The Man

Aug 22, 2004

On Friday, I went with my work buddies to Dixie's BBQ. If you haven't been there, you really have to go... it's a totally insane experience. First of all, the place is a complete dive. From what I understand, it used to be a car mechanic shop, and it looks like it. Second, there is the insane cashier lady. Though she was incredibly nice to be this trip... usually it is a very scary experience. Much like the Soup Nazi episode on Seinfeld, you get the feeling that if you say the wrong thing, you will be yelled at and banished forever. And then... there is The Man

Gene is the ower of Dixie's BBQ. He is a fun old black man, chock full of character. He loves to interact with the customers, and likes the word "Baby". As in, "Hey Baby, you met the man?". Word of advice, if he asks you if you have "met the man", reguardless of how you feel about being called Baby... just say you have met him, and that you hate him, and that he hates you. Alot. It might help to break down in tears.

The Man is this hot sauce that Gene carries around in ... well, I would call it a small cauldron. A small cauldron from deep in the bowels of hell. Lets say the heat of a hot sauce is represented by the size, of say... a rock. So, a green pepper (not hot) is like a grain of sand. A Jalepeno (fairly hot), is like, a rock the size of your fist. A habenero, is probably a boulder, the size of ... well... you. Using this same scale, I would say The Man is at least the size of Half Dome. Though, honestly, I think the Moon would be closer.

I can't even fathom how something even gets that hot. For perspective, I really enjoy roasted jalepenos. Yes, I think they are hot at times, but they are bearable. The Man is not bearable. Gene rubbed the slightest of slight amounts on my buddy Noah's pork rib. He literally used the back of the spoon, and just touched it to the meat. Then Noah took his fork, and just barely touched it to The Man. Then Noah put the fork in his mouth. What. A. Freakin. Idiot. Noah's face turned bright red. Noah wanted to cry.

I had maybe 1/8th of a teaspon, spread over my entire sandwich, and my mouth was En Fuego. Impressive stuff really. I figure it's an intricate mix of habeneros and sulfuric acid. At any rate, people then get these great bumper sticks that read "I Met The Man at Dixie's BBQ". Seems to be the bumper sticker might as well read "I cried like a little girl at Dixies BBQ".

So remember... correct answer to "OOoooh Baby! Have you met the man?" is "Get away from me you crazy freak!". But enjoy the meat and southern sweet tea, both are awesome, and much preferrable to sulfuric acid.

The weird thing about poker

Aug 19, 2004

Just got home from playing poker with my buddies, and phil. ;-) In the second tournament (we play no limit texas holdem), phil makes some sort of obnoxious raise (he does that). I call w/ A,8 offsuit. Not a strong hand but it's playable, especially against Phil, who will raise with all kinds of junk. I really don't remember the exact cards that came on the flop -- but I know it was 8 high... giving me the top pair, with the best kicker. So, I move all-in. Phil thinks for awhile and calls. Phil shows complete junk... Ace-Ten. Since I already have an Ace... an ace on the turn or river won't help him. His only outs are one of the 3 Tens left in the deck. Naturally... he hit one, and I was out. We hate phil. ;-)

But it did get me thinking. Phil got lucky. So at the time, I was cursing luck. Luck is bad. Luck is evil. The game should be purely about skill. However, this is actually the biggest crock of crap since... well, crock's were invented.

And the reasoning for this is simple. If there were no luck... two things would happen.
  1. I wouldn't be good enough to play. There are too many smart people, too many math wizzes, too many people who can calculate statistics better and faster than me.
  2. The bad plays, that other people make... that make our hero (me) money... would dry up. Phil's call was bad. He called, because he thought he could get lucky. Turns out he was right, but in reality, I win that hand (and double up my chips) 85% of the time.
So, we must learn to savor luck, but good and bad. Without it, the smart people beat us up, and the dummies who give us money will know they are beat, and stop playing. Hurray for luck!

Obsessions and Plateaus

Aug 18, 2004

Over the years, I have noticed a strange and interesting battle. It's a battle that takes place within me... every day. It is the battle between my obsessive and highly addictive personality... and my complete inability to deal with a plateau. What in the hell does that mean? Lemme explain.

I am constantly obsessed with something. Typically it is something that I can "get better at". It might be chess, it might be a computer game, really it could be anything (lately its been Poker and the computer game Rise of Nations). So, every day I am doing my obsession.. fueling the addiction. I am playing 3 games of poker while reading about Rise of Nations on the web, and chatting with my friends about poker and games.

Yet, at the same time... frustration is setting in. I certainly couldn't handle SUCKING at these games, or other obsessions. I have to at least be competitive. I will practice, read, whatever... to make sure I don't suck. But, it turns out that being good at something takes... like... effort. Something I really would rather avoid. :) Without fail, I reach a plateau. Going from sucky to pretty good is easy, but going from pretty good, to really good... nope, never easy.

And then I am stuck in a bad situation. I am frustrated because I am not winning as often as I would like... but I have reached that plateau, and don't have the desire to *really* devote energy to being great. So, I end up addicted to something that frustrates me. Probably not the best way to go through life... but hey, at least I can always find new obsessions at each plateau. :)

Fiscal Responsibility

Aug 14, 2004

I am not really one to get worked up about political issues. It takes effort... something I like to avoid. And I am certainly not someone who throws around sophisticated terms like fiscal responsibility very often... for that I give credit to his-uber-smartness, Jamie Cool. But alas, I feel I must pay some lip service to the subject of the national debt. Please ignore the irony of spending government money to create a web page telling us how much money we don't have. :)

So. Why do I care about the national debt? Why should you care? It's not as simple as "Well, gee Gilbert, you should only borrow money if you plan on paying it back" Even if it's 7.3 trillion dollars"! Nah, I don't care a lick about the 7.3 trillion.

Here is why I care. Interest. It turns out that the interest on 7.3 trillion dollars is rather substantial. About 400 billion dollars a year... or roughly $1,357 per citizen, per year. But hey... its not like you had a use for that money, right?

Well, how has Shrub (my buddy Conor's swweeeet name for Bush Jr) done for the good old national debt? Well, 4 years ago... the debt was a mere 5.7 trillion. Still an absurd amount... but 1.6 trillion less absurd.

It would seem that letting the debt continue to grow, and grow... is not exactly what I would call fiscally responsible. This isn't like the stats you hear about making minimum payments on high interest credit card debts... and it takes like 20 years to pay off a thousand bucks. We aren't paying off the damn debt at all! And now we are in a nasty circle... as the debt grows, so does the interest payments on debt, causing further deficits, thus further increasing the debt, around and around.

Strangely, during this all important election year, the candidates don't really discuss the issue. Well, except to talk about yummy tax cuts. Ya, uh, those are fiscally responsible.