The Planet Earth website has a lot of cool content -- worth checking out, and I'm going to go ahead and recommend the DVD for purchase. Everyone should see this (even Oprah says so).
April 01, 2007
Experience Planet Earth
While high definition television may be a few years from prevalence, programs like the Discovery Channel's Planet Earth are creating a path. This new 11-part series (started last Sunday) maximizes HD potential with brilliant, phenomenal, eye-rubbing footage of life on this planet. Sigourney Weaver narrates hour-long episodes, each focusing on a different geographical habitat (Desert, Mountain, Ocean, etc). Your world, like you've never seen it before.
The Planet Earth website has a lot of cool content -- worth checking out, and I'm going to go ahead and recommend the DVD for purchase. Everyone should see this (even Oprah says so).
The Planet Earth website has a lot of cool content -- worth checking out, and I'm going to go ahead and recommend the DVD for purchase. Everyone should see this (even Oprah says so).
March 28, 2007
burn this whole city down
the decemberists live @ the tower theater -- upper darby, pa
with my brightest diamond -- tuesday, march 27th 8:00pm
Venue: Excellent
Seats: Excellent
Band: Excellent
Sound: Excellent
Good night. Check some great content on the decemberists' website, including two full tracks from the new album.
with my brightest diamond -- tuesday, march 27th 8:00pm
Venue: Excellent
Seats: Excellent
Band: Excellent
Sound: Excellent
Good night. Check some great content on the decemberists' website, including two full tracks from the new album.
March 04, 2007
The Eagle
He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
The Eagle
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
The Eagle
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
March 02, 2007
Waiting...
When stopped in traffic on the highway it seems endless, hopeless.
When cruising on open road the notion of a traffic jam never crosses my mind.
When cruising on open road the notion of a traffic jam never crosses my mind.
Activities
Breathing ... Sleeping ... Drinking ... Eating ... Sitting ... Standing ... Walking ... Running ... Talking ... Thinking ... Giving ... Taking ... Loving ... Hating ... Wishing ... Wondering ... Wanting ... Remembering ... Forgetting ... Dreaming ... Working ... Resting ... Changing ... Staying the Same ...
February 26, 2007
I've Been Out Walking
I've been out walking,
I don't do too much talking these days,
These days.
These days I seem to think a lot,
About the things that I forgot to do,
And all the times I had the chance to.
I stopped my rambling,
I don't do too much gambling these days,
These days.
These days I seem to think about,
How all the changes came about my way,
And I wonder if I'll see another highway.
And I had a lover,
I don't think I'll risk another these days,
These days.
And if I seem to be afraid,
To live the life that I have made in song,
Well it's just 'cause I've been losing so long.
Well I'll stop my dreaming,
I don't do too much scheming these days,
These days.
These days I'll sit on cornerstones,
And count the time in quartertones to ten,
Please don't confront me with my failures,
I had not forgotten them.
I've Been Out Walking,
Jackson Browne
I don't do too much talking these days,
These days.
These days I seem to think a lot,
About the things that I forgot to do,
And all the times I had the chance to.
I stopped my rambling,
I don't do too much gambling these days,
These days.
These days I seem to think about,
How all the changes came about my way,
And I wonder if I'll see another highway.
And I had a lover,
I don't think I'll risk another these days,
These days.
And if I seem to be afraid,
To live the life that I have made in song,
Well it's just 'cause I've been losing so long.
Well I'll stop my dreaming,
I don't do too much scheming these days,
These days.
These days I'll sit on cornerstones,
And count the time in quartertones to ten,
Please don't confront me with my failures,
I had not forgotten them.
I've Been Out Walking,
Jackson Browne
February 19, 2007
Why Bother?
I remember a space in the basement of the DeVries Science Building at Calvin where I liked to hang out between classes. Natural light filtered down through the atrium above from skylights four or five stories high. Much of the interior structure was exposed, revealing stairs and crosswalks overhead. At the base of a column, near the floor, someone had impressed a small epitaph into the surface which coated the concrete - "why bother?"
It was a question that I was oft to ponder in the DeVries basement, vaguely aware of the bustle and activity above. The burden of all my amassed perceptions and limited understanding was becoming too much to bear. I felt like I was thrashing around in the dark, groping and jabbing out of pure desperation, not finding anything to hold onto. I had essentially come to the conclusion that my world and the lense through which I viewed it were predicated on euphemisms, persistant denial, desperation, and all-out lies. The pillars upon which my universe was constructed were not slowly eroding; they were vaporized.
