Aural Sommelier - NPR Edition

One of my guilty pleasures (I am a conservative after all) is listening to NPR every day, both on the drive to work and on the way home. It's the only organization I give money to besides the Boys & Girls Clubs.

Aside from the joy I get trying to identify the liberal bent to their news reporting (it's not really that hard), I also really enjoy just listening to the voices. I'm experienced enough that I can immediately tell when my favorites come on and who they are. It occurred to me this morning that these voices are not unlike another enjoyment of mine - fine wine. When I began to make comparisons, I thought it might be a good idea for a blog post. Feel free to disagree or add your own.

Linda Wertheimer - She was back on Morning Edition this morning and it's always a treat. To me, her voice is my absolute favorite drink - 18 year old single malt Macallan scotch. Rich, smooth and full, I could sit and listen to her all day.

Andrei Codrescu - I'm resisting the urge to call his voice straight vodka because of the obvious Russian connection. Instead, his voice is compelling and entertaining. Not like a fruity drink because there is always substance behind the words. There is humor also. To me, his voice is... a White Russian. Yes, I know there is vodka and yes, "Russian" is right in the title. Sue me. It's a bold but fun drink and that's how I feel.

Neal Conan - Another aural pleasure full of all kinds of hidden tastes, like a fine Merlot. I'm thinking J. Lohr circa 1997.

Renee Montagne - Renee is the usual host of Morning Edition and she's got a lovely voice. It's almost the richness of Linda, but not quite. I almost wanted to say she's like a 12 year old Macallan, but she's better than that and, while she's not quite as perfect as Linda, she's great in her own way. Perhaps a Glenlivet 18.

Steve Innskeep - I hate Steve Innskeep. He's bad for NPR and he's bad for my disposition. Like I said, I enjoy picking out the subtleties in the dialogue from the majority of NPR reports. Instead, Steve just wants to bash me on the head with his liberal hammer. His hatred of conservatives comes through whenever he talks politics. I think the only reason he is tolerated is because of the Keith Olbermann effect. I often wonder if Steve has a Keith-shrine in his basement. That said, when he's not talking politics, he's got a wonderful voice. Despite my love for the drink and my hatred for Steve, I still think he's a good Cabernet Sauvignon.

Diane Rehm - I'm a little embarrassed to say that her voice turns me off. She has struggled with the same affliction as Scott Adams (spasmodic dysphonia), and it comes through as almost a Parkinsonian warble when she talks. Her subject matter is always good - I just can't listen. Many people can and so I'm equating her with Anisette. To me it tastes like black licorice, which I dislike, but many people love it and good for them.

Dan Shore - Strangely, I didn't see him listed on the NPR personalities page. It doesn't get more senior than Dan. He was there, man! He voice has a richness of experience that you must respect, even if you disagree. A rare treat, I feel he is Johnny Walker Blue.

There are others I wanted to talk about including Bob Edwards, Corey Flintoff, Juan Williams, Ann Taylor, Michele Norris and my all time favorite Terry Gross, but I have to get back to my patients. Feel free to add any in the comments section.

The Blogger/Facebook/Twitter Conundrum

I am certainly not the first blogger to struggle with this. Heck, I'm probably not the first one today using this exact title for a post.

As the blogfather noted, Twitter (and Facebook, at least for me), are killing my blog. It used to be that when something interesting happened, I'd think, "This would make a good blog post." Now I think, "Where should this go?"

Like this weekend for instance. This was one of the best weekends in quite a while. The Wife is home back in Seattle, so we partied with a fellow poker player and then went to Snoqualmie Falls. Well, we played Rockband instead of poker and, while the falls were amazing, they don't quite fit here on the blog, especially since it was mostly photos, not story.

Oh well, at least here I can post some cool links.

I <3 the IRS

Seriously.

Aside from being a contract physician, I also have an internet-based business from my home. The taxes and forms almost make it not worth the effort, but it's too late to stop now.

I accidentally filed a form late (form 1120S if you care). I paid all my fees on time over the internet, but the actual form itself didn't get there until about 2 months after the due date. Another penalty. Oh well.

But wait!

When I called the IRS to ask which address to send my form, a very helpful woman named Judy answered. I told her about the late filing penalty and she said that this is the first year they are assessing the penalty. She told me they can automatically apply a "1st-time offender" waiver, which she did right there on the phone. $267 wiped away!

She also told me I could fax the form right to her (instead of mailing it), saving a several weeks in processing.

Our government actually working. W00t!!

University of Tampa 1988-1991

College was a strange time. I had just gotten out of the Army and was refocused on my goal of becoming a doctor. It all worked out, but sometimes you have to wonder.


I have more of these over on Facebook if you are interested.

Happy 4th of July!

On Anniversaries

Today is July 1st. That means it's been exactly one year since I got out of the Army. I remember dreaming of the day when I was finally free. All the things I could do. I would travel without having to get a threat-briefing. I would be able to come and go as I please. Hell, I could even smoke pot if I wanted (which I didn't).

Who could possibly imagine all the things that happened over the last year? Sure, I'm no longer a lieutenant colonel and no one salutes me any more. I also don't have to worry about going back to Iraq and I can honestly say I'm closer to my wife and family than ever before. That seems a little crazy since The Wife is living 800 miles away right now.

I wouldn't change a thing.

Choices

Falstaff is a friend of mine. Despite this character flaw, he's a damn fine writer. He's been writing his heart out over on his new blog and posting excerpts 1000 words at a time (he doesn't have an easy way to subscribe to his RSS, so just copy it and paste it into your reader). It makes for compelling reading in that chapbook kind of way since each 1000 words must stand on it's own and be entertaining. Aside from being a good read, it has the added benefit that it will likely piss off quite a few people given the subject matter. My kind of read!

Go. Read.

Thank me later.

Choices

Camelot

No, not Spamalot. Camelot!

Not a silly place

From Wikipedia:

Camelot is the most famous castle and court associated with the legendary King Arthur.

It's also strongly associated with JFK:

The charisma of Kennedy and his family led to the figurative designation of "Camelot" for his administration, credited by his wife...

That's how some have referred to my situation. It's certainly the face I present to the world, both here in the blog and in person. For the most part it's true. I really do have a great life. Sure, I've tried to screw it up a few times, but the foundation is too strong to let a moron like me crack it so easily.

I have no intention of letting you see all the way behind the curtain, but let's just say that over the last year, we've been tested more than any other time in our nearly two decades together. In fact, the test really began around the time I was preparing to leave for Iraq. The stress of that time, coupled with the crazy hours The Wife had to keep, plus the death of my Father, my return home, her losing her job... well, you get the idea.

It's easy to "work it out" when you can easily define the problem. Despite being a fairly intelligent couple (ok, she's much smarter than me, but dammit Jim, I'm a doctor, not a vice president!), we were not able to do so. For the first time, a space began to open between us. Over the last year, it widened to a chasm and threatened to consume us both. Let me put it this way - I was actually looking forward to The Wife moving to California without me. It's hard to type that even now. Read it again. That's crazy talk, right?

