"You shouldn't have bet that"

Aria tonight. I raised to $12 from early position with K-Q offsuit, got four callers. Flop came 9-10-J rainbow. How perfect is that?

I bet $25. Sadly, all three opponents folded in turn. I showed my hand while effecting an obviously fake pout about not having been called. (I think it's truly disgusting when people genuinely whine and complain that the pot they just won was too small, so I wanted it to be clear that my little tantrum was purely in jest.)

Three players simultaneously said variations on the title to this post: I should have slow-played it. I should have given them a free card so that one of them could catch up. I should have let them do the betting for me.

I didn't respond. I almost never discuss at the table how a hand was played; I think it's a terrible idea nearly all the time. I have no interest in giving other players new and different (and maybe better) ideas about how to play. Why would I?

I understand the impulse to play possum and pretend like you missed the flop when you actually have the nuts. And there are times when it's clearly the right thing to do. But I think that should not be the default play in that spot. Let's see how many reasons I can list for why a lead-out bet is defensible, and arguably even the best play.

1. I have a big hand, so I want a big pot. The most reliable way to build a big pot is to put money into it at every opportunity, hoping that somebody with a second-best hand will do the same.

2. If it checks around and fourth street is a queen or an 8, it vastly increases the chance that I will have to split the pot with somebody else, and/or that it will kill any shot at being called by somebody who flopped top pair or even two pair, because the straight will be both more obvious and more likely for somebody to be holding.

3. Waiting for the turn to bet means that I'll now have a flush draw on the board about 3/4 of the time. My decisions will then become increasingly complicated.

4. In just a short session, this was already the third time I had raised pre-flop and followed it up with a continuation bet, because I had gotten lucky and hit top pair or better each time. This meant that any players paying attention might think, "He can't have it every time," and decide to draw a line in the sand, calling or even raising with something like top pair, thinking that I most likely whiffed.

5. I know perfectly well that most recreational $1-3 NLHE players can't resist slow-playing monsters like this. Players tend to assume that others think and play the same way they do, which means that the nuts is pretty much the last hand they will think I have when I lead out looking so strong. They will put me on top pair, an overpair, a straight draw, or a pure bluff. Put another way, this is a situation in which I'm being tricky by being straightforward. If I'm lucky enough that one of them flopped two pair or a set, we play for stacks with the odds greatly in my favor, because they will not believe that I have them crushed.

6. Metagame considerations: The typical player in these games will tend to check both his complete misses and his strongest hands, which means that he's leading out betting with a fairly narrow range--mostly one-pair hands. I want to give the impression to anybody paying attention that they cannot reliably put me on a range of hands based on whether or not I c-bet, i.e., that I don't follow the pattern they have come to expect from other players. This is also the primary reason that I showed it after winning the pot (which I only rarely do). Showing a lead-out bet with the nuts means that a continuation bet with air later in the session is more likely to succeed, because opponents will remember that they can't exclude the strongest hands from my range based on the fact that I'm betting.

7. Because several of them will believe that slow-playing is clearly the superior play, they may conclude that this was a beginner's mistake and that I'm less experienced than I actually am. They may decide that I'm straightforward and not tricky, that I bet when I have a good hand and check when I don't. I hope to exploit, dash, and confound all of those expectations later in the session.

8. If I give a free card that pairs the board or puts a flush draw out there that comes in on the river, and I end up losing a big pot to some awful runner-runner combo, I'm going to kick myself down the nearest staircase for misplaying it, and I can't afford the resulting hospital bill.

9. One of Mike Caro's most frequent admonitions is to do the obvious thing. For example, here's a bit from Caro's Most Profitable Hold'em Advice, pages 119-120:

The simplest choice of strategy is usually the best. Exceptions are exceptions for a reason....

The reason I'm telling you this is, once you become skilled at hold'em, it's easy to justify doing the unusual. But the most obvious decision is usually correct. You should make occasional exceptions to keep observant opponents off-guard and to earn extra profit.

