.

Thanks, son. I’ll be sure to tell Mommy.

Bad Beats and Other Nonsense

8 July 07

I’m checking in regularly with the folks over at Pokernews to get my daily fix of World Series of Poker action. Last night saw a player go all in on the river with quad 8s only to get called by another player with a straight flush.

Say it with me… Live Poker is So Rigged.

On another note, we just purchased a 3rd car last night. The Wallup in Puyallup was having its annual mega used car sale. We’ve been talking about getting a car for our new Brazilian Au Pair (nanny). It turns out that she’s getting a 1997 Subaru Outback. They were asking $8000 and we got them down to $5025 – well below Kelley Blue Book of $7330. We put the whole thing on the credit card so we will get the free miles out of it. I’m pretty sure that gives us enough for a return trip to Hawaii. Pretty sweet deal if you ask me.

Time Gets Short

6 July 07

Sorry for the lack of posting. Things here have been busy. We are down to 7 physicians (we are supposed to have 19), and all of us are basically in work-go home-go back to work mode. Poker, golf and life have pretty much taken a back seat. I still play racquetball once a week, and I qualified for the tournament again. Unfortunately, I’m playing the #1 seed in the first round, and I’ve never beaten her.

That’s right. I got beat by a girl. You have a problem with that?

Actually, she won the whole thing last time, too. She’s the only woman in the league, and she never hits the ball hard. She just doesn’t make mistakes. I’m glad she’s not a poker player.

Congrats to Michael Craig for making two final tables at this year’s World Series of Poker. If that doesn’t sell your new poker strategy book, I don’t know what will. I know I want a copy. I’ll read it in Iraq. Anthony Holden gave Michael a shout over at Bigger Deal:

With James McManus and Peter Alson already outa here, this year’s contest among poker writers is so far a one-man show, thanks to the major achievement of my pal Michael Craig (The Professor, The Banker and the Suicide King) in making two final tables.

Day one of the Main Event starts today. Good luck to all of my friends who are playing. Make the best of that $10,000 investment!

How to Beat America

29 June 07

As I have mentioned many times in the past, I don’t like to get political. I run the risk of letting all who know me find out how ignorant I am on current events. That said, I’m beginning to feel like I’m watching the decline of my great nation. I wish it were just one thing I could put my finger on and say, “Ah ha! This is the problem.” If it were that easy, someone smarter than me would have already figured it out and fixed it (I hope).

Here is the problem as I see it. America is too complacent with its place as the only superpower in the world. Rather than use our vast powers for good, we instead choose to give voice to our detractors and apologize for our bad behavior. This combination of attitudes emboldens others who might not even be enemies, and in fact (I believe) even enables them to become enemies, if only for the profiteering.

Let me illustrate. Right now, Vlad Putin, the chief muck-a-muck in Russia, has surrounded himself with a group of old KGB who are nostalgic for the Cold War days (feel free to draw your own conclusions about the Bush administration). America wants to put a missile shield in Europe. Russia wants a piece of the action.

There are two ways to get what they want. They can ask us nicely and run the risk of us saying no, or they can attack us on the world stage for political decisions made 40 to 60 years ago and hold that out as examples of why America is bad. In this way, America might be embarrassed into giving them what they want.

There is recent historical precedent that this method works. America imposes tough sanctions against Iran and says they shouldn’t build nuclear weapons, but when North Korea proves they actually have nucs, we kowtow to their desires and give voice to their demands.

The risk in all of this is you can’t undo the damage to our reputation. There is a new generation of Russian youth who are beginning to believe that America is bad. To make matters worse, the liberal media in America is turning American youth against our own country!

I’ve said this many times before. America needs better PR. We do great things. We’ve also done bad things. Sure, we need to be less hypocritical – I get it. But maybe if the world were regularly reminded of how benevolent we can be, they’d be less apt to find ways to attack us verbally. Attacking us physically may not be far behind.

Paintjam!

28 June 07

Thanks to Nana Judy for this one.

Paintjam!

