Get in the Ring

"You want to antagonize me? Antagonize me motherfucker, get on the ring motherfuckerand I will kick your bitchin little ass." That's from Get in the Ring, by Guns N Roses. I can't explain why or how, but in some way, shape, or form I identify with that sentiment. I have never thought of my self as a violent person, but I feel those words deeply whenever I listen to that song, which has been about40 times in the last 5 days. Now that I am driving again I have gone back into my CD collection and this is one of the CDs that I pulled out.

Can't explain it. Had to mention it.

And on a completely unrelated note:

Why Mike May should write more. From MikeMay.blogspot.com:

I understand that this isn't the most frequently updated of blogs. However, I like to believe that it is one of the better blogs out there that covers my life. And the posts aren't really very timely so you if you stop by and don't find a new post you can always just read an old one that you haven't seen and just pretend it's new.

And To My Loving Grandson Matthew

Sorry for this old joke, but somehow it seems appropriate.
Matthew knew that his grandfather was dying and although he hated to visit the old man he did so on a regular basis. As he would leave he would always say, "Now Grandpa, be sure to remember me in your will". Finally the old man died and at the reading of his will after reading the first of several bequeaths of the old man, the attorney reading the will announced, "And to my loving grandson who wanted me to remember him in my will, "Hi Matthew"

Hi Evan.

Wus Sup Wid Dat?

Now that I have gotten away from that horrible Star Cable an have gone back to Aster my life is much fuller. The service is 100% better, I don't have to suffer with some idiot technician changing one of my American channels to a Dominican sporting event and I even have good service when it rains. Amazing. The only thing I lost was the Fox channel, but I now have FoxNews, CNN and 4 or 5 movies channels that I didn't have previously. In addition I now get VH1.
Hey America:
What happened to the English Language? How does a channel like this exist? Are there that many dummies out there? Are there that many brain dead people that require a never ending diet of reality shows based on competitions between empty headed big breasted, tight abbed people? Several cable companies ago we had VH1 and Massiel and I would watch I Love New York. We laughed at the stupidity of the premise. New York, I have no clue as to her real name, was one of the losers of another reality show, where she tried to win the love of Flavor Flav. If you have ever seen Flavor Flav you might wonder, as I did, why anyone would want the love of one of the visibly dumbest people of all time. Other than his money, I failed to see a single redeeming quality. And at be honest, I don't think he could have enough money to make it worth anyone's efforts. I mean, the guy spoke in gibberish. A long time ago I remember taking a train from Manhattan to Mt. Vernon, where I lived, with a friend, Jon Millman. I remember we sat there for the entire 1/2 hour ride inventing words and expressions. Flavor Flav must been listening in. He uses a lot of our words when he is speaking. Wait a minute!! What kind of name is Flavor Flav?
That was all that we ever watched on that channel and we did so only to laugh at the participants. Now, VH1 has a never ending stream of these reality shows featuring bald, formerly famous (?) rock stars ( I never heard of him), rejects from other reality shows who never learned to speak their native tongue, and other shows that look so bad that I can't even watch to determine what they are about.

What about the commercials that accompany this quality programming? I recently saw an ad for FlirtyGirlFit. This DVD claims to be a body makeover system that uses sexy dance and exotic dance moves in an excercise video to help you get in shape. As a former frequenter of strip clubs in Dallas, I must tell you that as I watched the start of the commercial and saw the models dancing to empty chairs I thought to myself, "What, no pole? " and sure enough a few seconds later they include the offer of a pole . (Pole installation guide can be found at https:// www.flirtygirlfit.com/installation/FlirtyGirlFitness_PoleInstallationGuide.pdf). This should be called "For Strippers Only" I mean this is clearly a how to course in strip dancing, assuming that you start off scantily clad. I found it hard to believe, but the online reviews for this exercise workout are all raves.

I have always had a fascination with commercials. As I mentioned before, I only watched the Super Bowl to see the commercials. There are never too many bad commercials for me. One of my current favorites is for Shamwow. I can really see the need for a shamois cloth to absorb water from spills. I spill a lot of water, oh, maybe 20 or 30 times a day so these seem like a good invention. Of course if I order now they will double my order so that I can start to spill things 40 or 50 times a day. How did I ever exist without a Snuggie? Oh that's right, here I need two sheets on a cold night. How did you ever exist without one? I can't imagine?
Of course sometimes I get to see a really clever commercial like the ad for the new Blackberry that folds in half. No more "butt dialing" Genius.