But, if you stray too often from what are the simplest and most obvious decisions, you're sure to sacrifice profit.

Of course, as this particular hand played out, it's likely that I could have made more money by checking. Had I known their exact cards--say, that I was up against a pair of deuces, a pair of threes, and a pair of fours--then I might have come to a different conclusion. Letting one of them catch a set on the turn would be about the only way to swell the pot under such circumstances.

But given the range of hands that people usually play against a raiser, and the fact that I had three opponents, there was an excellent chance that that flop hit one of them hard enough that he or she could justify a call or raise. The fact that it wasn't true this time does not dissuade me from the view that a continuation bet was the best move, all things considered.

I'll never live it down

You ever do something on an impulse that seems just silly and goofy and fun, and then about five seconds later think, "That's probably going to turn out to have been a really bad idea"?

(Photo credit--if you can call it that-- goes to PokerLawyer.)

Fitzgerald's poker room closed

See: http://www.lasvegasvegas.com/content/fitzgeralds-closes-poker-room-1326502328

Doesn't bother me. It was a pretty worthless poker room. It's closer walking distance to my apartment than even Binion's and Golden Nugget, but I played there just seven times in 5 1/2 years. I stopped in more than twice that many times, but usually found no game going. On the rare occasions that I found a game, it wasn't very good, tended to be short-handed, and tended to break up within a couple of hours.

Poker gems, #446

Bill Rini, in his blog:

How many times have you heard someone complain that they want to move up in limits where people respect their raises? Well, if you can’t beat the total fish you don’t understand the game well enough to beat people who do respect raises.

Poker is a game of adjusting to your opponent. If you’re playing against a guy who has never met two cards that he wouldn’t see a flop with or will call a big river bet just to see whether you’re bluffing, and you don’t adjust your game to exploit that, you really aren’t a very good poker player to begin with.

You can bluff into this guy all night long and complain about how everyone on 2+2 agrees with your line or pull out PokerStove and empirically demonstrate that you made the mathematically correct move, but you’re still going to end up losing pots to this guy. Not because he’s a better player than you, but because you’re employing an ineffective strategy against that type of opponent.

Google maps now includes some casino floorplans

See:

http://bit.ly/yGuUWi

How not to play kings

Stratosphere last night. After a bad start, I had clawed my way back to a little on the plus side, sitting at about $220, when I found pocket kings on the button. Four people limped, then the guy on my immediate right raised to $15. He was absolutely the tightest player at the table, and this was the first time I had seen him be the pre-flop raiser, so naturally I had to be somewhat worried that he had pocket aces. On the other hand, this raise was larger than the table average (which was $8-$10), suggesting something more like jacks or queens.

Given his table image and the raise size, I thought that I would probably be his only opponent going to the flop, even without putting in a reraise. I would normally three-bet with kings, but I had not three-bet even once so far in this session (no premium hands), which meant that doing so now would essentially be playing with my cards face up. I decided to smooth-call instead, for dual purposes: It would disguise my strength and it would allow me to see if an ace flopped and re-assess Mr. Tight's demeanor before committing a lot of chips against a player for whom aces were a large part of his range. I think that reraising will win me about $20 most of the time, and lose me the amount of the raise when he has aces, though probably not my whole stack, because this is a player against whom I could fold kings if he four-bets it.

I was horrified to see the big blind call, followed by three of the limpers, meaning that six of us were seeing a flop with the pot already swollen to about $90. To use the technical term, this situation kind of sucked.

Flop was 9-6-2 rainbow, about as dry and unfrightening as they can come. I was not worried that Mr. Tight had hit a set, though I still had to be concerned that his pocket pair was one pip bigger than mine. Everybody checked to him, and he bet $35. I considered raising, but I was still in the dark about where I stood. I decided to be cautious and see if one of the players in earlier position was preparing a check-raise. I called.