We seemed to turn a tiny corner when we went to Vegas several months ago. It was a little spark, but you have to keep blowing on the ember, and we didn't. I don't think we tried very hard. There were other sparks, too. I wrote about some of them on Facebook and here. In the midst of all this, The Wife officially moved out. I got a charge out of it when people asked how I was doing. "Good," I replied. "My wife just moved out."

It's true. The Wife is now a California resident and just "visits" us here in Washington. She's here this week in fact. This coincided nicely with the Entrepreneur of the Year awards, a black tie event we go to every year with her old firm, Ernst & Young. It was a little strange going this year because she doesn't work there anymore. Well, I'll let you in on a little secret since you've read this far - we are not above gloating. Damn right - she's a Vice President now, bitches!

I could really delve into some of the changes we've seen this week, but I won't. I'll leave you with this. We are better. In fact, we are getting better by leaps and bounds. My love for her has never been stronger. I will grow old with this woman if she's continue to put up with me.

Can you blame me?

Twitter

Dammit all, but I've been seduced by the Dark Side of the Force. You can now follow me on Twitter:

http://twitter.com/DrChako

Happy Father's Day!

After a fantastic home game that lasted right into Father's Day (we broke at 3am), I was treated to a Father's Day brunch of crepes, bacon, eggs and candlelight. Of course, I was "forced" to watch the US Open while waiting for the head waiter and assistant waiter to take me to my seat.


Happy Father's Day to all the Dads out there.

Summer Bankroll Challenge!

It begins:


Edit: Should I be concerned that this is post 666?

Three Things

1. The lastest issue of Truckin' is out. Go read. I loved the short from Johnny Hughes.
2. The Wife and I are hosting a poker game this Saturday. What is your excuse for not coming?
3. Speaking of The Wife, she said some nice things about me. 'Bout time.

.

.

.

.

.

Kidding

Random Notes

Today you get the random stuff stuck in my head.

• I played in the annual Boys & Girls Club charity golf event. Despite not having picked up a club this season (!), I hit one drive almost 300 yards and won the closest to the pin contest on hole #3.
• Everyone who paid $5 prior to their shot got a chance at the prize pool. Half of the money went to the charity and the other half to the winner.
• My take was $180.
• I gave it all back to the charity in the auction that followed.
• I played a little 1/3 NL poker while waiting to get The Wife's car fixed.
• Yes, I do my Honey-Do's on my day off.
• I folded TPTK to a river all-in when the guy to my left talked me off the hand. He flipped over his 6-high busted straight draw and dragged a huge pot.
• Perhaps it's the Karma from the golf event, but I eventually got all his money. I went on a sick run that involved getting my money in behind twice and once turning a set to beat a flopped set.
• On his final hand, I raised in the cut-off with Qc-9c (crubs!) and he went over the top for his last $60. I told him I had a crappy hand, but maybe the poker gods would pay me back for folding TPTK earlier. I was way up, so what the heck. He had me with K8o.
• I turned the straight.
• Karma!
• The Wife is back in California and I'm working all week. Anyone up for poker?

Summer Bankroll Challenge!

Last year, MHG and I had a prop bet to see who could build their bankroll the most in a set period of time. He kicked my butt with a score (get ready for it) of -40%. That's correct. He LOST 40% of his bankroll and still beat me.

Well, we are starting it up again, but opening the challenge to anyone interested. The rules are, you have to post a screen-cap of your online BR on June 20th. At the end of the contest (date TBD by MHG), you post another screen-cap. The person with the largest PERCENT increase wins.

We will not be playing for high enough stakes to cheat. Last time, I shipped him $5 for his victory. We looked at this as a way to really focus on good, solid play (yeah, like that did a lot of good).

Seriously, if you agree to join and DON'T PLAY AT ALL, you'll probably win.

Who's with us?

Racquetball!

Well, the spin class is getting easier, so yesterday morning I hit it again. Around 6:45 pm I was thinking this may have been a little too aggressive because I was playing racquetball with two kids who's combined ages probably didn't add up to mine.

It was a bit of a drag driving north for an hour and a half to get to the court, but I was pleasantly surprised at how good the games were. MeanHappyGuy, his buddy Travis (Trevor?) and I played a little cut throat. In the middle of the second game, Travis got a little winded and called it quits. Damn lazy kids! Well, technically they had been playing for a half hour before I got there, but it's no excuse. I did spin class that morning, dammit!

MHG and I played some singles, but got kicked off by the next group. We convened at his parents house for a cold beer and great conversation with his Mom.

Next time they come to me. I'm getting too old to be driving all over Hell's half acre to school a couple kids in the box.

They Passed!

As many of you know, not only am I a physician, but I'm also a teaching chief in a large residency. It's a 4 year residency and we have 5 doc per year. In order to be a board certified radiologist, you need to pass 3 boards: Physics, Writtens and Orals.

Before I got to my hospital, they had a pretty poor pass rate. Since I've been here, it's been 100%. I was a little nervous this year, but I just found out that once again, everyone passed! I'd like to think I had a small part in their success. It sure did feel good this morning when they each came to me and told me how much they appreciated all my teaching over the last 4 years.

Well done guys!

Double A/B on Full Tilt

I was bored on this quiet Sunday, so I decided to try my hand at a 275 FTP freeroll into the Daily Double B. Nailed it on the first try. I had no idea what a Daily Double B was, so I checked. It's a 10 + 2. Two seemed like a crazy high rake until I realized that $1 is set aside for a progressive jackpot which now stands a little over $32K. But you have to win the Double A and B at the same time.

So, of course I tried another 275 FTP to the Double A.


Come rail me if you're bored.

Edit:
A - out in 565th
B - out in 463rd

Nothing to see here. Go about your business.

Poker Philosophy 101

I had a long post in mind, but it all boiled down to this:

Would you rather get your money in first (regardless of what you are holding) or call behind with Aces?

The first person who replies with, "It depends" gets a punch in the nose.

Biggest Cash

Perhaps I should have said, "In the money in a tournament with the most number of entrants in my online poker career," but that wouldn't fit as a title. Okay, so it was only $1.60, but it's a cash in a tournament with over 1000 entrants, darn it. And this after playing 10 games of racquetball! Allow me to bask in my moment of glory, please.

Spin!

Not much going on here. Ever since The Wife left me, I've been trying to find ways to improve my life. I cooked dinner twice in a row (Copper River salmon the first night and crepes the second for those keeping score), and I'm going back to the gym. Mondays and Wednesdays at LA Fitness are spin classes.

I've never done a spin class before. It always looked liked fun as I gazed through the window like a kid outside Marble Slab. They were yelling and screaming. And smiling. Can I play, too?

So I got there early (class begins at 5:45 am, so I was there at 5 - it's an Army thing), and the instructor set up my bike. 5:45 on the nose and we were off. If you've ever done this, you know it's a lot or work, but you don't think about it much. It really can be a lot of fun, and if the puddle of sweat around my bike was any indication, I got a pretty good workout.