A Night in Omaha at the Poker Table

I vaguely remember a Seinfeld episode in which Jerry finds a note next to his bed when he wakes up. The note was something that he thought of in his sleep and he thought it was so clever that at some point, while still in bed, he wrote it down. The problem is that he can't remember what it means.
I have a Blackberry that I use all the time. Not only is it my phone, but I am often in situations where I am waiting for someone or something, so I go online and read. I read newspapers, ESPN, and LandoverBaptist, to name a few of my favorite sites. Now, however, that I am a world renowned blogger I also use the Blackberry to make notes. Sometimes I will use the note application, but that is a bit time consuming so sometimes I make a voice recording so that I can listen to it later. Saturday, Massiel had her two cousins (slaves) sleep over after they were at the hospital visiting their grandfather. He is better, thanks. The two girls are about 11 and 12 and Massiel has them do all kinds of chores for her. They do her nails, if she cooks for them they do the dishes. That is Kiara doing her toe nails and Jessica combing her hair. Sometimes they give body massages using creams. These are not the "Hey rub my back a little, will you?" kind of massages. These are 45 minutes to an hour in length and often last much longer.
Anyway with the girls there to take care of Massiel I made a trip over to the casino to play some Poker. I don't really enjoy playing that much on the weekends, because they always have some sort of musical entertainment, which is always way too loud. The volume is apropos for a 50,000 seat stadium, but unfortunately, the casino is noticeably smaller. It's horrible, but the Poker area is towards the back, where it is still way too loud, but it is still Poker. Before I left, by taxi, I told Massiel that I would probably drink at the casino. That means get drunk. As I have said previously, I miss my pot. Every so often ( about once every 6 weeks) I like to get blitzed and this was one of those nights. My goal, if I am drinking, is to get drunk as quickly as possible. This is something that I have mastered. I drink Dewar's Scotch. I have a half about 5 ounces to start, which I drink like a shooter of Tequila, followed in about 10 minutes by another 3 or 4 ounces and that does the job. Really does the job.
When I started drinking I was ahead about 3000 pesos ($90US). I wound up playing another hour or so, shitfaced, but relatively under control (I think, but I wasn't really there, so I can't be sure) and wound up winning another 3000 pesos. At some point during the game, with the music blasting in the background, I was inspired to make a recording to remember a hilarious idea. I didn't remember that I had made the entry until yesterday afternoon and when I listened to it I was reminded of Seinfelds note. His read something like "flaming sheets of scardon", or something like that. I had made two entries. One was a list of names. And the other was "A Night in Omaha at the Poker Table". What the hell does that mean? I was clueless when I first listened to this note, and even now I am not sure what it means. Good thing I had my recorder with me. Next time I hope to remember to record an explanation of the entry.

Hold Me (OK) Touch Me (No Thanks)

At the start of The Producers, Max Bialystock is romancing old ladies so that they give him money to produce his plays. After one old woman leaves his office he starts frantically searching through the dresser in which he keeps the pictures of his other "contributors". As he does so he keeps saying, "Hold me, touch me, hold me touch me". He finally finds the picture, sets it up on his desk just as there is a knock on the door. He opens it to a woman, probably in her late 70's or early 80's who immediately starts pining, "Oh Bialystock, hold me touch me, hold me, touch me". Massiel picked up the phrase and uses it to summon me to the bed, but only so that she can annoy me. I was reminded of the phrase again today as I entered the factory. There were 4 supervisors standing by the door as I came in. Having given thought to what I was going to write about today on the 25 minute ride to the factory (which is where I usually think about what I am going to write) I was all set to hit the computer and get started as soon as I clicked here-it's free.

