Mean Gene
Mean Gene
Pittsburgh's most decorated poker blogger, which I admit is like being the best shortstop in Greenland

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My Articles

Presto, the Arlo, & the Hammer
An Online Code of Conduct
The Ethics of Ratholing
"The Professor, the Banker..."
"Ace on the River"

My Columns

Lose the Shades
If You Can't Say Something Nice
Whither the Kicker
The Lady is a Champ?
Covering the WSOP (or not)
Statistics, Luck, and Poker
Poker and New Orleans
Managing a Bankroll
How To Tell A Bad Beat Story
Telling Lies
The Power of Poker Tracker
Advanced Card-Handling

My Greatest Hits

5 Things To Do Before I Die
Cafeteria Nostalgia
Mean Gene's Dubious Dating Tips
Poker and Business?
There's No Such Thing As Luck?
Isabelle, Je t'adore
No Shirt No Shoes No Service
Well, The Food Was Good
Good Morning, Mr. Matusow!
The Weekend of our Discontent, I
The Weekend of our Discontent, II
Books That Left Their Mark
Ode to a Fish Sandwich
Bill Simmons Ain't the Poker Guy
The Sports Guy Still Ain't the Poker Guy
Again, The Media Tackles Poker
Five Years After 9/11
Hitting Pretty Girls in the Face
Sixth-Graders Suck

Fellow Poker Bloggers

Guinness and Poker
Cards Speak
Tao of Poker
Up for Poker
Boy Genius
Chris Halverson
Poker Grub
The Fat Guy
Todd Commish
Poker Works
Bill Rini
Bad Blood
Love and Casino War
Double As
Lion Tales
Paul Phillips
Daniel Negreanu
Poker Nerd
Poker Nation
Poker in Arrears
Human Head
Sound of a Suckout
Chicks With Chips
TP's Table Talk
Royal Poker
This is Not A Poker Blog
Chick and a Chair
Go Be Rude
Poker Cheapskate
Poker & Other Stuff
Seven Two
Musical Poker
WPBT Online
Isabelle Mercier
Cardschat Blog
Amy Calistri
BJ Nemeth
Annie's Blog

Poker Sites

Cardschat Poker Forum
Barstool Sports
Card Player
Internet Texas Hold-Em
Poker Pages


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    Tuesday, November 01, 2005

    Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas...Mostly Fear

    I am, as you might imagine, excited about going to Vegas in FIVE WEEKS. Remember, I've had to read ten of thousands of words written by yinz about previous WPBT events. How you couldn't wait to go. How the time was going so slowly. How it's finally here! And then, for weeks afterwards, meandering recaps of dirty little escapades that brought to mind the movie Rashomon, where different narrators give very different accounts of the same event. Of course, for me it was all the same--I was stuck in my goddam cube seething with envy.

    I seethe no more. Now I'm the one on pins and needles, ready to go. I'm already packed. No, I lie. But I did find myself sifting through my wardrobe looking for appropiate casinowear. I had to sift exceedingly fine--I haven't gone shopping for clothes in awhile and what I own is so bland as to be both timeless and completely unfashionable. I may need the advice of my friend Jeff, who visits Vegas regularly and who no doubt sneers at those who wander the casinos dressed in ObviousTouristWear. Then again, it's hard to find flashy threads in Pittsburgh, unless you're up for a solid-gold Ben Roethlisberger jersey. Which I'm not.

    So a Great Adventure beckons. I'm not sure if I should start drinking every day to condition my liver or teetotal until December 9th so I give myself an honest shot at survival. Should I immerse myself in Small Stakes Hold-Em or Harrington on Hold-Em? Or Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas? Is Debbie Reynolds performing that week?

    Which brings me back to the title of this post, and the one aspect of the trip that will probably make the time fly by for me. Emphasis on "fly". As in, I'm afraid to. I'm not afraid in a "you'd better sedate me or else I'm escaping by flushing myself down the loo" way, but more in a calm, rational "We're 30,000 feet in the air and unless I remain TOTALLY FOCUSED and sit RIDGIDLY AT ATTENTION it's quite possible the GODDAM WINGS WILL FALL OFF."

    I haven't flown post-9/11. My brother, who's coming with me, flies from Pittsburgh to Kansas City on business every week. You'd think he'd help relax me, but now HE says he doesn't like to fly. Great. I think we'll be leaving the 'Burgh around 8AM, not giving me much time to tailgate and get loaded before I board. Maybe I'll get lucky and fall asleep for a bit, but chances are I'll be WAY, WAAAAAAAY too keyed up to catnap. Where're the goddam bullet-trains like they have in Japan, where's the goddam infrastructure?

    It is ironic, of course, that growing up I wanted to be a fighter pilot/astronaut. Yep, that'd be me, downing a few shots and a beer before climbing into the cockpit of my F-15, shooting off Sidewinders just to see the fizzy little smoke trail they leave behind. Awesome.

    It doesn't help that last night I had one of those semi-waking dreams where I was on a plane and there was turbulence. We weren't crashing--just a few bumps. And I woke with my heart was going about 235 beats a second and my skin clammy with my pouring sweat. That sounds like another scene from Fear and Loathing. Like most scenes, actually.

    I know, rationally, that flying is the safest way to travel. Far safer than me driving cross-country for 5 days. I've never been on a flight were anything untoward occured. Everything's been quite routine. Dull, even. And that's fine. But to calm my nerves, would it be too much to ask for God to provide me with a notarized affidavit assuring me that nothing is going to happen? get this widget Please visit Pokernews site for more poker news, poker strategy articles or poker rules.

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