The Colonel T Show

I’m headed to Cleveland for the holiday, where I plan to celebrate our nation’s 229th birthday by eating and drinking and sleeping, just as the founding fathers intended. It is highly unlikely I’ll be blogging, since I’m not taking my laptop, and my in-laws’ desktop computer is an Atari 800.

Cheers, and Happy Independence Day!

The Poker Odyssey isn’t over yet (far from it) but I don’t want this to become a poker heavy blog. I’m going to keep a running total of my balance over in the hyperlinks to the right, and I’ll only write game analysis when something really fascinating happens.

Longtime Colonel T fans know all about my nigh-Narcissistic obsession with my own hair. (Need proof? Read this page. Or this one. Or this one.) In my entire life, I’ve had two haircuts that I would describe as “not abysmal.” I seem to lack the capacity to properly communicate what I want my hair to look like. “Bill Pullman in Independence Day” is generally met with blank stares or pity by most hair stylists.

The best my hair has ever looked in my entire life was yesterday, around noon. Not surprisingly, this was the result of my NOT getting a haircut. One of the benefits of working from home is that grooming (and often, pants) is for the most part optional. Over seven barberless months, my hair became a long, lustrous, thicket of brown-blonde goodness, unruly but sexy, hanging over my ears and down my neck. Those who saw my hair said it made me look years younger. Those who touched my hair called it “a religious experience” and those who tasted my hair called it “better than a chocolate sundae.” Most importantly, my wife liked it, my mom liked it, and if I had a clergyman, I’m sure he would have liked it.

(It occurs to me only now that I don’t have a single picture of those sweet, sweet locks.)

But such wonder cannot, alas, last forever. Just ask Julius Caesar! You see, I had a…consultation…at a prestigious downtown Chicago lawfirm today, and I reluctantly came to the conclusion that I needed to clean myself up. You never get a second chance to make a first impression, you know. That’s in the Bible, written by Jesus.

I didn’t have a lot of time, and I didn’t want to spend a lot of money, so I went to the local Great Clips with the intention of getting my Landon-esque mane trimmed up. (I know, I know, big mistake.)

The Great thing about Great Clips is that every employee, without exception, is required to greet you the exact same way, with a mildly disinterested “Hi, Welcome to Great Clips!” (I swear to you, go to your local Great Clips and be greeted yourself, even if you don’t intend to get a cut.) On this particular Tuesday, my greeter (and apparently the only employee in the store) was a staggeringly beautiful blonde girl named, um, I can’t remember her name. Let’s call her Betty. Betty shuffled up to the counter, looked down, and her face contorted as if she was thinking really, really hard — as if the process caused her pain. Then she looked up at me and said “Hi! Welcome to Great Clips!”

I do believe Betty was reading from a script. This should have been my first sign to RUN.

Betty led me to her chair, sat me down, and affixed a drape around my neck. I fumbled for some words, and attempted to describe what I wanted. “I need to trim up the unruly parts of my long hair, enough to clean it up so I look professional for my law firm…consultation.” That’s specific enough, right? Betty ran her hands through my hair and said something to me that no woman has EVER said to me before.

“You shouldn’t get it cut,” she purred. “Your hair is so pretty.”

Note to my female readers: If you ever want to seduce me, that’s the way. Right there. Just like that.

I’m not sure exactly what transpired next, as thoughts lollipops and puppies and sunshine and hearts overwhelmed my mind. When I came back to reality, my enchantress had begun the hair cut. Everything seemed to be going well. She was using scissors, not those stinking death-shears, cutting at various angles, and using advanced haircutting terminology like “layering” and “comb.” She gave great small talk — baseball, traffic, weather. I felt good — even invigorated. Betty wouldn’t let me down. This would be a great haircut.

Time passed, further follicles fell to the floor, and finally Betty asked me to critique her work. I didn’t have my glasses on, and the chair was a fair distance from the mirror, but from all indications everything looked shipshape. I still had plenty of length, but the hair looked organized — as if I’d grown and shaped it that way on purpose. I was pleased. I gave sweet Betty a hug (in my mind) and a tip and bid Great Clips adieu. I got in my car and checked myself out in the rearview mirror. The hair was still wet, and it was at this point I noticed the sides looked just slightly uneven, and that the back was sticking out oddly on one side. But my hair was still wet, so I chalked it up to that, and figured everything would be fine when it dried.

I drove home.

I napped.

Time passed.

I woke up to the following:

“Holy crap, what happened to your hair?”

My wife hovered above me, her hand probing my scalp and shoving my head from side to side.

“What do you mean?” I said, still groggy but rapidly coming to consciousness.

“Go look in the mirror.”

I did, and I almost cried. This wasn’t just bed-head. The front of my hair was completely untouched, it was still long enough to put up my nose. How I didn’t notice this before, I have no idea. Hair hung over my left ear, but not over my right. The back was totally uneven and sticking out in twelve directions. My two cowlicks were cowlicking like never before. It was like a irradiated, deformed, mutant ferret had died on my head. I’d gone from best hair ever to worst hair ever in the course of an afternoon. Depression, anger, betrayal.