Three of them folded, but I hated seeing who did not--it was the trappiest player at the table. As a general rule, the bigger the pot, the more you want to take it down immediately rather than trying to make it even larger and risk losing everything. I think that few players who had flopped a set in this situation would do anything other than either lead-out bet or check-raise. One of the few who would be daring enough to check-call here as a trap--from out of position, against two solid opponents--was this guy. Two pair was unlikely, as I didn't think any hand that could have flopped two pair would have put in $15 pre, and there were essentially no draws, so Mr. Trappy either had a set or one pair. If one pair, it was most likely top pair with A-9 suited, possibly pocket 8s or 7s or maybe even 10s.

Fourth street was a four and a second club. Mr. Trappy checked, which didn't tell me anything. Mr. Tight also checked. This didn't tell me much, either. Certainly with A-K he might have taken one shot at the pot on the flop and then shut down. But he could easily do the same with A-A or any other big pair. My table image was solid. I had never shown down a weak hand, and had hit two flopped sets and one flopped boat on my way back to even, all of which did get shown. Mr. Tight might therefore very reasonably fear that I was the one slow-playing a monster and check even aces.

I definitely needed to bet here, both for value and for information, but I didn't think it needed to be large. I settled on $50. Mr. Trappy pondered a long time, but finally mucked, which relieved most of my concern about this hand. Now it all came down to whether Mr. Tight had aces or one of his few other possible holdings. He thought a while and then called. Again, this didn't sort out the situation much for me, except to rule out A-K. I was either one rank behind or between one and three ranks ahead (or, as an outside possibility, tied, with him holding the other two kings). His range was now almost certainly down to one of the top five pocket pairs, and I was beating three of them.

River came an offsuit queen. I mentally winced a bit, because of the obvious possibility that Mr. Tight had just gone from loser to winner. He checked, with noticeably more hesitation than he had exhibited on the turn, which further fueled my anxiety. Now to me--check or bet? I decided that there were still twice as many hands with which he might well pay off a smallish value bet (namely, jacks and tens) as there were hand with which he would call and win (just aces), so I pushed out another stack of $50. He mucked within a few seconds. I still can't say with any confidence which pair he was throwing away. It easily could have been aces, though my best guess is jacks, with tens close behind in likelihood.

The net result? I profited about $195 with pocket kings, without improving, without showing my hand, against five opponents. I find that rather remarkable. It was, of course, extremely lucky, and the whole thing could have gone horribly wrong in about a million different ways. But none of the land mines exploded where they might have, and I lived to tell the tale.

Poker gems, #445

Scott Huff and Joe Stapleton, in Bluff magazine, December, 2011, page 88, commenting on various professional poker players' decisions about where to relocate outside of the United States in order to be able to continue playing online.

Aguiar, Deeb, others -----> Mexico.

Uhhh, is it just me, or does this sound like an accident waiting to happen? In Mexico, you can get kidnapped and ransomed if you're suspected of having an abundance of unused Tower Records gift cards.

What the heck is going to happen when a country that has a pretty disproportionate gun/job ratio finds out a bunch of Vitamin D-deficient supernerds who keep massive amounts of cash on them--and who have the ability to transfer large sums of money electronically--live in that ridiculously lavish high-rise over there? You know, the only building you can see no matter where you're standing in the barrio?

Poker gems, #444

Jennifer Tilly, in Bluff magazine, December, 2011, page 76.

Sometimes I wonder if I am a compulsive gambler, and then I realize I am not. If I am losing, I quit because I hate losing. If I'm winning, I quit. I like to quit while I'm ahead.

Phil [Laak] is the exact opposite. If he is down, he refuses to get up from a table until he is unstuck. Conversely, if he is winning, he won't get up either because he is on a roll. According to Phil, there is NEVER a good reason to get up from the table.

Your not going believe this one

Did you notice a couple of problems with that headline? Of course you did. Unless, that is, you happen to be one of the people in charge of writing and proofreading headlines for Bluff magazine. To them, it would have looked perfect.

How do I know? I have evidence. The following is what one finds on page 72 of the December, 2011, issue:

Notice the subhead: "IF YOUR GOING TAKE MONEY, IT MAY AS WELL BE FROM THESE GUYS."