Imagine you are born into an all-compassing shell. Although it poses no threat, it is dense and restricts you to only the smallest range of motion. It does, however, nourish and keep you insulated. Of course, in order to accomplish this, all your potential for self-destruction must be suppressed.
There would be little cause for frustration if it weren't for the occasional streak of light, delivering the idea of an outside world. You become engaged by this concept, building knowledge. In a rush of enlightenment you burst free of the former confines and restrictions of the shell, annihalating its power over you. For a fleeting moment you are bathed in sunlight, free at last to explore untethered being.
Unfortunately, as you soon realize, the very bubble which nearly suffocated you also kept you afloat in a bottomless sea of nothingness. Celebration is rapidly replaced by panic, but there's nowhere to go and you don't know how to swim. Let the sinking begin.
P.S. - The "Big Steps" in the title of this blog refer to growth and changes in my way of thinking about the world, resulting in part from a liberal arts education. I took a few big steps and before I knew it the door had slammed shut behind me.
IF IGNORANCE IS BLISS, 'TIS FOLLY TO BE WISE.
Is ignorance bliss? Is the grass always greener? Have you ever met anyone who kept a New Year's resolution? [No.] Did they make (and break) one the year before? [Yes.] Is refusing to be sustained by an endless cycle of self-delusion a blessing or a curse?
It was a question that I was oft to ponder in the DeVries basement, vaguely aware of the bustle and activity above. The burden of all my amassed perceptions and limited understanding was becoming too much to bear. I felt like I was thrashing around in the dark, groping and jabbing out of pure desperation, not finding anything to hold onto. I had essentially come to the conclusion that my world and the lense through which I viewed it were predicated on euphemisms, persistant denial, desperation, and all-out lies. The pillars upon which my universe was constructed were not slowly eroding; they were vaporized.
Imagine you are born into an all-compassing shell. Although it poses no threat, it is dense and restricts you to only the smallest range of motion. It does, however, nourish and keep you insulated. Of course, in order to accomplish this, all your potential for self-destruction must be suppressed.
There would be little cause for frustration if it weren't for the occasional streak of light, delivering the idea of an outside world. You become engaged by this concept, building knowledge. In a rush of enlightenment you burst free of the former confines and restrictions of the shell, annihalating its power over you. For a fleeting moment you are bathed in sunlight, free at last to explore untethered being.
Unfortunately, as you soon realize, the very bubble which nearly suffocated you also kept you afloat in a bottomless sea of nothingness. Celebration is rapidly replaced by panic, but there's nowhere to go and you don't know how to swim. Let the sinking begin.
P.S. - The "Big Steps" in the title of this blog refer to growth and changes in my way of thinking about the world, resulting in part from a liberal arts education. I took a few big steps and before I knew it the door had slammed shut behind me.
IF IGNORANCE IS BLISS, 'TIS FOLLY TO BE WISE.
Is ignorance bliss? Is the grass always greener? Have you ever met anyone who kept a New Year's resolution? [No.] Did they make (and break) one the year before? [Yes.] Is refusing to be sustained by an endless cycle of self-delusion a blessing or a curse?
February 03, 2007
NYC Delivery
4:45PM - Parcels parking lot, Wilmington. "Hey, Pete, how about New York?"
4:52PM - Young Conaway, Brandywine Bldg. "The box is in the mailroom."
5:07PM - Wilmington Trainstation. "You're on Track 2." Ticket: $135
5:12PM - Onboard Amtrack Acela express train for New York City, carrying a single box.
7:03PM - Penn Station, NYC. Get into cab and out of rain, trying to keep box dry. Cab: $12
7:19PM - Cab drops me off at corner of 51st West and 6th avenue, three blocks from the hotel.
7:40PM - Michelangelo Hotel, 4th floor. Addressee signs for damp box. No tip.
8:02PM - Long wait for a cab outside the hotel, finally get one. Back to Penn Station, $7.
8:15PM - Purchase return ticket ($71) for next train (9:05PM).
9:08PM - Train is rolling, Wilmington bound.
11:00PM - Back at Parcels, get ride to parking lot and drive to Newark. Home by midnight.
4:52PM - Young Conaway, Brandywine Bldg. "The box is in the mailroom."
5:07PM - Wilmington Trainstation. "You're on Track 2." Ticket: $135
5:12PM - Onboard Amtrack Acela express train for New York City, carrying a single box.