The only hitch came around 45 minutes into the routine. I took a small break from "jumps" to drink from my bottle of water. As I sat up, I had this urge to close my eyes. Before I knew it, I lost my balance a little. I think I was about to pass out! I sure have come a long way from the Paris Marathon. The wrong way.

That's about to change.

***

Since this is a blog about poker (seemingly less and less), I'll leave you with this. 14 bucks, baby!

One Life to Give

I work with wounded soldiers every day. You could say I've dedicated my life to it. Well, I don't often get involved in the personal side of things, but when I received a request from my buddy KenP, I figured the least I could do was pass this along:

http://onelifetogive.blogspot.com/2009/05/urgent-request.html

Happy Anniversary!

It's anniversary season, and today is ours. Back in 1995 we were just two kids with a dream. I was finishing medical school and she was making her mark on the public accounting world. Who could have predicted all the goings-on over the last 14 years? It's been one helluva ride.

Tonight we celebrate this special occasion just the way you'd expect - by rushing home to get the kids to Tae Kwan Do, only to turn right around and go to our oldest son's concert.

It may not be the most romantic celebration, but I get to do it with the girl of my dreams. I may not be the best husband in the world, but I guess I'm doing something right.

Happy Anniversary, babe. It will all work out.

Edit: Once again, she outdoes me. Check it out here.

Pic Dump - Whale Watching

Orca!

Despite being near death, The Wife booked us on a whale watching excursion out of Anacortes, WA, which is only about 2 hours north of here:

Island Adventures

We had gone on one other tour with my dad, but we didn't see any whales. We sure did this time.

"I see a whale, Mommy! Oh wait. It's just dad."

Even from the relative shelter of the cabin, she still looks good.

Killer whales going off into the sunset

And one cool short video of the whale they call "Deadhead."

Dr. Chako is on You Tube

I'm a sick, sick man. I'm also off today and had a little too much time on my hands. I apologize in advance.

Pic Dump

Just back from a beautiful day at the Seattle Arboretum and the Dash Pointe Beach:

At the beach with Kipper. The kids are in the Sound (of course)

Host Mom and Au Pair

Smile!

Mom is SO BRAVE!

Now we're off to see Star Trek again!

The Coolest Thing You Will Do Today

http://www.aip.org/isns/reports/2009/051309visualillusion.html

Thank me later.

The Wedding

I've just come from a wonderful wedding in Georgia. Our 2nd Au Pair married her sweetheart on a Sunday in May during a break in the rain. Other than my bride, she may be the most beautiful bride I've ever seen in person.

Here she is being given away by her brother.

And here she is with her new husband and the wedding party.
These kids actually have a chance.

Contest Follow Up

For some reason (read: probably operator error), my last post went to RSS readers prematurely. For the full text, click here:

http://pokerdoctor.blogspot.com/2009/05/contest-is-over.html

Thanks to Otis for rubbing it in. This is crazy, eh?

To Justme - I DID change the name of the file. You just outsmarted me. Not hard to do when it comes to this internet thingy.

For those too lazy to do the math, the price per square foot is $752.19

Contest is Over!

Me thinks someone cheated and looked it up on SF Bay Craigslist, but I'd just call it being resourceful.

That's right folks. The little house from my last post is listed at $1,287,000.

Don't believe me? Check it out yourself:

4BR/2BA Single Family House (Palo Alto)

Justme - send me your email and an interesting pic is headed your way!

With an Aching... in My Heart

That's right, folks. Everyone's 2nd favorite poker doctor (I'll never beat #1) is headed to California. I'm still trying to swallow the cost-of-living thing. Seriously, have you seen home prices in Silicon Valley?


This home is available RIGHT NOW (or so says the ad). This is roughly equivalent to the home I grew up in in upstate NY. Anyone have a guess at the cost? Leave your guess in the comments. Closest gets a prize.

The Wife has followed me around the world (thanks to Uncle Sam) and now it's my turn to follow her. Besides, we've lived in the Seattle area for almost 5 years - longer than any place else in our relationship. It's time for a change.

Now the only question is - do they play poker in California?

Edit: Since we are mortgaging our souls to pay for a new home (NOT the one above, mind you), your "prize" will likely be either an as-yet unpublished pic of The Wife's new shoes or something equally exotic from my collection. If I were you, I'd choose the shoes.

OMG

The Wife got some news today that will change our lives forever. As many of you know, she was another victim of the economy. The new job search began in earnest just a few weeks ago. We were prepared for anything. Years ago, I made her a promise that regardless of my situation, if her career brought us a change, then I would do whatever was necessary to make sure she could pursue it fully.

When the possibility of this new job popped up, it seemed too good to be true. They still hadn't discussed compensation or title, but I told her to be prepared to accept a salary similar to what she is making now. By my way of thinking, as long as it was at least the same, I'd be willing to leave my current job to let her follow her dream.

I'm not going to spoil her surprise. I imagine she's crafting a post right now. My only question is if I have to salute her now.

This is just unbelievable.

The Ferrari That Wasn't

This time I was a Ferrari owner for 2 full days! Last time, it was a 360 Modena Spider, and this time it was a 1981 308 GTSi. To answer your questions from my Facebook page:

- Yes, it's the Magnum, PI car

- No, it's not a Mustang or Corvette

- Yes, it's much more reasonable than a 360

- Yes, The Wife approved of this one (well, maybe "approve" is too strong. Read here for her take)

This is the first one I actually got to park in my garage. I must say, it looked beautiful in there. I'm not ashamed to admit that after the kids went to bed, I grabbed a folding chair and went out there for some quiet reflection. The Wife may have even discovered me fondling it in a slightly inappropriate manner.

I'm very fortunate to have one of the world's best Ferrari mechanics in my backyard - Carlo at Alfa of Tacoma. Seriously. People from all over the US buy Ferraris and ship them to Carlo to get his blessing. He doesn't pull punches. If he says it's a dog, it's a dog. If he says it's a gem, you should do whatever you can to buy it.

Unfortunately, he said it was a dog.

Specifically, he said the engine would need to be rebuilt. It failed compression testing and leakdown. The brakes were dangerous. The frame was bent from being put on a lift improperly. The timing belt was falling off. The report went on for 4 pages. It was a disaster.

So once again, I'm back to being Ferrari-less. I'd like to leave you with a philosophical comment or some great life lesson that I learned here, but I'm just bummed.

Are You Kidding Me?!

This is yet another story that I should probably keep to myself, but I'm putting it out there in the hopes that you'll read this, think I'm a huge donkey, and give me your money at the tables.

I've been running bad. I've tightened up my game, but recently I've had a string of bad beats in large pots. It seems like someone will always turn a set when I have top pair or top two. And it's always with an underpair. Pocket 9's are the death of me. To make matters worse, I've had three sets cracked with ridiculous hands - the worst was a set of Aces cracked by Q-8, when the guy just called my river bet when he had the nuts.

So today, I look down at pocket queens in early position and come in for a raise. The small blind and big blind call and we see a flop of Qh-9h-4d. Top set! Okay, how am I going to lose this one?