I noticed a long time ago that this is a hand shaking country. I have always been more of a wave hello kind of guy. Here, someone will enter a room, or come upon someone he knows, but he is never content just to shake the hand of the people that he knows. He feels it would be rude not to touch all the hands that he can in greeting. I also came to the realization a long time ago that this is not a hand washing country. If at all possible I use public bathrooms only to pee. That's not only here. I have been afraid of public toilet seats all my life. The only public bathrooms that I use now are located in my factory or in one of the casinos that I go to. That's it. Once at a Poker tournament at Ocean World Casino, in Puerto Plata, I was in the john doing my business while a bunch of my cardplaying friends finished their business or started and finished their business (prostate problems, I take forever) There were 5 people I knew who I observed in my two trips. Not one used the sink. I told those people the next time I saw them at the Almirante casino that from now on I was only willing to fist pump hello. I have observed that virtually no one uses the sink to wash their hands after doing their business in the bathroom. While I was shaking the hands of the four people this morning I was wondering exactly how many penises I was actually touching by proxy. It kind of grossed me out. Immediately I went and washed my hands with soap and water.I didn't want you to feel dirty for reading this. I have to start wearing gloves in public.

Click Here To Give - It's Free

My ex wife (wife number 2), Bonnie is a 5 year breast cancer survivor. About 4 years ago she told me about a website that provides free mammograms for women who can't afford them. That's kind of noble. The address is : http://www.thebreastcancersite.com/clickToGive/home.faces?siteId=2
WARNING: GO THERE AT YOUR OWN RISK!! Its addictive. Here's why.
When you go to that site there is a huge pink link that says "Click Here To Give - It's Free".After you click the link you go to a page that tells you that your click has been counted and that the sponsors will donate some money to help a woman in need. I added the site to my favorites list and decided that every time I opened my computer, whether at home or at work, I would go first to this site and click. So every time I open a computer I am clicking to help someone who needs it. It feels good. I don't remember how, but a few years later I discovered another similar site only this time run by some sort of animal rescue group. It has the same "Click Here To Give - It's Free" sign. That's kind of noble also. I added this site to my favorites list and for the past few years the first thing I do online is to go to both sites and click. At the animal rescue site after you click they inform you that in return for your click the sponsors have just donated .6 bowls of food to animals in need. Anyone reading this blog, which might actually still be nobody, or anyone who knows me, knows how I feel about animals. I'm a sucker for a site like this.
Today I made a very troubling discovery. I don't know how I missed them previously, but apparently these two sites now have links to four other "Click Here To Give - It's Free" sites. They are The Literacy site where each click helps someone attain reading skills, The Hunger Site where each click gives 1.1 cups of food to people that are in need of food, The Child Health Care site where the value of the click is kind of vague in that it only says that you are helping another child in need get health care, and The Rain Forest site. I am afraid that this one pushed me over the edge. It's probably a good cause. To be honest, knowing that my click has saved 11.4 square feet of the rain forest just doesn't do it for me. Now if it went to help the people living in the rain forest that would be a different story. Since I open my computers no less than twice a day, and often more, that means that I will save a minimum of 8322 square feet of rain forest this year. Somehow it feels like someone is taking advantage of my desire to help others. What do I do? How do I continue to open my computer and continue clicking. There are now six sites in need of my daily help. That adds a couple of minutes to my computer opening. More importantly, as the "Click Here To Give - It's Free" sites proliferate what do I do? What happens when there is a "Chinese Food Site", where each click sends a free egg roll to people, such as myself, who at some point in their lives had access to Chinese food whenever they wanted it but now find themselves forced to chose between Jade Express (guaranteed diarrhea), or that place on the highway that is called Chinese Food, where the owners are Chinese and the food is really a fusion of Creole and something else, with Chinese sounding names. Or how about "The Quiet Site", where each click causes a CONE OF SILENCE to be lowered over some poor guy suffering from the incessant car horns, loud music and yelling and screaming (almost all Domincans talk to each other as if they are in the loudest factory in the world or as if the person they are talking to is outside of the room that they are in). If you are assuming these sites were dreamt up by me only for me, you might be right, and I will probably find myself clicking at least twice daily at those sites. But what happens if someone opens The Cougar Site, to help needy older women score with younger men, or The Blow Site where each click donates 1/8 of a gram of coke to people who did so much blow that they lost everything and now can't afford to get high? How about a "The Grande Site" for those that can no longer afford their ridiculously priced cup of coffee in the morning and now have to drink something from Dunkin Donuts, or worse, something from their own kitchen? Someone has to put some limits on the "Click Here To Give - It's Free". But who? A government agency? The owner of the Internet? I don't know who or how, but I do know if something isn't done soon to stop their growth I may never again have spare time.