7:03PM - Penn Station, NYC. Get into cab and out of rain, trying to keep box dry. Cab: $12
7:19PM - Cab drops me off at corner of 51st West and 6th avenue, three blocks from the hotel.
7:40PM - Michelangelo Hotel, 4th floor. Addressee signs for damp box. No tip.
8:02PM - Long wait for a cab outside the hotel, finally get one. Back to Penn Station, $7.
8:15PM - Purchase return ticket ($71) for next train (9:05PM).
9:08PM - Train is rolling, Wilmington bound.
11:00PM - Back at Parcels, get ride to parking lot and drive to Newark. Home by midnight.
February 01, 2007
Joe's Pond, Vermont
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
My first day working at MetroColor (Parcels' color printshop). I get in at noon, cut a few display boards and am dismissed by 4:00. To the parent's house to collect ski goggles, hats, gloves, etc. (it's going to be cold...more on that later). I forget my insulated winter boots, as well as neglect the neoprene face masks at the bottom of the ski bag. Back to Newark for packing and departure.
7:30PM, off to Phelps Lane to meet the group at the Jones house. Pete Jones is late in coming and we don't leave until 10. Stop in Upper Darby or Lower Contchy, or Baliwhowhatz Philadelphia to pick up the ubiquitous Jordan the Jew. Northwards!
5:45AM, January 26. Thursday morning, arrive at the cabin. The outside thermometer in the Jeep is reading -23 F, and I am impressed that it is calibrated to go that low. I am also wishing I had my insulated boots. The cabin is warm thanks to a previous arrival from the group, and despite being tired from the road the growing group opts to kick off the weekend by drinking into the morning. I sleep until after 5PM; the cycle begins afresh.
After dinner on Thursday we start a $10 buy in 11-handed Hold'em tournament. I feel like I am playing perfectly, and work my way into the final 5 with a decent stack - but the blinds are getting high. I have a little over 2000 chips and limp in for 100 under the gun with two Kings in the hole. The button called - I wanted him to raise - but Jordan cooperates nicely by raising to 300 from the small blind. To my delight the big blind decided to call. Now there was 800 chips in the pot, and I didn't get cute - I re-raised for all my chips. Jordan called quickly and showed me two sixes (a generally weak hand, and one that I am a 4.5:1 favorite to beat). I assure him that he's not dead yet just in time to watch a six peel off on the flop - hooray! I steam my way over to the fireplace wondering how much lift tickets at Stowe cost.
I discover Friday that the answer is $59 for a half-day pass. Tack on the $75 for two-day ski and boot rentals and the cost of additional cold weather gear and my fragile bankroll is looking pretty bleak. That 5000 chip pot last night might have enabled me to discount $60 from my travel expenses, oh well. Even during the daytime the thermometer at Stowe's summit was at 20 below zero, and I'm loving my new leggings ($35), facemask ($26), and glove liners ($18). Especially because the gondolas are not running due to extreme weather conditions. The high-speed quad ride to the top of the mountain takes a delightfully long time (big mountain), and provides amazing views of the surrounding peaks between shattering gusts of -45 degree chilly wind.
One positive aspect to skiing in such radical cold is that snow doesn't stick to clothes, which end up nice and dry. A downside (other than frostbite) is that any moisture freezes instantly. An ice scraper would have come in hands for my goggles, but despite difficult visibility the skiing was awesome. I stick to the "Vermont Blues" and am plently challenged by the intermediate slopes, but I feel good on the planks after a few years off (zero wipe-outs). Dan, Toma, Tyghe and myself get in four afternoon runs before the lifts close, Blaine bailed after one run, citing prohibitive cold. The whole group reconvenes in the lodge for a beer, capping an excellent half-day at Stowe.
The evening dinner tastes especially delicious on an empty skiing stomach, huge props to Pete Jones for the food preparations. Chicken parmesan for 18 people is no small order, and we finally ate around 8PM. I fared better in the after-dinner poker tournament on Friday, and eventually swung my way into the final two with Toma. We agreed to chop the prizes for 1st and 2nd after about a dozen hands of heads-up play. Profit: $40. Which happens to be exactly the price of a "student" lift ticket at Jay Peak, where we headed the next day...