Betty! That coquette! I was just another trick to her.

As I collapsed to the floor in a lifeless heap, Elizabeth went into Captain Kirk mode. She got on her cell phone. “Hi, this is Elizabeth. I have a hair emergency. What can you do?” Within minutes we were in the car, on the road to Katrina, her personal hair salon. Upon arrival, Elizabeth marched over to a group of stylists, and conferred with them like a general with her soldiers. Periodically, they would all look over at me, gesturing wildly. This wasn’t some Mickey Mouse operation. This was the White House Situation Room, only with hairstylists and an overwhelming scent of lavender.

After the military session was over, a stylist grabbed me by the arm and threw me in a shampooing chair. She vigorously massaged my scalp, and threw a hot towel over my head. Soon I was in hurled into another chair. Elizabeth and the stylist starting throwing around terms I couldn’t possibly understand. Occipital Bone. Lines of Demarcation. Electron Orbitals. They were master surgeons, and I was their patient.

I don’t remember much of the actual cut. It was a whirlwind of snips and buzzes and squirts and puffs. But in the end, I can say my hair looks good again. Really good, actually, but any semblance of length is gone. Elizabeth and The Master Stylist saved my life, and I’m happy to say my lawfirm…consultation…went extremely well. In fact, I’m going back for another…consultation…on Tuesday.

Lessons learned?

1) Great Clips is, in fact, not great.

2) You get what you pay for.

3) Staggeringly beautiful blondes named Betty who call your hair “pretty” are all talk and no game.

Now, I begin the slow…agonizingly slow…process of regrowing my long locks. One day down, 210 to go.

STATISTICS:

Starting Balance: $23.40
Sit and Go $1 + $.20
45 Participants
I finished in 6th Place, blinds were 400/800/50
I WON $3.00!!!!! (7th Place Required)

ANALYSIS:

Oh, heck yes. That’s more like it, baby. I was short stacked nearly the entire game, but some sweet, sweet cards on three consecutive All-In’s propelled me to the final table. 1,500 chips to 15,000 chips. That’s right. I’m the man. Unfortunately, I got cocky, and a guy with 16,000 chips went All-In with pocket 6’s. I had A-K suited, and he’d gone All-In with garbage at least 10 times prior, so I called, and lost. I didn’t NEED to go All-In there, but it was a killer opportunity and while I kind of regret it, I did turn a profit and that’s what matters. WOOOOOOOOT! That was a morale booster I desperately needed.

Sidenote: Acquiring a net profit of a buck-eighty took just over 90 minutes. Well, it’s a start.

New (and beautiful) Current Balance: $25.20

STATISTICS:

Starting Balance: $24.60
Sit and Go $1 + $.20
45 Participants
I finished in 32nd Place, blinds were 15/30
No Winnings (7th Place Required)

ANALYSIS:

Not much to say on this one. I had two pair, twice, and both times I lost to a straight both times. What could I do?

By the way, I’ve decided to eliminate the “Percentage of Pots Won” sections of these updates, since they are only useful and interesting to me, and even then, not so much.

New Current Balance: $23.40

“Jason2002″ from Roanoke, VA writes:

Colonel! What’s up? I’m glad to see you are writing again although I think you are crazy to play poker the whole thing is just a scam. I listened to that podcast you are on and you were good but I wonder if you are going to bring back your show now that podcasting is easier. I’ve got an Ipod now it would be cool to take you on the road! Anyway keep doing your thing and I’ll talk to you.

j

Thanks Jason, for the kind words. The “comma” key is right next to the “M” on your keyboard. As for getting into podcasting, yes, I’m thinking about it (it’s been five years — FIVE YEARS! — since my last “Colonel T Show”) and when I make a decision you’ll be the first to hear about it. There are thousands of podcasts out there, and while I’ve only sampled a handful, I’ve pretty much nailed down what makes for a good one:

1) Multiple hosts
2) Minimal length (15 minutes, max, with some exceptions)
3) Prepared topics

Oh! And speak slowly, loudly, and clearly. My dad taught me that and it has served me well in life. Anyway, when I do get into podcasting (and hopefully that’ll be sooner rather than later) I’ll be following that numbered list quite carefully. I’m thinking Bob Costas would make an excellent co-host. If I can’t get him, then I don’t know what I’ll do.

But I’m sure I’ll think of something.

The Internet has made it impossible to have an original thought. Stupid bloggers.

Anything and everything I could possibly have to write about Episode III has already been written by some other nerd, and almost certainly more eloquently. But I’m persistent, and after many hours of meditation and margaritas, I’ve got one unique gem to put on display for you, one teensy weensy nugget of goodness no one has yet managed to dig up. Brace yourself.

Of what do I speak? A viable explanation for Obi-Wan’s statement in The Empire Strikes Back, that Luke was their last hope. Because, of course, we now know from Episode III that Obi-Wan knew about Leia the entire time, so why would Yoda be so cryptic with his “No, there is another”? (And for that matter, why didn’t he say “No, another there is”? Some other time, discuss that we will.)