Special Class

I don't know if he ever did it live, but on one of Bill Cosby's first recordings (a record, if you remember those things) he did a bit about kids in Special Class. I don't remember much about it other than what the kids in the class used to say as they were leaving their regular classroom to go to their Special Class. "Well, uh-huh, they're going to special class, uh-huh and then they're taking us to the zoo, uh-huh, and then we're going to a lot of special, uh-huh places, uh-huh.
I play cards 2 or 3 nights a week (My remembrance was pretty good, I just checked it out on You Tube). I play only during the week when I am know that Massiel is happily watching her novelas. Novelas are soap operas for my non Spanish speaking audience. Women in this country love their soap operas. Most of the soaps shown here are made either in Columbia, Venezuela, or Mexico. I am not aware of any that are produced here in the DR. Never having watched a US soap in my life, nor paid attention to one here, I am, nonetheless aware of the difference between Spanish and American "daytime dramas". Sometimes I am using the computer while Massiel is watching and I can't help but observe a little of what goes on. First of all, here they are on at night. Spanish soaps are violent, noisy, and overly dramatic. The yelling and screaming have been known to drive me away from the computer and out of the room. Someone is always beating someone, there is always a jail and hospital scene. I think that women watching this believe that this is really the way the way life is supposed to be. The rage of the women on TV reminds me of the hotheadedness of Dominican women. I have come to believe that women here learn how to behave by watching these programs as children.
G-d bless Ginko Biloba. Thanks to Ginko my memory is as sharp as it ever has been. I started this as a Poker entry and thanks to these wonderful pills I still remember why I started writing.
I once wrote a fictionalized description of the people with whom I play Poker for a gambling magazine. I had to exagerate a little to try to bring some humor to the article. I don't have to do that any more. The game is No Limit Hold'em. The blinds are 100-200 pesos (the US equivalent of $3 and $6). The minimum buy-in is only 2000RD (about $65 US). I might be the only player that buys in for enough. I start with 8000. Most of the players buy in for the minimum which means that the big blind alone is costing them 10% of their stack. What this does is change the betting. There are no such things as probe bets, teasers, slow plays. There is no strategy whatsoever. There are only three things that the other players do after the flop. They all try to limp in before the flop and after they check, fold, or go all in. That's it. The majority of the players believe that the game is 90% luck. As the laws of probability dictate, they take turns having their lucky nights. When it is their night to be lucky it confirms to them that that what the game is about. The fact that I win 8 or 9 times out of 10 never seems to enter their thinking. The majority of them are really Special Class candidates.
Here are a few of my favorites:
Myra: Myra owns a colmado, a small bodega, which affords her a pretty good income by Dominican standards. She has been a Poker player for at least 8 years and has never seen two cards that she won't play. She folds probably one hand out of 10, maybe less. Her real weakness is that once she has put in the first 200 pesos, she can't bear to lose it. She will call all of her chips once she has anything invested. Last night she called a big raise preflop by the BB while she was on the button with J9 offsuit. The flop came K 9 2, rainbow, and the BB bet all in. Myra pushed her money in so fast to call that she almost burned the sides of her hand on the felt.
The big blind had flopped a set of kings. Myra trusts no one and always thinks that the bettor is bluffing.
Barbara. Barbara discovered casinos about 6 months ago. She started to play Poker shortly after that. She loves the idea of gambling. The excitement gets her juices flowing. Someone told her that I give Poker lessons, and she paid me my normal fee of $10,000 pesos (a little less than $350 US) for lessons. Barbara works as an architect and is a really intelligent woman. She learned everything I had to teach her in the 10 hours we spent together. She even went so far as to buy 5 books that I had recommended and is in the process of reading them. She aspires to be a great tournament player. There is only one problem. She is playing for the excitement. In order to make her time at the table as exciting as possible she does things that she knows that she shouldn't do. Poker, if played well, is basically a boring game. That doesn't work for her. As I have said to her several times, "You can bring a horse to water, but you can't make them drink". I hope that someday she takes control of her game
El Pensador (The Thinker). I don't know his real name and don't know who gave him this nickname (I have to think that they were being sarcastic) but it is now the only name he answers to and is the only way he refers to himself,usually in the third person. "The thinker calls, the thinker raises, "etc. This is the guy that Special Classes were implemented to help. Plays almost every hand and when bet into always looks at the board trying to figure out a reason, no matter how remote, that he can call. He is one big tell. He chatters nonstop when he makes his big bet with top pair, lousy kicker, silent as a mouse when he has the nuts, and never bluffs. Now here is the best part. I can't beat this guy. Against me he is the walking, talking definition of a luck box. I don't want to turn this into a bad beat story so suffice it to say that his Kings beat my Aces, his Aces beat my Kings, and his gut shots always materialize. I know that the educational system here was recently ranked as the worst in the world and this guy is a proud product of that system. Special class or no.