Everyone gets up "early" on Saturday and we're out of the cabin by 10AM. The ski-rentals from yesterday are already loaded in the cars, and we head north to Jay Peak, which is near the Canadian border. I borrow Noah's University of Delaware ID and continue to make good use out of my new ski-mask at the outdoor ticket window. She never suspected a thing. The weather conditions are much more amenable today, and the skiiers in the group are more numerous today. We attack the mountain in small groups, opting for the quad lift over the long wait for the 60-person gondola ride to the summit. Five excelent runs breeze by and it's time for lunch. Bowl of chili: $5, Onion rings: $4, Bottled H20: $2, Cheeseburger: $4, Rolling Rock beer: $4. Overeating, overpaying, and loving it.
After lunch we get in line for the gondola, which gets packed to the gills with skiiers and their gear, nuts to butts. The ride to the top of the mountain is made more colorful as Jon "F-ing" Stull regales us (and everone else in the cab) with some bull words. I remember it being loud and inappropriate - derp! Incidentally, guess who snowboards. Any asinine chanting is quickly drowned out by the stark natural beauty at the peak of the mountain. The sidewinder trail that led us around the back of the moutain was amazing. Tyghe pointed out the "sundog" formed by sunlight refracting through tiny particles of frozen vapor in the air, an aparent rarity. The valley below us was completely blanketed in snow covered pines, untouched by the likes of trails and lifts and snowboarders from New York. It was an ethereal experience which I savored by skiing slowly...regretting that I had no camera. We get in a few more runs, including a rather tedious trek down "Bonzai Bonanza." For future reference, kiddies, stay away from trails with a surplus of the letter "z" in the name...
My first day working at MetroColor (Parcels' color printshop). I get in at noon, cut a few display boards and am dismissed by 4:00. To the parent's house to collect ski goggles, hats, gloves, etc. (it's going to be cold...more on that later). I forget my insulated winter boots, as well as neglect the neoprene face masks at the bottom of the ski bag. Back to Newark for packing and departure.
7:30PM, off to Phelps Lane to meet the group at the Jones house. Pete Jones is late in coming and we don't leave until 10. Stop in Upper Darby or Lower Contchy, or Baliwhowhatz Philadelphia to pick up the ubiquitous Jordan the Jew. Northwards!
5:45AM, January 26. Thursday morning, arrive at the cabin. The outside thermometer in the Jeep is reading -23 F, and I am impressed that it is calibrated to go that low. I am also wishing I had my insulated boots. The cabin is warm thanks to a previous arrival from the group, and despite being tired from the road the growing group opts to kick off the weekend by drinking into the morning. I sleep until after 5PM; the cycle begins afresh.
After dinner on Thursday we start a $10 buy in 11-handed Hold'em tournament. I feel like I am playing perfectly, and work my way into the final 5 with a decent stack - but the blinds are getting high. I have a little over 2000 chips and limp in for 100 under the gun with two Kings in the hole. The button called - I wanted him to raise - but Jordan cooperates nicely by raising to 300 from the small blind. To my delight the big blind decided to call. Now there was 800 chips in the pot, and I didn't get cute - I re-raised for all my chips. Jordan called quickly and showed me two sixes (a generally weak hand, and one that I am a 4.5:1 favorite to beat). I assure him that he's not dead yet just in time to watch a six peel off on the flop - hooray! I steam my way over to the fireplace wondering how much lift tickets at Stowe cost.I discover Friday that the answer is $59 for a half-day pass. Tack on the $75 for two-day ski and boot rentals and the cost of additional cold weather gear and my fragile bankroll is looking pretty bleak. That 5000 chip pot last night might have enabled me to discount $60 from my travel expenses, oh well. Even during the daytime the thermometer at Stowe's summit was at 20 below zero, and I'm loving my new leggings ($35), facemask ($26), and glove liners ($18). Especially because the gondolas are not running due to extreme weather conditions. The high-speed quad ride to the top of the mountain takes a delightfully long time (big mountain), and provides amazing views of the surrounding peaks between shattering gusts of -45 degree chilly wind.One positive aspect to skiing in such radical cold is that snow doesn't stick to clothes, which end up nice and dry. A downside (other than frostbite) is that any moisture freezes instantly. An ice scraper would have come in hands for my goggles, but despite difficult visibility the skiing was awesome. I stick to the "Vermont Blues" and am plently challenged by the intermediate slopes, but I feel good on the planks after a few years off (zero wipe-outs). Dan, Toma, Tyghe and myself get in four afternoon runs before the lifts close, Blaine bailed after one run, citing prohibitive cold. The whole group reconvenes in the lodge for a beer, capping an excellent half-day at Stowe.