I bet out and get raised by the small blind. Big blind calls and I three bet. The small blind has been raising draws regardless of position, so I don't want to see another heart. Both just call.

Turn - 3h. Of course.

Small blind checks, but I think I see a little drool at the corner of his mouth. Big blind checks and I check too. The old me bets here, but I'm just tired of getting my ass kicked.

River - another F***in' heart.

Now the small blind bets out. Big blind folds, and I turn over my stupid top set and show everyone how bad I'm running. But, for whatever reason, I convinced myself that he could have two pair. It's reasonable, right? So, with the cards almost in the muck, I toss in one big bet. Suddenly there is a big commotion. Huh? Small blind turns over the nut flush, but the dealer is yelling something at the floor.

"High hand! Queens full of 4s!"

That's right folks. The bad beats had blinded me to the fact that the board paired. All I saw were 4 hearts.

Not only did that reluctant bet win me a big pot, but Queens-full was good enough for 2nd place in the high-hand race. It would have been 1st, but someone else got a royal flush.

Hee-haw!

Review - Mini Sirloin Burgers from Jack-in-the-Box

If there's an upside to the weight I've put on since I got back from Iraq, it's that it gives me more credence as a food reviewer. Never trust a skinny guy when he tells you about the latest fast-food craze.

I LOVE White Castle and Crystal Burger. In fact, I'd bet you right now that I've paid more for a Crystal Burger than anyone reading this post. When I was leaving for Iraq, we had to spend a week at Ft. Benning, Georgia (I was stationed there 10 years ago and it's where my son was born). I got a chance to sneak off onto Victory Drive for dinner one night, but the shuttles had all stopped running. Long story short, I underestimated how much it would cost in a taxi to get a burger. $60 dollars later, I was one happy guy.

Unfortunately, there is no such restaurant in Federal Way, Washington. But wait! Burger King is now offering a similar mini burger in a 2-pack or 6-pack. I had a couple the other day, and while it's no White Castle (no sauteed onions and the burger wasn't quite right), I'd give them a B- for the effort.

Today I had Jack-in-the-Box's version. The burger was too thick, and it was tasteless. The bun was uninspired. The cheese was even lame. They come in a three pack, but I could eat only one (as opposed to my personal best 11 White Castle burgers).

It sucked.

Bottom line - if you have one available, go to White Castle or Crystal Burger. If you must have something after a long night of drinking, BK is your bet. If you go to Jack, stick with the Monster Taco. It will give you the worst heartburn you can imagine, but it still beats their lame-assed attempt at dethroning the king. Who in this case lives in a castle. A crystal castle.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't write food reviews after midnight.

Um... Sorry 'bout That

My youngest son is prone to screaming when he's frustrated. I'd had enough of it so I stormed into the room and said to both boys, "If one of you isn't bleeding, you're both going to Time Out."

That's when my older son showed me the blood coming from his thumb. Which came from a samurai chop. From screaming boy.

Well, if you aren't bleeding to death, go to time out anyway!

Shut Up! - The All Girl Version

I'm glad you are all having so much fun at my expense. Waffles is having a contest to see who can top my story, and now The Wife is accepting a challenge from MHG to replay my story, but with all women.

I think MHG may have had a different idea about how the women would have acted differently. I know I sure did. I'm kind of impressed that in The Wife's version, there was still confrontation (even if it was catty).

I love a good catfight.

Check it out here.

Seat 7 Laid Down Queens?!

In the aftermath of the ugliness, I've been asked about the hand where Seat 7 folded Queens face-up. Here are the particulars:

• Seat 5 was UTG and raised pre-flop to $20 with As-Ks. Seat 6 called. Seat 7 (with the Queens) also called.
• Before all was said and done, SEVEN people called the $20, putting $140 into the pot.
  
• The flop was 4s-6s-10c
• Seat 5 checks the overcards and nut-flush draw.
• Seat 6 bets out $50.
• Seat 7 raises to $125. He has about $300 behind
• If folds around to seat 5 who goes all in (he has about $1000 behind)

Here is my analysis. Seat 5 is representing a set. He doesn't have air. He has no idea of the strength of seat 7s hand because you'd expect a large overpair to have re-raised pre-flop.

In the end, seat 7 would have had to put $300 more into the pot in order to win $740. If seat 5 has a set, seat 7 is way behind. With As-Ks, seat 5 has 15 outs twice.

Do you fold queens there?

Shut Up! - The Reveal?

Sometimes you have to heed the advice of your lawyer.
Every time I ignore lawyers, I get in trouble.
"Asshole," as a label, fits both Seat 5 and Seat 7
Therefore, it doesn't really matter which one I was. I was wrong.

7 or five. Both deserve the title of "Loser." I am ashamed.

Shut Up!

Yes, I know it's 3am, but I have to tell you this story while it's still fresh on my mind.

Folks, I love a good fight, especially when it happens at a poker table. There have been some legendary battles at the Muckleshoot. It usually involves a drunk on tilt. I've seen a lot of pushing and shoving. There was a famous incident where a guy dropped his pants and mooned the dealer. Another guy deliberately poured his drink into the automatic card mixer. These antics usually attract security to the table pretty quickly. Well tonight there were no less than 15 security guards surrounding my 3/5 NL table. This was clearly an event!

Here's how it went down. We start this story 2 hands ago. The 5 seat pulls off a huge semi-bluff. When seat 7 says, "If I fold, will you show me?" seat 5 agrees. Seat 7 tables his pocket queens and seat 5 turns over AK suited for the draw. Seat 7 may be on tilt, but doesn't show it.

Yet.

There is one hand in the interim and then seat 5 gets involved in the biggest pot of the night with seat 1 and seat 4. With $1500 in the pot and seat 4 all in, seat 5 faces an all in from seat 1. He ponders a long time before seat 4 calls the clock.

Seat 5 asks the dealer, "How much time do I have?" Devin replies that he has 30 seconds. Seat 5 waits until 1 second left before folding.

Seat 7, who is not involved in the hand (but may still be on tilt from two hands ago), is chiding seat 5 for being "one of those guys who watches too much TV and is just wasting everyone's time before folding." After the hand is over, seat 5 says to another player, "I was just trying to piss off that guy," and points to seat 7. Seat 7 replies, "Me? You weren't just wasting my time. You were wasting everyone's time." Seat 5 looks at seat 7 and says, "Shut up." What happened next was unbelievable.

Seat 7 flips out. He leaps up causing his chair to go flying backwards. He slams a drink table out of the way and goes right behind seat 5 and says, "Get up." He didn't yell it, but it was quite menacing. Seat 5 stays right where he is, and that's when Devin calls for the supervisor.

The next 5 minutes were a bit of a jumble. Seat 5 was desperately trying to convince the dealer and floor guy that seat 7 was out of control and threatening and needed to be kicked out immediately. Interestingly, seat 7 never said a word. The floor kept asking Devin the dealer to tell what really happened, but seat 5 wouldn't let him get a word in edgewise. It got so bad that Devin got up and yelled at the supervisor, "Don't ever do this to me again! Take control!"