I Don't Blog Just to Complain

Well, maybe I do. Only time will tell. Yesterday I was thinking about my next TGAO blog and I started thinking that maybe I am writing for only to be able to complain about the things that bother me. I checked all my post thus far and so far the complaints are winning. In an effort to give some balance I offer you:

THINGS I LOVE/LIKE

I love Rock n' Roll ( That is up until the music of the 90's. I don't ever get to hear anything new
in the DR).
I love my Hyundai.
I love my Blackberry.
I love to play Poker.
I love Massiel.
I love QD. Harry is too distant to be loved, but he is kinda cool.
I love Michele, and I love that she is marrying Michael.
I love being able to wear shorts every day and having to use the AC in January and February.
I love to see people in their Tahoes and Expeditions getting 2 miles per gallon.
I loved seeing the truck filled with pigs pulled over with it's driver filling a bucket with water
from the side of the road and then throwing it onto the pigs to cool them off.
I love the music of Mana, Marco Antonio Soliz, Juan Luis Guerra.
I love I'm Yours by Jason Mraz.
I love Suji. Sometimes you meet people who bring a certain sense of joy and fun to the lives of others. That's Suji.
I love the Tao of Poker.
I love the pool at the Almirante and that I have always had access to it.
I love my brother and sister.
I love that Massiel and my exwife have become friends. Aracelis has always been one of my favorite people. She was just not a good wife, for me.
I love blogging, even if no one is reading it. It gives me a sense of something, I'm just not quite
sure what that something is.
I love Sal, even though he can be one of the most annoying people in the world.
I love the internet.
I love Google and Ask.com. I love that I can find the answer to anything.
I love chicken.
I love smoking pot, even though I haven't done it in a long time.
I love Poker tournaments.
I love Zeca Pagodinho. (He's a Brazilian singer I discovered about 20 years ago. I drive around listening to his music, singing at the top of my lungs, not understanding a word.
I love You Tube.
I love Pablo Bernal. He was the GM of the second casino at which I had Poker tables. He¡s now the GM of a Casino in Maracaibo, Venezuela, and hates it.
I love York bite size Peppermint Patties.
I love Wintergreen flavored Life Savers.
I love the writings of The Sports Guy, Bill Simmons.
I love reading the New York Times, make that I love reading.
I love living in Santiago as long as I am not driving at night. It's big, relatively safe and affordable. Thanks to my prior ownership of Poker tables in both major casinos in town I am a mini-celebrity, which means that I am constantly being recognized in public places and greeted like someone important (which is not really so).
I love.................

I like lots of the blogs that Pauly refers to
I like Poker Stars
I like Cung Weng
I like that, as a kid, I decided that my favorite number was 7 (my birth date)and that my
favorite color was green, and that I have never changed either. Even though I have never
owned anything green, changing the color never entered my mind. Ask me, and without
hesitation I will tell you, "Green".
I like Sea Bass.
I like Moncito, even though he has been jerking me around for years about partnering with me in a Poker Room. I want to open a real Poker Room, not just a couple of tables in a casino.



I like..................

I think I am going to let this entry be a work in process. I am sure that I am forgetting a lot.

What A Putz!!!