This will sound snarky, but I mean it entirely literally: How do you get a job writing and/or copy editing for a magazine if you don't know the difference between "your" and "you're"? Isn't there some sort of test for 6th-grade-level English competence that one has to pass before getting hired on?

Another question that will sound rhetorical, but which I ask in earnest: How many people were involved in the production of this page without any of them noticing the homophone problem and the missing word? Five? Ten? And what is wrong with all of these people? (OK, that one was just rhetorical.)

TV theme songs (no poker content)

Last night, out of nowhere, my friend Grange95 said via Twitter, "Hawaii Five-O is still greatest TV theme song *ever*." I countered with a few other possibilities, which he politely acknowledged as good, but not as good. He then suggested that we each prepare a list of our top 25 TV show theme songs and publish them on our blogs simultaneously.

I initially thought that 25 was too many and 10 was more manageable. He agreed to the lower number. But as soon as I started actually compiling my list, I realized I had made a terrible mistake. I just couldn't narrow it down that far. Grange graciously agreed to bump it back to 25 so that I wouldn't go insane endlessly second-guessing my choices.

Still, it wasn't easy. I started with a list of 40, which I assembled after consulting various online lists of the best theme songs, such as these:

http://www.rollingstone.com/music/photos/readers-poll-the-best-television-theme-songs-20110921

http://www.pastemagazine.com/blogs/lists/2008/11/the-20-best-tv-theme-songs-of-all-time.html

http://www.ranker.com/crowdranked-list/the-best-tv-theme-songs-of-all-time

http://www.artifacting.com/blog/2010/03/24/100-greatest-tv-themes/

http://music.ign.com/articles/704/704547p1.html

http://www.amazon.com/All-Time-Top-100-TV-Themes/dp/B000XUGDDA/ref=tmm_msc_title_0

So, to the inevitable question that will come up in the comments, "What about _________? Did you think about THAT?" The answer is almost certainly yes.

I was surprised that the "Cheers" theme song ended up at the top of most of the lists. I've never cared much for that one. Which just goes to show how completely subjective and personal such lists will inevitably be. (Sneak preview: No "Cheers" below.)

I approached Grange's challenge by first asking myself what makes a TV show's theme song great? I decided that it must (1) stand on its own as a piece of music, (2) make you want to watch the show that its attached to, (3) set or suggest the mood of the show, (4) be so distinctive that the viewer quickly forms a Pavlovian mental connection between the theme and the show, such that any other possible music becomes unthinkable.

I decided that those goals are more difficult to achieve if the music is instrumental, foregoing lyrics, so I awarded bonus points to that category and (rather artificially, I'll admit) made my instrumentals list into the top ten and the best ones with lyrics my second ten. (Throughout this post, I am ignoring any distinction in terminology between "theme song" and "theme music.") I then added in five more that, while not necessarily great by the criteria I established for myself, have something about them that compels inclusion in a "best of" list.

I tried to include clips of the original opening credits, but in many cases they are not available due to copyright issues, so some of the embedded clips below are of poor quality, or are some version other than what was with the show originally (e.g., a fan mashup).

So without further ado....

INSTRUMENTALS

1. "Hawaii Five-0." Yes, in the end, after a couple of re-listens, I had to concede that Grange was right all along, dammit.

2. "Star Trek: The Next Generation." The theme of the original show was pretty good, but they managed to make it ten times better and more beautiful for the show's second iteration.

3. "Peter Gunn." Even if you've never seen the show (I haven't), you'll almost certainly recognize the music, from the great Henry Mancini.

4. "Mission: Impossible."




5. "Twin Peaks."




6. "Merrie Melodies"/"Looney Tunes."




7. "Dr. Who."




8. "The Twilight Zone."




9. "The Andy Griffith Show."




10. "The Waltons."





WITH LYRICS

11. "The Sopranos." The most perfect mating ever of a pre-existing song to a new show--so perfect that most fans assume the song was written specifically for the show.