Here is the link for my RSS readers:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OIJtKxdRQzY

300 Posts!

27 June 07

Reflecting back on 300 posts, I can’t help but wonder what it’s all about. I have kept a written diary in the past, but I always lose interest after a few entries. What is it about blogging that keeps me coming back?

Certainly there is the feedback piece of it. Ask anyone who knows me (especially my wife), and they will tell you I have a huge ego, and it is ravenous. Blog comments feed that ego quite nicely, thank you very much.

But, after a while (and after many posts that receive no comments at all), there must be something else to keep me coming back. As most of you know, this blog started out as the chronicles of an amateur poker player, but has morphed into something else. I hope the reason you still read what I say is because you like the “something else.”

I think it’s like a written photo album. I know I get nostalgic when I read old posts. I’m sure I’ll look back on them in the future with fondness. I secretly hope my kids will one day discover this blog and learn a thing or two about their dad.

Anyway, thanks for being out there, dear reader. I hope you stay interested.

WSOP 2007

26 June 07

I’m really missing the World Series of Poker this year. I briefly thought about playing, but work, life and a bad run at poker kind of got in the way. On the flip side, if I had gone, I would have missed a wonderful day yesterday with my kids and their cousins at the Space Needle and the beach here in Washington.

But, if I had gone, I would have seen two buddies make it deep. Pauly cashed in his first WSOP event, taking 119th place out of almost 3000 players. Michael Craig, author of The Professor, the Banker and the Suicide King (of which a signed copy happens to be sitting on my nightstand) is at the final table of a mixed hold ‘em event.

Way to go guys!

Go Pauly Go!

23 June 07

So, I’m catching up on the WSOP and I check on the chip counts for Event 38. Imagine my surprise!



Some notes from the event include these gems:

1 hour 30 minutes ago Posted by change100

Dr. Pauly Doubles Up
Paul "Dr. Pauly" McGuire doubled his stack with the following two hands: McGuire limped from UTG with 8c-9c and along with seven other players saw a flop of 7c-10h-Jh. McGuire bet 275, an early-position player called, a middle-position player raised to 1,000, and McGuire moved all in for 2,000. The EP player folded 7-7, the MP player folded J-10, and McGuire scooped the pot with his flopped straight. On a subsequent hand, McGuire limped on the button with Jd-10d and Bertrand "ElkY" Grospellier checked from the big blind. The flop came jack-high, Grospellier fired out a pot-sized bet, McGuire moved all-in and Grospellier folded. McGuire is now up to 6,000.

And this…

Recent Eliminations
Phil Gordon, and Dutch Boyd have all been eliminated.

That’s right. Our man Dr. Pauly outlasted Phil and Dutch.

Take it down, man!

Occupied!

20 June 07

Apparently this is Rant Month.

Doctors have little special privilege in the Army and, as such, we don’t get our own bathrooms. I have to use the same bathroom as our patients. No big deal.

//rant on//

So I’m taking my morning constitutional this a.m. when there is a loud knock on the door.

BANG! BANG!

I don’t say anything because I’m concentrating on the task at hand, and I figure the locked door speaks volumes.

BANG! BANG!

It’s one minute later. I’m not done yet, so I greet the intruder with silence.

BANG! BANG!

I can take no more. “Occupied!” I reply.

From the other side of the door I hear, “Well, you’ve been in there a long damn time!”

It’s coming from an older male, and I’m sure he has a need. I could care less at this point. This is MY time.

“Feel free to come in here and wipe my ass then! I’m almost done!”

There was no one outside the door when I walked out.

//rant off//

I Am Not a Slave Owner!

19 June 07

Follow on my rant about not being a meth addict comes this post about white guilt. My son was playing the final game of his basketball season last night. His team is predominantly white. The opposing team was predominantly black. The 9 to 11 year old league has a rule that says all players must play. The opposing coach only played his good players while our coach (a 20 year veteran of the police force) played every one.

Coach Steve also has a sense of fairness, and he’d finally had enough. In the 4th quarter, he called over the other coach and spoke with the league director about the discrepancy. The opposing coach replied (loud enough for everyone to hear), “Man, I ain’t following that cracker rule!”

Our coach’s eyes bulged out, but no one said anything. The opposing coach continued to play only his best players and they went on to win by 2.