The evening dinner tastes especially delicious on an empty skiing stomach, huge props to Pete Jones for the food preparations. Chicken parmesan for 18 people is no small order, and we finally ate around 8PM. I fared better in the after-dinner poker tournament on Friday, and eventually swung my way into the final two with Toma. We agreed to chop the prizes for 1st and 2nd after about a dozen hands of heads-up play. Profit: $40. Which happens to be exactly the price of a "student" lift ticket at Jay Peak, where we headed the next day...
Everyone gets up "early" on Saturday and we're out of the cabin by 10AM. The ski-rentals from yesterday are already loaded in the cars, and we head north to Jay Peak, which is near the Canadian border. I borrow Noah's University of Delaware ID and continue to make good use out of my new ski-mask at the outdoor ticket window. She never suspected a thing. The weather conditions are much more amenable today, and the skiiers in the group are more numerous today. We attack the mountain in small groups, opting for the quad lift over the long wait for the 60-person gondola ride to the summit. Five excelent runs breeze by and it's time for lunch. Bowl of chili: $5, Onion rings: $4, Bottled H20: $2, Cheeseburger: $4, Rolling Rock beer: $4. Overeating, overpaying, and loving it.
After lunch we get in line for the gondola, which gets packed to the gills with skiiers and their gear, nuts to butts. The ride to the top of the mountain is made more colorful as Jon "F-ing" Stull regales us (and everone else in the cab) with some bull words. I remember it being loud and inappropriate - derp! Incidentally, guess who snowboards. Any asinine chanting is quickly drowned out by the stark natural beauty at the peak of the mountain. The sidewinder trail that led us around the back of the moutain was amazing. Tyghe pointed out the "sundog" formed by sunlight refracting through tiny particles of frozen vapor in the air, an aparent rarity. The valley below us was completely blanketed in snow covered pines, untouched by the likes of trails and lifts and snowboarders from New York. It was an ethereal experience which I savored by skiing slowly...regretting that I had no camera. We get in a few more runs, including a rather tedious trek down "Bonzai Bonanza." For future reference, kiddies, stay away from trails with a surplus of the letter "z" in the name...
January 08, 2007
Poker?
Old habits die hard. The irony, of course, is that my new job is the primary source of temptation to resume my old ways. Poker, poker, poker.Working at Parcels with a bunch of degenerates definitely contributed to my relapse into the desolate world of fear and loathing that is poker.
Loving every minute of it.
I have (AK) and raise to $4 on the button behind one limper in a toughish 4-handed game. BB Bossman reraises to $10, limper and I both call ($31 pot). Flop is KcJcXc (I do not have the Ac). It checks to me and I bet $10. BB check-raises to $20 (?). Limper folds, I grimace and call ($71 pot). Turn is non-club 10. Bossman now checks again (?!?). He could have flopped the nut flush (AcQc, etc.) and is slowplaying, but I read a lot of tentativeness in the small check-raise and subsequent check on 4th street. I put him on a medium strength hand, possibly a dry Ace of clubs. If my hand was good on the flop it should still be good.
What type of hand would he re-raise with from the BB, then play this way after the flop? He could have QQc, AcKx, or AAc. These are the hands I'm most worried about (even though I have the QQ beat and the AK tied, both hands can easily beat me on the river).
The small check-raise and following check make me think he's trying for a free card with the nut flush draw. I move all-in for my last $35 (NO FREE CARDS!). He balks for a second, but calls in a way the tells me I'm beat. He shows (JJ) and I'm dead to a Queen. At least I had outs.
I love moving into big pots with a marginal hand that could easily be drawing dead (almost as much as I love losing). Poker situations like that make me all warm and fuzzy. Of course, if I moved him off his hand or got paid off by a missed draw the play would have seemed pretty strong. Hell, I would have even settled for a little old Q on the river.
Lesson: pushing marginal hands which are either a slight favorite or a huge underdog will get you into trouble at No Limit Hold'em.
Alternative lesson: always fold AK. Always.
P.S. - A previous encounter in the same game:
I have (AK) and raise to $4 from late position in loose 6-handed game, multiple callers. Flop KK2, SB opens by shoving all-in. I Call. (22) wins the pot.
It's been over a year since my last post on Wealthy Street Poker. If I start winning money I'll have to reopen the annals. At this point I'm about even since I started working at Parcels (but I'm stuck for $130 in the office game, which is unacceptable). More to come.
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