By this time, the entire security team showed up. The floor called in another dealer and said, "All right. No one is getting kicked out, but you all need to calm down and just play poker." At this point seat 7 finally spoke up and calmly said, "I would like to leave. Would you please have someone from security walk with me to the exit?"

Everyone seemed relieve to see seat 7 go. Still, it probably would have been more exciting if it actually came to blows.

Now, here is your test. Which seat was I sitting in?

Edit: If you are reading this on Google Reader or via RSS, you may have noticed a couple inconsistencies in the numbering. Hopefully that's all been fixed.

Twilight

The Chako clan are fans of the movie Twilight. As many of you know, much of the movie was based in/film at Forks, WA. As the crow flies, it's not that far from where I live south of Seattle. As the car drives; however, it's about 500 miles round trip.

So, that's just what we did. Saturday morning, we packed the family (including one Au Pair and one mother-in-law) into the van and headed for the extreme Pacific Northwest.





Forks, WA is about what you'd expect. Not much there other than a few spectacular rainbows. We went searching for the high school, but didn't find it. Just west of Forks is La Push, which was featured in the movie. It's even better than you'd imagine. It felt other-worldly. The only place I've felt that way was when we were on the volcano in Hawaii.

The next day we hit Cape Flattery, which is the furthest northwest you can get in the continental US. We loved the view across the Strait of Juan de Fuca to the Canadian mountains.

Other than a little boredom after such a long drive, I think everyone had a blast.

Dilbert Blog

I read Scott Adams' blog every day. You should, too. He's always entertaining and thought provoking, often weaving humor throughout his posts. Today he asked an interesting question:

If you have a white collar job, leave a comment telling me two things:
(1) What is the next WORK item you expect to do.
(2) Tell me why it's probably going to be a waste of time.

I've never commented on his blog before, but today I registered and left a cheeky note. He has a unique feature which lets people vote comments up or down. For whatever reason, my comment is the highest rated on his post from today. I don't know why this pleases me, but it does.

So, what's your answer to his question?

Mookie? Me? Seriously?

That's right folks - I played my first Mookie. Didn't do 1/2 bad finishing 25th. I played super tight and lasted through the 2nd break. Alas, I ran into Aces, which is an honorable way to go.

I wouldn't have played at all if it weren't for the urging of my brudder. Thanks for the push. . . and the PUSH. I'll take a last-longer with you anytime. As promised, drinks are on me next time we get together.

Have a Toke and a Smile

I played another session of 8/16 today. This time I didn't give back the profit and nearly quadrupled up.

The only negative to the session was one dealer who was really just going through the motions. Whenever I win a pot, I always toss the dealer a toke - usually just one chip, but on big pots I'll go two. On rare occasions, I've tossed a red bird, but usually only if the pot is over $500. I know - I'm cheap. But, if you're gonna beat the rake, every little bit helps.

Well, of all the tips I give in my daily life (and I consider myself a reasonable tipper), I usually expect something in return. Dealers really don't do anything to help me win a specific pot, but I know they do more than just sling cards. They keep the action moving and referee when necessary. I appreciate it, and it's how I justify the toke.

Well, when I flipped this dealer a chip, she didn't even blink. She just put it in her tip box and shuffled the deck for the next deal. Not so much as a smile or a nod. Not even the old "bang the chip loudly on the box" trick. Nothing. It pissed me off.

The next pot I won, I put a single chip on my winning hand and slid it toward the dealer. As she reached for it, I casually took the chip off the cards and put it back in my stack. No toke for you! Well, it seemed like she didn't even notice. I was hoping for a reaction. Something. Anything.

Nope. Nada.

So, the next pot I won (did I mention it was a good session) was a really big one. I'd feel like an ass if I didn't tip something. So this time, I said to her, "If I tip you, will you at least give me a smile?"

Well, that was all she needed to come out of her shell. She smiled at me and was all smiles for the rest of her down. Her tips (not just from me) reflected it, I think.

If there are any dealers out there that read this, keep this in mind. Please don't take my tokes for granted. It will be better for you in the long run.

"My Name is Sue!"

I'm an unabashed Johnny Cash fan. So was Dad. Now my son is, too. Here's the song I've been playing for him every night at bedtime. Johnny and Dad did it better, but just by a little.



PS. Go give some love to Waffles.

Poker Content!

After all, this is a blog called Poker Doctor.

I was on call at the hospital this weekend. I left to attend a dinner party with The Wife, but then had to go back in to work. I was there until 2 am Saturday night/Sunday morning. We got our butts kicked. I have a sneaky suspicion a lot of the extra work was due to overzealous St. Patty's Day revelers.

So, today I was off and free to do my own thing. I've got a ton of paperwork to file for my side business, but I chose to play poker instead. Not much to report. I won a ridiculous pot with AK on a King-high flop. It was capped pre-flop 6 ways. The flop was capped 5 ways and the turn and river were both two-bet by three people. I just check-called. Imagine my surprise when it came my way! I was up against KJ, pocket queens and a busted flush draw that caught a pair of tens but paid off on the river anyway. $544. That's just crazy with TPTK. But that's 8/16 at Diamond Lil's.

More interesting to me was that there were 3 tables (!) of 20/40 going. I desperately want to get back into that game, but I have to earn my way there. I still have too many leaks, as evidenced by the fact that even though I won a $500+ pot, I just broke even for the session. I've had some big scores at that table, but right now I'm focusing on bankroll management, and I'm not ready.

Well, enough about me. Right now, The Wife is in need of your support. Don't ask silly questions. Just go say "hi," and let her know you care.

Edit: Every now and then, I find myself longing for a simpler time. It doesn't get any simpler than singing your ABC's. You can thank me later.

Help Requested

While waiting for The Wife to come home from work, I was clicking around the internet. I'm a big fan of Craigslist. After getting bored surfing for Ferrari's, I clicked on "Therapeutic Services." An interesting ad came up titled, "Come Experience The Most Exhilarating Massage!!!" I opened the ad, but I got a text from a buddy and didn't close it.

That's when she walked in.

What do I do now?

Sad Anniversaries

Miss you, Dad.

Lost & Found

For those that care to notice, I briefly put a message on my Google Chat profile that said, "l o s t . . ."

I'm not sure why I put it there. Maybe it was a cry for help. There really is no help anyone can offer because I don't have a specific problem. In fact, you could argue that I am nearly problem-less. I am the antithesis of problematic. Life couldn't get any better. People envy my life. I've got the perfect job. The perfect kids. The perfect nanny. And I've got The Wife. Seriously, could you ask for anything more?

Well, since you asked - yes you could.

My whole life has been structured. High school. College. Well, okay. That one didn't start out all that structured, which is why I dropped out and joined the Army. Back to structure. Back to college. Med school. Army. Internship. Residency. Germany. Washington. Lieutenant Colonel.