Here is my point. Our entire team (parents included) was embarrassed or afraid to call out the other coach on an obvious racial slur. I cannot possibly imagine suggesting a rule favored blacks – especially while using a slur that denigrates black people!

Why didn’t anyone say anything? Was there no one on our side willing to step up and say, “Now wait a minute. That’s unfair!”

Nope, and I tell you why. White guilt. Our culture accepts that blacks can slur against blacks and blacks can slur against whites, but it can never go the other way. It’s kind of an impressive example of selling your cause, actually. Okay, I get it. There is inequality in our society. Whites still have it easier than blacks. We are the majority in America. Surely we have some responsibility to acknowledge that minorities have it tougher.

But does that give minorities the right to push the limits? I’m tired of feeling guilty for something I didn’t do.

Turn Up Your Speakers

You Tube continues to punish me for not watching TV. It also rewards me with gems like this.

Goosebumps.

Editors Note: Here is the link for my RSS readers:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1k08yxu57NA&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Fpokerdoctor%2Eblogspot%2Ecom%2F

I’m Not a Meth Addict, Dammit!

17 June 07

Seattle is awesome, especially this time of year. Unfortunately, it’s also allergy season. For me, that means Allegra and Flonase. They work like a charm. Like a good and prepared physician, I always have stock on hand for when the itchy-scratchies start up. But I ran out. So, not wanting to wait until Monday to get my prescriptions from the hospital, I went to the next best thing. It always works in a pinch, even if it makes me a little jittery.

I’m talking of course about Pseudoephedrine, AKA Sudafed.

//rant on//

So, I go to the local Fred Meyer, and there on the shelf is my relief. But wait, it’s only a card. I have to take this stupid card to the stupid pharmacy before I can get this stupid over the counter medicine. As if that wasn’t enough, I also have to fill out goddamn forms and show two photo ID’s and give my fingerprints. This is f’in nuts!

Drugs are a problem throughout the country, but here in Washington State, we really have a problem with crystal meth. Sudafed apparently is a key ingredient. I’ve walked some nature trails in the area and have seen bunches of empty Sudafed packs lying on the ground.

But this is insane. I’m a physician, dammit! I can prescribe narcotics. I can prescribe drugs you’ve never heard of that will mess you up more than you can possibly imagine. Yet, I’m treated like a criminal for the only stupid drug that will quickly and efficiently stop my sneezing.

The worst part of all this is that I first showed up to the store it was before the pharmacy opened. When I inquired if there was any way someone could take my information and sell me one box, you should have seen the looks I got. I could hear their thoughts.

“Damn tweekers.”

//rant off//

I hope everyone had a Happy Father’s Day.

Bigger Deal

14 June 07

I’ve been keeping a secret.

Okay, it’s not the biggest secret, and most of my readers are already aware.

Here it is.

If you are even the tiniest fan of poker, you have read Big Deal and are aware of Bigger Deal. Furthermore, you must know about the incredible collection of new “bloggers” over at Bigger Deal. It’s kind of an impressive line up including Anthony Holden, Al Alvarez and Lee Jones.

I normally don’t recommend other blogs unless they really have something to offer that is new or different or important.

Bigger Deal is all of this and more. Talk about raising the bar! Plus, I got a little ego stroke after leaving a comment on Holden’s post about poker songs:

Comment from Anthony Holden
Time: June 14, 2007, 4:18 pm
Uh-oh, looks like Dr. Chako beat me to it…

That’s right – Holden was talking about me. It’s like being acknowledged by royalty. Well, maybe not, but it’s cool to me in that “big, dumb fan” kinda way. Head on over and check it out.

More Midlife Crisis Thoughts

13 June 07

Doing the single dad thing while my wife is away on business has given me too much time to think. Of course, that leads me back to the whole, “Holy crap I’m 40!” business.

I was putting my kids to bed last night and, as usual, my oldest asked me to play guitar. He requested my shortest song since I let him stay up WAY past his bedtime to watch the Ultimate Fighting Championship on Spike TV.

Don’t tell mom.