12. "The Mary Tyler Moore Show."




13."M*A*S*H." Yes, I know that it didn't have lyrics as used in the show, but everybody knew what the lyrics were, and that's important here; if the music doesn't call to mind "suicide is painless," then it doesn't really work well.




14. "Greatest American Hero." Maybe the best "feel-good" TV theme song.




15. "Ally McBeal."




16. "Rawhide."




17. "The Beverly Hillbillies." Earl Scruggs and the Foggy Mountain Boys? A shoo-in. Of all the ones in my list, this is the one that is most likely to become an earworm for me on any given day. Often just the mention of any its key words (oil, millionaire, swimming pools, movie stars) is enough to set it off. That's not so much because I love the song, but just because of how deeply it has managed to get ingrained in my engrams.




18. "The Monkees."




19. "The Addams Family." Though it deserves inclusion for its general charm and catchiness, this one could almost make the list just for the cheekiness of rhyming "scree-um" with "museum."




20. "Friends."





SPECIAL MERIT


21. "The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson." For being so iconically, inextricably linked with one man, one genre, one time slot.




22. "Jeopardy." For having become the musical embodiment of a social message in just about any context, "Time is running out."




23. "The Muppet Show." For maximal playfulness and inventiveness in always finding new twists on the theme.




24. "The Big Bang Theory." For the cleverest lyrics ever penned for a TV theme song. Seriously, incorporating Australopithicus, Pangaea, and "the autotrophs began to drool"? Genius!




25. "Gilligan's Island." For becoming the best-known TV theme show song of all time. Really—just stop anybody on the street and ask. EVERYBODY can sing along.

For the sake of completeness, here is my list of the ones that were in serious contention but didn't quite make the final cut to 25 (in no particular order):

Bonanza: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mjdRgBAY278

The Munsters: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0drJKnYg5-s

Hill Street Blues: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yevI8xCAKuc

Sanford and Son: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1WqazleR3FE

The Rockford Files: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d41cAOmcuxk

The Dukes of Hazzard: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oU6mPYFtF8E

All in the Family: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=znrjbo9QRLk

Dallas: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Md2YoqPlEtU

Barney Miller: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ox-DmJ9H3ng

SWAT: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YAHvsCb-6vU

Taxi: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kzhwx8aOO0A

Lost in Space: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YH6j63lhAAc

Mr. Ed: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y_PZPpWTRTU

The X-Files: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JDZBgHBHQT8

As a final bonus, I give you the most famous TV show theme song that actually has lyrics, though you probably thought it didn't: "The Dick Van Dyke Show":

Grange and I agreed to set the posts containing our lists to publish simultaneously, at 8:00 p.m. my time, so neither of us has seen the other's yet. You can presumably see his list here, now that the hour has arrived. The question for you, dear reader, is this: Who made the more definitive list of the top 25?

Addendum

Grange's list is here. We had only 9/25 in common. Judging these in order of their summed ranks (lowest being best), they are:

Hawaii 5-0

Mission: Impossible

Star Trek: The Next Generation

MASH

Beverly Hillbillies

Gilligan's Island

Rawhide

Addams Family

Muppet Show

The only one on his list that I had not considered is "It's a Jungle Out There," by Randy Newman, from "Monk." I love that song and that show, and I agree with him that the song serves the show perfectly. I would have included it if I had thought of it. I'm amazed that it didn't appear on any of the lists I checked (unless I just missed it).

Judging by a Twitter exchange, he admits to about the same embarrassment for including "Cheers" as I do for including "Friends"--it's a surrender to sappiness on both sides.

Oops--another milestone slipped by

Sometime recently I did my 4000th post, and didn't even notice it. This is #4015.

It's hard to sound excited about it now, since it went by like a thief in the night. But I thought I'd mention it, for the sake of completeness.

I used to think every 100th post was worth noting; now 1000 go by and it doesn't even register. Life changes.

Separated at birth?

That's Andrew "Lucky Chewy" Lichtenberger, professional poker player, top, and John Cochran, from the recent season of "Survivor," bottom.