Well, my friends, gather around and listen up. Prepare to have your minds blown away! Or not!

1) The “real world” reason is, of course, that George Lucas hadn’t decided to make Luke and Leia sisters when he wrote the story for Empire. Granted, that wouldn’t have been an issue had he added a couple extra lines in Sith but oh well. Back in 1980, the “other” was just some nebulous “other” entity created to add some suspense and mystery.

2) The second possible explanation, which I call the “cop out” reason, is that Obi-Wan just went a little nuts living alone on Tatooine for 20 years. That he forgot about Leia, or some such nonsense. I don’t care for that theory at all.

3) My theory is that Yoda wasn’t referring to Leia at all, but rather to whatever remnant of Anakin was still alive in Darth Vader. The prophecy said that Anakin will bring balance to the Force, which ultimately comes true. Anakin wipes out the Jedi, then (as Darth) kills the Emperor, destroying the Sith. So when Obi-Wan says “that boy was our last hope” and Yoda replies “No, there is another” Yoda is really saying that Anakin is the other hope! Instead of Luke killing the Emperor, Yoda’s new plan, which he concocts on the spot, is to somehow get Luke to convince Vader to turn back to the good side and have the reborn Anakin kill the Emperor. That plan, of course, works smashingly well as depicted in Return of the Jedi. That also answers the question of why in Return of the Jedi Obi-Wan and Yoda are so insistent that Luke confront Vader a second time. They need Luke to push Vader back to the good side so that Anakin, the last hope, can kill the Emperor.

But wait! What about this exchange in Return of the Jedi:

BEN: You cannot escape your destiny. You must face Darth Vader again.
LUKE: I can’t do it Ben.
BEN: Then the Emperor has already won. You were our only hope.
LUKE: Yoda spoke of another.
BEN: The other he spoke of is your twin sister.
LUKE: But I have no sister.

Well, it sure sounds like “the other” was meant to be Leia. In order for my theory to work, you have to split this dialogue into two completely separate conversations. Consider:

BEN: You cannot escape your destiny. You must face Darth Vader again.
LUKE: I can’t do it Ben.
BEN: Then the Emperor has already won. You were our only hope.
—– END CONVERSATION —–

—– NEW CONVERSATION BEGINS ——
LUKE: Yoda spoke of another. (Luke is recalling Yoda’s last words to him. This has nothing to do with “a new hope”, rather, it just refers to Yoda saying there was another Skywalker, and Luke is curious about that.)
BEN: The other he spoke of is your twin sister.
LUKE: But I have no sister.

And that’s that. Surely that’s what George intended, right? Hee.

Comment away. Debunk me!

STATISTICS

Starting Balance (Pre-Game) : $25.80
Sit and Go $1 + $.20
45 Participants
I finished in 23rd Place, blinds were 50/100
No Winnings (7th Place Required)

During current Hold’em session you were dealt 34 hands and saw flop:
- 2 out of 4 times while in big blind (50%)
- 3 out of 4 times while in small blind (75%)
- 5 out of 26 times in other positions (19%)
- a total of 10 out of 34 (29%)
Pots won at showdown – 1 of 4 (25%)
Pots won without showdown – 1

ANALYSIS

In today’s third game (yeah, I know I’m breaking my rule — more on that in a second), I got terrible cards, but what really killed me was a pitiful call to someone’s All-In (I had pocket queens and he had A-Q with an Ace showing on the flop). I wasn’t paying attention and just went for it.

I’ve yet to win anything on the Poker Odyssey, but like an ADDICT I keep trying. I need to step away, refocus, and come back to the tables in a couple days. If I absolutely MUST play, it’ll be at a free table.

Let’s see just how disciplined I am, shall we?

Current Balance: $24.60

STATISTICS

Starting Balance (Pre-Game): $33.80
Turbo No Limit $2 + 0 + 3 Rebuys
338 Participants
I finished in 75th Place, blinds were 3000/6000/300
No Winnings (64th place required)

During current Hold’em session you were dealt 51 hands and saw flop:
- 3 out of 6 times while in big blind (50%)
- 2 out of 6 times while in small blind (33%)
- 8 out of 39 times in other positions (20%)
- a total of 13 out of 51 (25%)
Pots won at showdown – 3 of 7 (42%)
Pots won without showdown – 3

ANALYSIS

I hate poker.

This was another one of those Turbo qualifiers, and again, it came down to me just barely not making the cut. I need to make sure I have about $10,000 going into the 1000/2000 blind to be safe; I probably need to play one or two more hands than I am.

Honestly, I should have been out long before 75th place. I was all in with a A-10 suited, against 8-8. He caught an 8 on the flop, so I needed runner Aces, Tens, or Hearts. I got a heart on the turn and a heart on the river, and that kept me alive.

I just couldn’t bring it home.

I hate poker, except that I love it.

Current Balance: $25.80