The shortest song I know is My Grandfather’s Clock:

My grandfather's clock

Was too large for the shelf,

So it stood ninety years on the floor;

It was taller by half

Than the old man himself,

Though it weighed not a pennyweight more.

It was bought on the morn

Of the day that he was born,

And was always his treasure and pride;

But it stopped short

Never to go again,

When the old man died.

Ninety years without slumbering,

Tick, tock, tick, tock,

His life seconds numbering,

Tick, tock, tick, tock,

It stopped short

Never to go again,

When the old man died.

Great. Another song about mortality.

Random other thought. I was picking up lunch last week, and I was in uniform. I started chatting with a young man at the counter. He was in his 20’s and was curious about military life. When I mentioned that I’m headed to Iraq, he was visibly stunned. “I don’t know what to say. Good luck, I guess.”

I thanked him and kind of casually said the first thing that came to mind. Here is my reply:

"I’m kind of resolved to the whole combat thing now. In fact, I’m looking forward to it. In the end, life is all about experiences, and this should be one hell of an experience."

It was a throwaway sentence, but it kind of rings true, no?

PS. You are a serious geek if this comic makes you laugh. I nearly busted a gut.

Being Aware of Tilt

10 JUN 07

I’ve actually been playing a little poker lately, and I’ve done well in the local tournament. They just expanded their poker room and the daily 11:30 am $35 tournament gets between 40 and 80 people. Who are these people that aren’t working between 11:30 am and 2 pm on a weekday?!

Anyway, I’ve been thinking about tilt. When my stack gets short, I’ve been pushing a little too hard with the “double-up or go-home” mentality. Bad form. There is always someone willing to call me down with bottom pair, leaving me shaking my head and walking away in a huff. Well, at least I don’t have to waste my time at the cashier’s cage.

But, why can’t I be that other guy. If I recognize another player is on short-stack tilt, can’t I call him down with bottom pair and take the rest of his money? Is this move even profitable?

It sure is against me.

Hawaii Trip Report #3

6 JUN 07

This is my third and final trip report. I’ll keep it short and sweet because I have to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow. I’m getting promoted! For those of you non-military types, military promotions can be a big thing. My boys will be doing the honors of pinning on the newly acquired Lieutenant Colonel rank (although my youngest may need a little help from mom so he doesn’t drive the pins into my acromion).

For now, please enjoy these photos from our trip.

First off, my “cousin.” We share the same last name but have never met. Would you believe me if I told you he was my father?

Golfing in paradise. This is the Ko’olau Golf Course, and you can see why it’s ranked as #51 in Golf Digests top 100 places you can play.

It takes a real man to drink a fruity drink. There was no alcohol. Honest.

Hawaii Trip Report #2

5 JUN 07

I’m under self-imposed pressure to blog about this before the memories become less clear. Ain’t that just the way of things? Thank goodness for pictures, which I hope to post soon.

After the amazing coincidental meeting with my long lost cousin, my wife and I checked into a fabulous room overlooking the ocean and Mauna Loa Park. The word “idyllic” comes close. Every day was paradise. We often joked about how long we’d have to live there before the perfection of every day became routine. Oh, look. Another rainbow. Meh.

Rather than bore you with details that only my wife and I will find interesting, let me share a few quick things with you:

- If you go to Hawaii, fly to the big island and visit the volcano. At first it seemed flat and uninteresting, but the more we wandered, the more it felt really foreign. It’s almost like we were visiting another planet. You really see the awesome power of nature and if you have a decent imagination, you can hear the explosions and see the lava carving the earth.

- Pauly and Otis have talked about the differences between being a traveler and a tourist. While the former sounds romantic, there is a reason tourism exists, and it’s for people like us. In that vane, if you must do a lu’au, do the one at the Polynesian Cultural Center. Nuf said.

- Buy a Hawaiian shirt at Hilo Hatties. Make sure it’s Rayon. Wear it. You may never get another chance (unless you live in Florida or Vegas).

- Snorkel in Haneuma Bay. Wear SPF 50. Apply it before you leave your hotel room and at least once more during the day. If you want to save a little time and money, rent your snorkel gear before you get there.

