Wednesday, February 04, 2004

It's Official

Well, I didn't chicken out.

I was due to work a 12:30-11PM shift today. Since I went to bed early last night (around 9, I think), I was up this morning at 11 -- plenty of time to get in a few orbits of $5/$10.

I seem to remember from when I played $5/$10 before (mostly the 6-rings, then) that I did the best during the day, and today is no exception, as I go up about $250 in the two hours I wait to shit/shower/shave and go tell the managers I'm taking the rest of my life off from that place.

That ended up being far less dramatic than I had expected; I didn't even bring out my manifesto. But most of my co-workers were surprised to see me; I had to explain a couple of times that I wasn't there to work my shift.

The only bummer about going in was that cute vendor-chick had already eaten, so I didn't get to take her to lunch. I asked if she was up for a Griffins game on Friday, but I got an excuse I haven't got before: "I already have a date with X."

In any case, I went to lunch afterwards, the same place I would usually go when I was working, only today I threw them a curve: I ordered an actual beer in place of my usual root beer. I was jazzed, exhilarated, pumped, you name it, but the country music was actually sounding good to me.

I still am, to an extent. I don't remember the last time I was this jazzed about something. I think it's the second scariest thing I've ever done, though.

You say you want a revolution? Well, you know, we all want to change the world

The scariest was, if I remember correctly, in the fall of 1997. For those who don't know I spent a lot of the 1990s doing work for the Libertarian Party. Well, around that time I became convinced that the party should, without fail, run a candidate for Governor in 1998. (They weren't planning on it, for reasons I don't need to go into.) With the most likely person physically and financially drained from two tough campaigns in 1994 and 1996, I decided that I myself would be the candidate.

The scary bit was when I "took the show on the road," beginning to speak to the various chapters of the Libertarian Party of Michigan to gain support for the idea. That launched the campaign in an unmistakable way, putting me out for ridicule, exposure, whatever ills one can fear when taking a big and public step like that.

Unfortunately (and this ticked me off at the time), I had misremembered the way the Michigan Constitution reads on the subject of who is qualified to be Governor. Specifically, I remember noticing that one is eligible to be elected to the state House and Senate at 21, and assuming that also applied to the Governor's office. But no, I've linked the relevant section, and I needed to be 30. I was only going to have been 28 at the time of the 1998 election.

The scary bit was not the semi-ridicule I had to face when it turned out I was on the road for nothing, it was the act itself.

As it turned out, 1998 would have been a great time for the Libertarians to run a candidate for Governor. The Democrats ended up nominating Geoffrey Feiger, a windbag lawyer who gained a national name for himself by defending Jack Kevorkian through his assisted-suicide trials, and the Republicans of course renominated John Engler for a third term. A well-run Libertarian campaign probably could have beaten Feiger to come in second.

Looking forward

So, unbelievably, I am now a poker pro. At least in the sense of "I don't have a job right now, and I don't plan to get one as long as my bankroll holds out." But I don't believe that $100 a day won't continue to be feasible for at least the next two years.

And so this blog, this journal, becomes more important as a way of tracking how I feel about the game on the good days and bad days. I don't expect a lot more posts about big scores, because I shouldn't be (won't be) entering tournaments at least until I make my nut. I'm on a bad run in those, too, so taking a break from them is probably a good idea. Go back to the ring games.

I'm really curious, now, what happens to my mental state the day I take my first big loss. I hereby send this mantra into the future: It will get better ... It will get better ...