And now I'm out of the Army, I am adrift on a sea of structureless perfection. I get up. I go to work. I come home. Wash, rinse and repeat. This is such a foreign concept to me that I don't know what to do. Well, technically that's not true. In the absence of structure, I go looking for it. Lately, I have been contacting recruiters to see if perhaps I should go into the Reserves. Or maybe back on Active Duty. Today I had a lengthy discussion with a Navy recruiter. How does Commander Chako sound? A helluva lot better than Commander Riker if you ask me.

You see, I need structure in my life. Something to look forward to. Some guiding hand that leads me around. I'm restless. Why can't it be like it was when someone else decided my fate?

As it turns out, the hands of fate may have a little twist in store for the Chako household. Perhaps it's no coincidence that the one year anniversary of my father's death is this week. Perhaps it's no coincidence that as I hovered my mouse over my "l o s t . . ." message, it drifted over my sister's icon, which happens to be showing a picture of my dad.

Whatever the reason for the uncertainty, I find myself extremely excited at the unknown. I'm fond of the saying, "It all works out in the end." I really believe it. It's time to test the theory.

Tilting Lee Jones

Well, despite good intentions, I just don't have the motivation to write up the rest of the Mastodon weekend. It was awesome on a whole other level. That's all you need to know.

That said, I promised a post about Tilting Lee Jones, and here it is. Let me spoil the surprise right here in the beginning - you can't tilt Lee. But, you can make him raise an eyebrow. Unfortunately, "Lee Jones Raises an Eyebrow" isn't a catchy title for a blog post.

First of all, let me say how cool it was to sit in a home game and have one of your poker heroes volunteer to be the dealer. Seriously - he dealt PLO, PLO8 and NL Hold 'em until 4 am. He was right there with correct bet amounts whenever a random drunk (i.e. ME) yelled, "POT!" He was courteous, kind and conversational. In short, he's the kind of guy I would want in MY home game. Oh yeah, he's also the guy that wrote the first poker book I ever read, "Winning Low-Limit Hold'em." I told him a story about the book (which I don't think he believed, but it's absolutely true), that I played in a tournament with a young kid and beat him soundly. Afterwards he came up to me asking for advice. It was obvious to me that he didn't know the basics. He asked me what to read and Lee's book was the only one I recommended. Well, that kid came back two weeks later and busted me out early from the same tournament.

When I told this to Lee he seemed confused. You see, his book has nothing to do with tournament play. Why would it be helpful in this situation? Well, it does such a great job at covering the basics that it really applies to all situations. If you are even remotely interested in poker, pick it up.

Now the hand. I have position and we are playing PLO. Lee pots it in early position and I call with A-2-6-Q rainbow (or something really close). The flop is 3-4-x with two diamonds. I have basically nothing at this point. We are heads up and Lee pots it again. I call. My call here was for one reason only. Namely, I'm about to make a play on Lee F-n* Jones. Well, the miracle card comes on the turn - it's the 5 which completes my straight to the six. Lee pots it again, and I do something very strange. I raise him $100. Why didn't I just pot it, you ask? Because I was drunk and excited and I made a mistake. Sue me.

Lee goes into the tank. After probably a full minute, he announces to the table, "I never do this, but if I fold and show you my hand, will you show me yours?"

I'm reminded of a story about a young amateur playing golf with Jack Nicklaus. Jack is minding his own business when the amateur hits a great iron shot. Jack comes over and casually asks, "What club did you hit there?" That one moment will be frozen in time forever. The Master shows interest in the neophyte! I felt the same way.

When I turned over my hand, Lee exclaimed, "A gutshot? You were chasing a gut shot?!"

I replied, "Look at my hand. I had nothing. I called the flop simply to make a play on you. If a diamond comes on the turn and you bet out, I was going to re-pot. As it turned out, I got lucky." **

Well, I don't think Lee believed me. Further evidence of this was that after the game, he gave me an invite to his next home game. It was probably the same way Doyle Brunson would butter up would be "producers" back in the day. Still, I'd take him up on that offer any day. He's true class.


* Not actually his middle name.
** Based on what he was holding, it would have worked. He would have made a flush, but only to the 9.

Mastodon Trip Report

After some hard thinking (read: I finally sobered up), I realize that most of what happened this weekend doesn't translate well to a blog. You had to be there. So, once again, let me coin a phrase from Inigo Montoya, "There is too much. Let me sum up."

As I sat at the bar with Iggy, reveling in the insanity of this group, I was once again awed by his insight. We separately had come to the realization that this group, well, it just works. We each have something to offer and, damnit, it's worth driving or flying from Canada, Chicago, Seattle, or wherever.

Man hugs with BamBam and not-so-man hugs with Pebbles made the trip worthwhile. 'Nuf said.

It was an interesting contrast of brothers. In one corner we had Otis and Dr. Jeff. When my boys grow up, I want them to have this relationship. They look out for each other. In corner #2 we have BG and the (absent) BB. Meeting the other brother was very cool. Technically we had met before, but I just realized they were related. I'm not sure which one was trying to hide the relationship from the public, if in fact they were. Regardless, it all makes sense now.

In the 3rd corner we have Steve and Tripjax. Trip - it was cool meeting you. I hope you survived the elements. 'Nuf said.

Next up - conversations with Otis, BadBlood and Falstaff, and of course, Tilting Lee Jones.

A Blog-Worthy Weekend

So many thing to blog about, but I'm meeting Falstaff for breakfast (at noon - which is in about 10 minutes). Here are some things coming in the next few days:

• Traveling 3000+ miles and not being the one with the most arduous journey
• Seeing and conversing with these degenerates
• Highlights of conversations Al, Iggy, Pebbles & BamBam, Dr. Jeff, Otis, Falstaff and so many more
• Playing the biggest home game ever
• Tilting Lee Jones - this will be a post all by itself
• Seeing Greenville, SC - who knew this was actually a cool place to live?

Now, I must have food.

Playlist

In preparation for my three-legged flight to the debauchery that has come to be known as Mastodon weekend, I am trying to prepare my MP3 player. I have a Sansa (Sandisk) m200 series, and it sucks. That's what I get for cheaping-out and not getting an iPod like everyone else. I used it in Iraq, but it took hours to get music on and off it. I eventually figured it out, but now I can't remember how I did it. My biggest problem is that I have two playlists on the player that are huge. I want to delete them, but Windows Media Player won't let me.

I tried searching for a solution on wikibooks. They have 10 different "solutions," at least two of which are labeled, "This is the easiest way." Then I read stuff like this:

create an extended m3u (EXTM3U) playlist file using Windows Media 9

...and my eyes get all blurry.

Here is where I need your help. Either tell me an easy way to fix this using simple words that I can understand, or tell me to get an iPod.

Thanks.

Life Lessons - from an 11 year old

The Wife was going to blog this, but she's sleeping in order to be rested for skiing later today. I'll give it a shot.

Last night we were out at dinner, and the subject of reciprocity came up. We talked about doing something nice for someone while expecting something in return. I then asked son #1 the following question:

Dr. Chako: What do you call it when someone does something nice for someone and expects nothing in return?

Son #1: Is it... retarded?