Twins, obv.

Excellent idea of the year (so far)

A Twitter message that somebody retweeted my way last night:

Two mixer hands

Mrs. Lederer suggested that I should join her for the Imperial Palace Sunday night mixed game last night. I hadn't seen her yet on this trip to Vegas, so I agreed.

One remarkable hand was making the nuts in badugi. The goal is to get one card of each suit, and have them be as low as possible. I started with A-3-4 in three different suits, plus one useless card. I needed a low spade to make a strong hand. I invoked my new-found powers of card-calling, focusing specifically on the deuce of spades. I slid my dud card to the dealer, and he gave me in return...the deuce of spades! It's the first time I've ever made the best possible hand in this game.

The other remarkable hand was in ace-to-five triple draw. I started with four clubs, traded in my mismatch, did my mental voodoo to get myself the ace of clubs, and bingo!

That all by itself wouldn't be so remarkable, but Mrs. L. ended up drawing the king-high club flush. Between us, our ten cards consisted of ten of the 13 clubs in the deck:

I don't even know how to go about calculating the odds of that happening, but they must be pretty long. I'm amazed that she somehow knew not to raise on the last street (when she finally made her hand), and lost only one more bet there.

The only other even remotely interesting thing that happened was that when she went up to her room to get a sweatshirt (it was cold in the poker room), I swiped three stacks of $1 chips from her and hid them in my lap. I wanted to see how long it would take her to notice. The problem was that she took her sweet time about getting back, making some other stops along the way, so I ended up with about 15 minutes of paranoia that the surveillance people had seen me do that and security would be showing up any second to confront me about my theft. Fortunately, that didn't happen. And it only took her about five seconds to notice that she had been looted, so I didn't even get much fun out of my juvenile little prank.

Apes as poker players

Everybody has heard of dogs playing poker, but apes? Apparently they have some characteristics that would be useful to the game, according to two news stories of recent research that I saw today.

In the first, scientists found that all four species of the great apes are capable of making sophisticated risk/reward decisions. When presented with a choice between a small piece of banana with a known location or taking a chance on lifting one of several cups in the hope of finding a larger piece, the apes make their decisions based on the probability of success and the discrepancy between the size of the small and large piece. The larger the hidden piece, the more risk they are willing to take to find it. Sounds like calculating pot odds to me.

In the second, researchers found that chimps in the wild take into account whether the other chimps already know about a danger before deciding whether to sound a vocal alarm. Awareness of other players' states of knowledge is a critical poker skill. Was that guy here when I bluffed in this situation 30 minutes ago? If so, was he paying attention, and will he recognize that this hand is very much like that one? It seems that chimps have at least the rudimentary ability to process this kind of information.

In both of these traits, I'd have to say that they exceed the capacity of at least some human poker player, who display zero ability to perform such complex tasks.

Abraham Lincoln on gamblers

A political blog post I was reading today (here, in case anyone is interested) quoted something by Honest Abe about gamblers. It interested me enough to track down the original, which, thanks to Google, is almost ridiculously easy these days.

It comes from his speech to the Young Men's Lyceum of Springfield, Illinois, January 27, 1838, which can be found here. Lincoln is warning of the dangers of the increasing arbitrariness of mob violence in retribution for alleged crimes.

In the Mississippi case they first commenced by hanging the regular gamblers — a set of men certainly not following for a livelihood a very useful or very honest occupation, but one which, so far from being forbidden by the laws, was actually licensed by an act of the Legislature passed but a single year before.... Abstractly considered, the hanging of the gamblers at Vicksburg was of but little consequence. They constitute a portion of population that is worse than useless in any community; and their death...is never matter of reasonable regret with any one. If they were annually swept from the stage of existence by the plague or smallpox, honest men would perhaps be much profited by the operation.

Gee, thanks, Abe! Appreciate the compliment! Care to know what I think of members of your professions, i.e., lawyers and politicians?