I have very few firsts to my name. In fact, as I started writing this entry I was unable to think of anything that I did first. Now, I have put that lack behind me. Read the title again. That's the first sports article using that title.
Since I moved to the DR my interest in sports has been reduced to almost zero. I was a Mets, Jets, Knicks, and Ranger fan for most of my adult life. Quitting basketball happened first. I was a huge Knick fan back in the days of Bradley, Reed, Monroe, Debusschere. At some point basketball became a game of only tall people. If you wanted to be a basketball player you had to be pituitarily challenged. Only tall people played the game. You can say, "Hey what about Mugsy Boggs", or some other under 6' player. OK, that's one. I was originally a Dodger fan and can still remember leaving the Polo Grounds in tears after watching the Dodgers lose. When they left for L. A. I followed them for a while and when the Mets came into existence I switched back to a NY team. Rooting for the Yankees was always out of the question. I was originally a New York Football Giant fan. Thanks to Bob Aschkenasy who got us with the help of someone his father knew in the pressbox, I was at what is supposedly the best championship game ever between the Giants and the Colts. I took home a broken piece of one of the benches. It was a real wooden bench, dark green if I remember correctly. Not a modern, heated, contoured plastic sofa. A bench. At the point at which I realized that the Mara family, the owners of the team, had no interest in doing anything that cost money to improve the team (which was after Fran Tarkenton left) I quit them. Their stadium was alway sold out with a huge waiting list. There was no cable and the home games were always unavailable within 90 miles of Yankee Stadium and the Maras were unwilling to spend any money to improve the team since there no extra income to be earned for being good, other than the occasional playoff game. At some point I became a Jet fan. I never switched away from the New York Rangers, but they just don't show a lot of hockey in the DR, and slowly I lost interest as I lost track of the team. For me, team sports have become unwatchable. Their is no team in team sports. They should change the name to me sports.
My favorite play in all of sports has become the fair catch in football. It is the only play in sports that is never followed by chest thumping, finger pointing, taunting or excessive celebration. The only play in all of sports. I forget who said it, possibly The Sports Guy on ESPN page 2, but its a fact.
Sadly, I don't watch sports regularly anymore and when I do it is usually to see something other than the game. I watched this year's Super Bowl mainly to watch the commercials. I happened to see a great game. I also saw Santonio Holmes almost blow the game on the play before his heroic catch. He was celebrating the previous catch so much that his quarterback ( I refuse to look up the correct spelling of one more name) could not call the timeout that he wanted to take.
What does this have to do with being first? I saw a while ago that the Mets have acquired a relief pitcher by the name of JJ Putz. How long do you think it will be before he blows a save and either The Daily News or The New York Post steals my headline?

TGAO, continued

Driving in the DR, particularly in Santiago, is a challenging, frustrating, and aggravating experience. When I was thinking about buying a car I predicted that I would either be dead or in jail within 6 months of my purchase. Dead at the hand of another motorist, by gunfire or in an accident, or in jail for killing someone with my own bare hands. This Friday will mark four weeks as a driver and I am still alive and free. Sadly, my prediction is looking more and more accurate. I think that my prediction had some validity. The sense of decorum exhibited in every day life here, whether exhibited in a bank while waiting on line or driving on a street or highway, can be explained with a simple example. Imagine a shoe box filled with ants. Cut a small hole at one end slightly above the bottom of the box. Now place some sugar outside the box. Can you possibly imagine the ants forming a single file line in order to get out of the box in an orderly fashion or, more likely, can you imagine the ants climbing on top of one another in a death struggle to be the first one to get out of the box? What you get with the ants is the Dominican driving experience. To give you a little better feeling for the driving experience here I would like to present the Dominican road rules as written by someone else and amended by me:

#1. Use your horn a lot, for any reason or no reason at all. Blast the guy in front of you for stopping for a red light. In a traffic jam, lean on that horn and add all the racket you can to the general confusion. It won’t help one little bit, but you’ll have the satisfaction of making yourself heard (maybe); something like a child throwing a tantrum.

#2 Always drive at top speed. Patience is a sign of weakness.

#3. If there is a vehicle in front of you, pass it. It doesn’t matter if you have to go around it, over it, under it, or through it; you MUST get in front of it. Even if you are a bus driver and you are going to pull over and stop as soon as you have passed the other vehicle.