Mastodon Weekend

I can't resist a good party. If you need me next weekend, I'll be here:

Help?

My hospital is huge and confusing. There is a central multi-level square with a long hallway to a nursing/bed tower and a 90 degree hallway to a medical mall. Patients are often found wandering the hallways with a confused, lost look in their eyes. The good news is that every single employee here - doctors, nurses, janitorial staff, you name it - will stop a lost soul and ask if they need directions. It's one of the things I love about this place.

Today I was walking past a young orderly who was giving directions to an older woman pushing her husband in a wheelchair. As I approached, I heard the woman say, "Is this the way out? My car is by the nursing tower." As I passed, I heard the orderly reply, "Sure is! Just head down to the elevator, go up one floor, and then out you go!" This caused me to stop in my tracks.

"Excuse me," I interjected. "Were you looking to get out?" They replied that yes, that's exactly what they wanted.

"Well, you can head straight down this hallway, right out the doors into the parking lot. No elevator necessary!"

"Really?" replied the orderly. "We're not in the basement?"

"Umm... see those big windows there? Nope. Not in the basement."

I'm glad I came along when I did. The thought of this woman pushing her husband out the 2nd story window is just terrifying.

Vegas Valentines - Trip Report

What a trip. I can't tell you everything. Suffice it to say it was an incredible time. Despite not seeing 80's hair metal, we still had a blast. This was a people-meeting trip. After hooking up with my buddies Mike and Scott and their lovely better-halves, we all I took off for some entertainment at the Health Club (AKA Olympic Gardens). These stories will only be pulled from me after much alcohol. You're buying. Let's just say I didn't stop smiling until... well, I still haven't stopped. Remind me to tell you about my leather belt.

After we had all the "health" we could handle at the Health Club, we met up with Dave and CK, and I already told you how awesome that was. We got to bed around 4:30am Valentines Day morning, and finally dragged our asses out of bed around noon to play a little poker. I got into a juicy game of 6/12 HORSE just as they were starting the game. First orbit is Hold 'em, and - no fooling - I won 7 of the 9 hands played. It turns out I owe it all to The Hammer!

First hand I'm dealt pocket 7s and I bet on all streets. I win without showing. Next hand I get the all-powerful hammer, so naturally I raise. Two callers and we see a flop with random ugly cards. I bet out and get called by one local. I've played with him before, but I doubt he remembers me. Turn puts two spades out there. I bet. He calls. River is a blank. I bet. He calls. Now here is where the magic happens. I turn over The Hammer and say, "Beat that!"

He turns over King-high. WTF???!!! Are you f-in' serious?! He called me with that?!

Well, I just smiled and congratulated him on a great read. Next hand, I have KK. I get to the river against two others and drag. Next hand I have AK. Everyone folds when I bet the turn. Next hand is 77 again. I flop a set, but the board puts 5 spades out there, and the idiot with pocket 6s has the 6 of spades to take pot #2 away from me.

The remaining hands in the orbit were less memorable, but I won them all. I owe it all to The Hammer. I never would have gotten that much action or made that much money in one orbit without showing down that hand. Yet, despite my awesomeness, I couldn't compete with The Wife (I know. What else is new?). You'll have to go to her blog for that story, though.

In the evening, we met up with my old college buddy Colin and his lovely wife Martha. I haven't seen Colin in almost 18 years. Despite being from London, Ontario, he picked up his family and moved to Vegas to follow his dream of developing a company called THUNDERBALL! which markets and showcases golfing long-drive champions. He's even going to have 3 shows on the Golf Channel. And I can say, "I knew him when."

We ended the trip with The Wife at the spa and me at a juicy 1/2 NL table, booking yet another win. All in all, it was a great trip. The Wife may say differently, but I couldn't think of anyone else I'd want to spend Valentines Day weekend with.

Vegas Valentines

We got into Vegas last night at 10pm and never stopped running. Our tale of the evening is Olympic Gardens, where we had our own Existentialist Conversations with Strippers. My favorite line?

"Wow! 21 years in the Army AND you were in Iraq? How are you are totally not F***ed up?"

This was followed by drinks with the lovely CK and her man-toy. We have such a great time when we get together. Give me someone who tells great stories any day!

More later. Perhaps.

Cars - Part V The Final Reveal

Are you ready for the big finale? Here it is!

I bought a Ferrari.

Let that roll around in your head for a while. While it's percolating, you wanna see it? Here it is:

Beautiful isn't it?

I love the interior. I love the exterior. This car is the culmination of my lifelong dream. I feel like I should be standing on a podium accepting it as an award. "I'd like to thank all the people that made this possible," I would say.

At this point, I imagine your reactions are varied. If you are a guy, you might be thinking, "Good for you! I'd do it if I had the means." Others amongst you are sadly shaking your heads and thinking, "Hasn't he heard about the economy? Doesn't he know people are losing their jobs left and right? How callous can he be?!"If you are married to me, you now have confirmation that your husband is, in fact, an idiot. You also are looking at real estate because one of us might have to move out (not as far from reality as you might think). And finally, at least one of you has proposed marriage. At this point in time, I'm still taken, but check back in a little while.

Now, before you write me off completely, here comes The Rest of the Story. The car was aggressively priced. They are still expensive, but this one was about $10K below market. Of course, I insisted on an independent pre-purchase inspection (PPI) from a reputable dealer. It turns out that these PPI places are few and far between in the outback of Alabama, where the car was located. I found a place called Hesco in Birmingham. I can't say enough good things about these guys. They were up front that they didn't work on a lot of Ferraris, but they'd do their best. Here is a short list of what they found:

• The exhaust was cracked and leaking
• The catalytic converters were broken
• It might need a new clutch
• There was oil seepage
• The dash was pulling at the edges
• The electric canvas top needed "help" (a push with the hand) whenever it was closed
• The under panels were broken
• The brake sensor wires were disconnected

Some of these are known issues with this model Ferrari (the 360 F1 Spider), but it all adds up to make this car even more expensive than one in good repair. End result? No Ferrari. At least not right now.

It would be an understatement of epic proportions to say that The Wife is relieved. At the very least, she doesn't have to kick me to the curb (at least not yet). If we buy real estate it will be as an investment, not as a place for me to move into. We also don't have to park one of our cars in the driveway, which would have been necessary with a 4th car.

This was the right decision, for many reasons. For now, the dream of ownership remains just that - a dream. For one shining moment, I was a Ferrari owner. I will be again, some day. Hopefully, I'll be able to hang on to all the other great things in my life, too.

My Sci-Fi Character

My last installment of the Cars series would be here already if I didn't keep getting distracted with these silly things!

Seattle Blogger Home Game!

This is what I was facing to my right!

Many thanks to MeanHappyGuy for hosting. I was going to write a bunch of flowery stuff, but it's been done by better writers than me already. My thoughts are these:

• Yes, The Wife is HOT. When I saw what she intended to wear, I almost didn't want to leave the house. But that would be selfish, no? Remember, I have a huge ego. What better way to show everyone my awesomeness than parading around my trophy wife in her low-cut tee-shirt.