Josie plays the 2-4

More evidence that the 2-4 is the most powerful hand in poker, this time from Very Josie: http://veryjosie.blogspot.com/2011/12/foxwoods-122311.html

Attention, poker dealers

I just stumbled upon a new (at least I think it's new) show on the Discovery channel. It's called "Best in the Business." They design competitions specific to the skills of any given profession or occupation. So far I've seen their segments on excavator operators, grocery baggers, oyster shuckers, and blacksmiths. The program is hosted by Ben Bailey, best known as the driver-questioner on "Cash Cab."

It seems obvious to me that they could put together a competition for poker dealers. Some sort of crazy card-pitching contest. Fastest to accurately count a table full of poker chips. That kind of thing.

You can find instructions for submitting a demo video here:

http://dsc.discovery.com/tv/best-in-the-business/casting-call.html

I'm sure if they get enough submissions from poker dealers with interesting personalities and flashy skills, they'll consider putting together a segment showcasing the best.

The Force is strong with this one

Imperial Palace tonight.

As the guy across the table reluctantly called the four-bet all-in from the rock who he knew probably had aces or kings, he muttered, "This is the most overrated hand in poker." I was in Seat 1 next to the dealer, and said, "Sounds like ace-king to me." Dealer said, "Yep." And it was as we all thought: His A-K to her K-K, neither improving.

My very next hand I had 7-2 offsuit, and was about to flash it to the dealer and say, "No, THIS is the most overrated hand in poker." But right then he was busy telling somebody something, so the moment passed. I still wanted to do it, however, so I began summoning up my willpower to make myself get another 7-2 offsuit on the next hand. I concentrated. I focused my third eye. I channeled my chi through my shakras. I beamed my Kirlian aura at the electrical energy surging through the auto-shuffler to direct its activities. I remembered "The Secret" and let only positive 7-2 thoughts flow through me. I prayed to fourteen different major religions' dieties. I sent my spirit animal (it's a porcupine) on a vision quest to fetch me a 7-2. I called on the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future. I scribbled 7-2 on a piece of paper, quickly burned it, and scattered its ashes to the four winds. I gotta tell you, all this woo-woo stuff is hard work!

Drumroll, please. The hand ended, the dealer pulled the next deck out of the shuffler, I got my two cards, checked them, and there it was. I had done it. I had successfully willed myself a second consecutive 7-2 offsuit. And there was with the angels a multitude of the heavenly host praising the poker gods.

As the cards I had called into my possession headed to the muck, I flashed them to the dealer and delivered my line. It was a dud. Seat 10 had already called, so I had to be sure he didn't see, which means that I'm not sure the dealer saw or was even paying attention to either the cards or what I was saying.

But it doesn't matter. It was a lame joke to begin with. What matters is that I have proven that I have learned how to harness the unseen forces of the universe to bring me whatever cards I want on demand.

Now I must remember to use my powers only for good, never for evil.

Other sights in Albuquerque

Today I finally had some time to sort through the rest of the hundreds of pictures I took during my recent week there with Cardgrrl. Though I had a wonderful time, the photographic record of it is pretty paltry, once you narrow it down to the shots that look halfway competent.

One afternoon we spent at the New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Science. Like the zoo, this surprised me for being a well-done place, given the small population it serves. What I especially liked about it was that they tried wherever possible to illustrate the principle or time period under consideration by using New Mexico specimens, whether geologic strata or fossils or whatever. There's lots of stuff there besides dinosaurs, but nothing cooler. I mean, how could anything be cooler than dinosaurs, right? So the only interesting pictures are of....

I've already mentioned our day at the zoo. After taking a lot of time with the gorilla photos Saturday, today I sorted through the remaining shots and found only a handful that even show decently what was being photographed, and trashed the rest. None of them will have the editors of National Geographic frantically searching for my phone number to offer me a job.

That same evening, we strolled through the adjacent Botanic Garden for its annual "River of Lights" exhibit. They have hundreds of arrangements of Christmas lights like the ones that follow. All very pretty, but extremely hard to photograph well.