- I’m plus/minus about the dinner cruise we took on the Navatek I. It’s a very cool ship and dolphins were racing along the bow. The food was passable (barely), but the guitarist was awesome. There were Hawaiian dancers, too, if you go for that sort of thing.

Here’s an observation. Hawaiian girls have their own beauty, but as a rule, they didn’t do it for me. Give me an Hispanic woman any day. Uh, I mean, my wife outshone them all.*

It all comes down to the epiphany I had while walking on the beach. We all want to be known for something, and this is my something. You can inscribe it on my tombstone, and I intend to use it if I’m ever asked to give a toast:

“Throughout your life, may you know what you’ve got while you’ve got it.”


* She really did.

Bluegrass on Letterman

I'll get back to my Hawaii trip report soon. Please allow me a short detour.

I gave up watching regular TV a long time ago. Most of it was crap anyway. Sometimes, though, you get something like this. Wow. I’m speechless.

Here is the link if the video doesn't work. I've never embedded anything before:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=icMTVV5Lwaw&mode=related&search=

Here is what I think I know from the video:

1st banjo -Earl Scruggs – perhaps the greatest banjo player ever and one half of the duo Flatt and Scruggs

2nd banjo -Steve Martin – yes, THAT Steve Martin

Acoustic Guitar -Randy Scruggs

1st Electric Guitar solo -Vince Gill

2nd guitar solo -Albert Lee

Mandolin -Marty Stuart

Harmonica -Gary Scruggs

Not sure about the rest, but I think it's Glen Duncan on fiddle, and I don't know about Dobro. Somebody please correct me if I'm wrong.

You all may not appreciate this as much as me. At least I know Daddy will like it.

Hawaii Trip Report #1

1 June 07

Where to begin?

This was our first trip to Hawaii. A 5 ½ hour plane ride from Seattle is a bit much, but it’s a lot easier without kids. Big thanks to Nancy (my mother-in-law) for coming down here from Wisconsin for the week. My youngest got sick near the end of the trip, and Nancy didn’t complain at all about having to clean up puke from his bed. It was made easier by Jason’s “puke-and-rally gene” (right, Al?) because he was happy as a clam right after relieving himself. It’s hard to be mad in the face of such joy.

We get off the plane and head to Alamo Rental Cars. You must have your own car if you want to do Oahu correctly. Little known tidbit – if you arrive in the afternoon, do not pay for an upgrade to your rental car. Most of the economy cars are gone in the morning, so all they have left are the nicer ones, which they give you for the same price. We got a Trailblazer, which was quite nice. We headed to our hotel, the Prince Hotel on Waikiki, a 5-star humdinger where we were one of only two other non-Asian groups. That’s not much of an exaggeration.

Small world story. As I’m checking in, they ask for my last name. I say, “Chako,” and they reply, “John?” Sorry, my first name is Chuck (most people reading this blog know my real name, but since it’s out there for all to see, I stick with the nom de plum Dr. Chako).

Anyway, I’m surprised to see someone else listed at the hotel with the same last name. Since I have no relatives named John, it’s a weird coincidence. Imagine my surprise when the guy standing next to me hands over his credit card and I happen to see the name – it’s John! I introduce myself and as I’m shaking his hand, his wife remarks that we look a lot a like. It’s uncanny, really. John is the same age as my dad, and if he and my dad were standing next to each other and someone asked you to pick my father, I think you’d have a tough time.

We started comparing notes. Turns out there are tons of similarities.

- Both of our families are from Russia.
- Both families came to the US in the early 1900’s but were turned away at the border and forced to go to Canada.
- Both of our families moved to the states at the earliest possibility – his to Minnesota and mine to New York.

His grandfather was named George. I had a great uncle named George, but we know all of George’s offspring, and there are no Johns in there. There is a possibility that George had kids from a mistress, but no one in my family can confirm this. I asked John for more details, but he says that he doesn’t know anymore. I’m guessing we may be second cousins once removed. At most, we are 3rd or 4th cousins. Amazing.

Next – Waikiki, Diamondhead, Luau’s and throwing my wife into an active Volcano.