• I drank WAY too much.



• I'm awesome at Roshambo.



• Fortunately, because I won at Roshambo, it meant I didn't have to drive home.



• Unfortunately, it also meant that I didn't care at all that The Wife was being ogled and fondled by a bunch of horny geek poker-bloggers. Right in front of me. A lot.



• It also meant that I donked off half my stack in the cash game because I couldn't read my own hand. Apparently the alcohol made me think I had the ability to read other hands, though. Yeah, not so much.



• Donking off my stack wouldn't have hurt so much until I realized that most of it was to our host, who also wrote a memorable write up of the evening. Basically, he got my money and he got to rub all over The Wife. I'm pretty sure I got the raw end of that deal.



• All totalled, it was everything you would want in a poker blogger gathering. If you weren't there, you missed one helluva night.



• Did I mention that The Wife is hot?

Cars - Part IVa

Okay - one quicky before my final reveal. This one also has to do with cars, kinda.

I was driving to work yesterday morning when I passed a Mercedes Benz sport coupe. I caught a flash of short blonde hair from the driver, but that's about it. If you know me, you know I have an innate fear of blondes (believing they are evil in some way), but that doesn't stop me from acknowledging a cute one in the wild.

Well, we get to the stop light and she pulls along side of me. Actually, she had stopped a little short, but then she pulled up right next to my car. She was checking ME out! We made eye contact and both smiled at each other. I lost the staring contest and looked away first. As the light turned green, I checked once again. Sure enough - big smile aimed right at me. I've still got it!

As she pulled away, I caught her license plate:

BUBBY-3

If anyone needs me, I'll be drinking heavily.

Cars - Part IV

In the 4th of this 5 part series, I want to point out three additional items that brought me to the obsessive idiot I am today.

Matchbox

Most of the guys out there - the real ones that didn't play with dolls - had Matchbox cars as a kid. I understand some of those old cars may actually be worth something today, but as a kid I didn't care. I loved racing them around the shag-pile carpet and up the wood-paneled walls of my little house in upstate New York. I made all the noises and added the crashing sound effects, too. At one point, I had a car much like the Ferrari F50 in the picture, but I accidentally stepped on it. At first I was crushed (no pun intended), but then I realized it was even cooler now that it was flatter. Aerodynamics, baby!

Do NOT Speed on 684!

Mom had a lead foot. Mom had a Chevy Impala. Mom drove fast.

After I got my license, I figured out that certain cars had an extra little umph when you stepped on them. This was that car. A big ol' 8-cylinder engine is a dangerous thing in the hands of an 18 year old. We had a road that ran between Poughkeepsie and Connecticut called Highway 684. It was notorious for cops. There were speed traps every 5 miles or so. Being the clever kid I was, I figured out where all the traps were and found out that if I timed it just right, I could drive really fast without getting caught. Well, I passed the cut off and gunned the engine. I watched that needle slide to the right. 110. 120. 130. I passed a mile marker and checked my watch. When I passed the next mile marker only 26 seconds had elapsed. The speedometer said I was doing 140. Off the gas and feather the brakes. Down to a more respectable 55. Check the mirror. No cops. Whew.

Fine Corinthian Leather

I can still hear the voice of Ricardo Montelban on the commercial for the Plymouth Volare. Dad got a deal on it from his buddy, Bob. It had 4-on-the-floor and it was much cooler then the green station wagon (or the Volkswagon bus that I can barely remember). One day Dad says to me, "Wanna see a power shift?" Before I could ask what that was, Dad punches the gas and starts flying through the gears. He had this intense look of concentration. I was about 13 years old and just giggling from the passenger's seat. After we slowed down, Dad explained that he used to race an old TR3 when he lived in Kerhonkson. I knew it! Dad was a racer.

Next up - the final installment.

Cars - Part III

Originally this was supposed to be a 3 part series. After I found this video, I realized that the video with Riccardo Patrese was actually Part I. That makes my long entry Part II and this Part III.

I love driving a car with a manual shifter. Some people aren't so good at it. At least they aren't this bad!

Short Break from Cars

Part II of Cars should come tomorrow or the next day. For now I have three shorts that may or may not be related.

1. A paper grocery bag has been sitting at the end of my driveway for about a week. I've ignored it until today. When I opened it, I found two Ziploc baggies filled with white powder. I left it right where I found it, and after a short powwow with The Wife, I called 911.

2. Michael Phelps' halo has come crashing around his neck, potentially costing him millions. Dude, I've seen the picture. That could have been anyone! Did you have to come out and admit it was you right away?! Plausible deniability. C'mon man. Your sin is choosing your friends poorly.

3. The latest issue of Truckin' is out. Go. Read.

Any similarity between these three drug-related items is probably coincidental.

Cars - Part I

People that know me well know about my obsession with Ferrari. Hell, people that don't know me well probably know about it, too. I do tend to go on and on about them. It's gotten to the point where I've overheard people talking about me and saying, "Dr. Chako? Yeah, he's that Ferrari-guy." But where did this come from?

The love affair begins at, of all places, IHOP

Dad and I were just coming out after breakfast. There in the parking lot sat two beautiful sports cars. I had never heard of Maserati before, but Dad sure had. The reverent tone he used when talking about them must have rung differently to my 8 year old ears. I would come to find out later that I was looking at matching Meraks, one red and one blue.

They looked mean just sitting there. I was hooked. We talked about them on the way home. Seeing my enthusiasm, Dad was sure to mention how unreliable they were and how rare it was to see one in the wild, since most were sitting in a shop somewhere, waiting on expensive parts that might never come. He wasn't convincing, though. I don't think he wanted to be.





What's a Ghia? Sounds Ghey.


Despite the horrible-sounding name, the next car to catch my fancy was the Karmann Ghia. I think it was even this color:


We again saw it in the parking lot of another restaurant, this time at a diner on Route 9 in Wappingers Falls, NY. It intrigued me because it was unlike anything else on the road. The name sounded cool, too. It was a car with hips. And it was small, too. Small and sexy with hips - does it come as a surprise that I was hitting puberty right about this time?


Gotta love Italians

Next up was the Detomasso Pantera. This was the first car I actually heard as well as saw. In a neighborhood filled with Iroc's and Mustangs, this car really stood out. The rear tires seems wider than they had a right to be and the sound was intoxicating. I was a little disappointed to find out they weren't true blood Italian sports cars, having a Ford powerplant, but I could tell by the curves that no American was at the helm of the design team.

I'm never washing this gash on my face again!

The last major formative car from my youth (besides the Ferrari) was an El Camino.


I hated the design and I hated the guy who drove it. He was one of the older boys and he was mean. Still, he had a car and I, being about 15 or 16, didn't. He used to pass us when we were waiting for the school bus. On more than one occasion, he'd gun it and spin the tires, throwing rocks all over us. I hated him for that most of all. Still, I envied him and vowed that some day, I'd be the one with the cool car. And I'd never abuse the power, either.





Next up, the inevitable transition to Ferrari.