#4. If you are a male driver, never let a female driver pass you. A real man can’t put up with that kind of nonsense.

#5. Don’t make left turns. The driver behind you will try to pass on your left while you are doing it, because God forbid he should have to slow down or stop while you make your turn. Pull over to the right and wait until the road is clear for five miles in either direction before you turn; OR, get into the wrong lane half a mile before your turn and make your left from there.

#6. If the driver ahead of you is making a left turn, ram him.

#7. If you are coming out of a driveway or side street, and the only vehicle coming is a motorbike, pull out in front of him. In a collision between a car and a motorbike, the motorbike is going to lose, so obviously it’s up to him to stop.

#8. Ignore traffic lights. They’re only there to impress the tourists.

#9. If you are in a traffic jam, and you see an open lane which might possibly be used to unsnarl the mess, block it as quickly as possible. And don’t forget that horn.

#10. If the vehicle in front of you is passing a vehicle in front of him, pass them both so that you have three vehicles side by side in a line across the highway, going in the same direction. If you’re a public car driver, this is a great way to scare the hell out of any tourists in your car.

#11. When driving at night keep your high beams on all the time. If drivers of oncoming cars find them too bright, well, that’s what sunglasses are for.

#12. Seat belts are silly gringo decorations.

#13. If you see that the car you are overtaking is being driven by someone you know, stay alongside him for a few miles so you can have a chat.

#14. Indicator lights are there to warn other drivers of what you intend to do, but since every other driver on the road is an enemy, why should you give them any warnings?

#15. When you park your car, remember that NO PARKING signs do not apply to you personally.

#16. On the highway stay in whatever lane you choose. If you choose the left lane (considered the passing lane in many countries) stay there and drive at whatever speed you choose. Don't move aside to let someone pass. You were there first. Hold your ground.

#17. My father once said a long time ago that no matter how fast you drive there is always someone who is going to drive faster. With the exception of the people observing rule #16, everyone drives faster than you.

#18. When driving if you get the urge to pee, DO IT. Do it wherever you are. If you are on the highway pull over. If you are on a city street, park and whiz against the nearest building. What do you think your ancestors did?

#19. If there is a left turn only lane at a traffic light that has a left turn only signal, if there are less cars in that lane than the others, enter it whether you are turning left or not. You will save time forcing your way into the other lanes and sometimes if you are really lucky and there is no one in the lane a jack rabbit start will get you ahead of everyone else. This is a great chance to show your driving skill if the turn light has turned red but is still green for those going straight and now you have to merge in at high speed.

Of course, given the number of motorcycles on the road here, there are some special rules for them, too.

#1. When driving along that stretch of highway which runs through a beach town, go at your flat out, top speed. It’s your right to endanger yourself and the community; and besides, people love to hear the noise your engine makes when you have the throttle wide open - day or night.

#2. If you see a traffic jam up ahead, just use the sidewalks. If you should run down a pedestrian, it’s his fault for not jumping out of the way quickly enough.

#3. When you park your motorbike, leave it in a place where it will cause the greatest inconvenience; the road, the entrance to a driveway, the doorway of a store, etc.

#4. Hang your helmet on your handlebar so if you have an accident, people will have something to scrape your brains into after they’ve been splattered all over the road.

#5. It is not necessary to repair broken headlights or tail lights. Car drivers should be able to see you in their high beams, and they generally drive as if you’re not there anyhow.

Oh yes; a driver’s licence is nice, but who really needs one? If you do apply for one remember to bring $500 pesos ($15.00US) to insure that you pass.

Got the idea?

The Gloves Are Off

I have thus far resisted the urge to bad mouth The Dominican Republic. Nobody made me come here, and nothing, other than economic reality, is forcing me to stay. Having said that, a person would have to be deaf and dumb or a DFD not to realize that there is something seriously wrong with the inhabitants of this glorious island. I am none of the above. I see things on a daily basis about which I can no longer stay silent. Those who know me, know that I can't keep my big mouth shut. I once had a partner who said that I would volunteer to go into a field to try to check for land mines. In trying to decide how to present my observations I have decided to break them into small rants, rather than one long (neverending?) rave. The Gloves Are Off (TGAO)

