On my iPod, Meat Loaf is filed under Meat Loaf and not Loaf, Meat. I just thought I’d point that out, since it’s rather anomalous (or not). Riding back from Pupville, we were listening to something godawful emerging out of Connecticut, so I went into the by-song listing and selected “Paradise by the Dashboard Light.” Lo and behold, after praying for the end of time, the pod went on to the next song which was—you guessed it—“Prairie Dog City” (misnamed “Paradise City,” but you and I and now some sadder but wiser Sailors know the truth). This primed me for more Meat Loaf, and there you are.
It’s all connected.
Regis Saturday looks tough from a tab perspective. The divisions are small, dominated by a couple of schools. This means that the judging by those schools, however generously provided, doesn’t go very far. We’re going to be using the people who can judge to death. If you want to help out, just show up. We’ll give you rounds and pay you handsomely. What else could you possibly want to do on a nice Saturday in New York City in autumn?
Don’t answer that.
In other developments, Bump is being registered for at the usual pace, and the software seems to be working for almost everybody (there’s always a fish or two who can’t find the spawning grounds and need an elevator up the falls). It took me a while today to find where to put the number of judges available for hire—which was already there but I wanted to add to it—but find it I did, and we’re in pretty good shape. The key is to have the magic number of 48 total to single-flight doubles. Given the dozen or so alums who have signed up, we should make it well. Hiring 25% of your pool is pretty stiff, but if you don’t, problems can ensue. Since I tell everyone else to hire till it hurts, why should I be any different?
Tonight’s meeting will end at 8:30. I never miss the Superbowl, and if that’s not what tonight’s 9:00 DST event is, then you just don’t understand the sport of politics. The only thing missing will be the Budweiser ads (although I hear Cindy had been pushing for them).
On the poker front (there’s a poker front in this blog? you ask, to which I answer, of course, you yabbo, as man does not live by blather alone), we’re chowing down at Ibiza Saturday night, and one of my dinner partners turns out to be a serious poker player. Simply put, his average small blind for one hand is the amount of money I bring with me for an entire night. I can’t wait to challenge this guy some day. I told him everything he needs to know about my game, which is that I never bluff, so we should be on an even playing field. The only difference is that in my normal game I hang out with cheapskates. We had a Pup with us, and he ventured that he plays in a one-dollar/two-dollar game, which is still more than I play for, which makes my skates look even cheaper. I’ll be seeing them tomorrow (the skates, that is), so I’ll let them know what pikers they are. They’ll be glad to hear it. None of them ever bluff either. It makes the game so much easier to understand; I’m surprised the pros haven’t figured that out yet.
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