I Tan At Night, Even in the Rain

In Close Encounters of the Third Kind Richard Benjamin is looking for an alien spaceship. The spaceship somehow gets behind him and suddenly rises up behind his truck with the brightest array of lights ever seen on any vehicle. It is covered from top to bottom in lights that are so blindingly strong that Richard Benjamin actually winds up getting a severe sunburn on one side of his face, not from direct exposure, but rather, from the reflection from his rear view mirror.
About 5 months after arriving here I created my first anti Dominican joke: Why do Dominicans always honk their horns? Because they have them. Why do Dominicans always drive with their bright lights on at night. Because they have them. I will leave out the punch line. The joke was based on my experiences driving around. Having been without a car for more than 3 years, I recently decided that the cost of taxis was starting to get prohibitive and that I had to buy a car, so I did. At first I didn't want an SUV, but eventually I discovered the Hyundai Sante Fe. I read a lot about the car it was very well reviewed. It's big, but I am really thankful for its size and most of all its height. I mention Close Encounters because since I have the car I have noticed something of which I was unaware as a passenger in a taxi. Not only does everyone here drive with their bright lights on, but now it seems there is a new brighter blue-white head light that when on in the bright position, are absolutely blinding just like the alien ship. There is also a new yellow, ultra bright light that are all over as well. I can't believe how many cars have changed to these lights. When I asked a friend why so many people have bought these lights, even for their motorbikes and scooters he answered with one word which, the more I think about it, could be the defining problem in the DR. The word he used as explanation for the use of these lights? FASHION. Fashion, brilliant word to choose. No sense, no value.....FASHION.
The concept of using bright lights only when the road is dark is not understood. People think that their brights are to be used at all times and even though they might be blinded by someone else using them, they don't care how it affects others. They got 'em, they use 'em, day or night.

That's What I Call A Birthday

Growing up in Mt. Vernon, a suburb of New York City, I was always very excited when my birthday came around. My father, was really into gadgets. I am talking about the 1950'sand early 60's . Among some of the gadgets that I remember, there was a 3D camera. It took pictures out of two lenses simultaneously and and the pictures were developed as two slides mounted together to be viewed through a viewer with two eye pieces so that the pictures really were in 3D. He owned a tape recorder that recorded sound on a thin piece of wire. He bought one of the first portable radios and one of the first portable TVs. The radio weighed a lot, but the TV was definitely hernia material. It was about 5" by 5" and was about 18" high. You viewed it by lifting a lid on the side and looking into a mirror that was projecting the picture from within. It weighed a ton. The picture screen was probably 2"square. However the thing weighed a ton because back then there was no such thing as small batteries. It probably weighed more than 20 lbs. I also remember that we had a table console tv that had a 7" screen that he had bought in the late 1940's. It was stored in our basement once it was replaced by larger screen tvs. My parents told me that it was one of the first tvs in their neighborhood and at night their neighbors used to come to their apartment to watch this great new invention. We had one of the first color tvs in the neighborhood. My father also had a color camera which he used to film not only my birthday parties, but those of my brother and sister as well. My brother has those films today, and has transferred them to video tape. You can tell that birthdays were always important.
Big day, big celebration. As I got older I still made a point of celebrating my birthday as best I could, with varying degrees of success. In the late 70's I was in my first business, The Other Way, a novelty knit company for Juniors. I had a designer by the name of Robert Hansen. Robert was the best jr. designer around. To this day he is still one of the best. Robert is gay. I had recently had the girl I was living with to move out and hadn't started to date anyone. I had no plans for my birthday and when Robert asked what I was doing that night I told him that I wasn't doing anything. He invited me to go out to dinner with a bunch of his friends, which was really nice of him. I wound up spending the night with Robert and a bunch of his friends.
When I started to write this I had no remembrance of who was there other than Robert. Amazingly, to me, as I am writing, I am remembering more and more. In addition to Robert, who has been my friend for more than 30 years, there was Mel, a tall screaming queen type, Kenny, one of the most promiscuous gay man of all time. Kenny loved to regale his friends with stories about his escapades at the gay movies. He used to go to the men's room to hang out. He was a big fan of the "Glory Hole", a hole cut into the partition separating the stalls in the men's room. One person would stick his member through it, without knowing who (or what) was on the other side, and that other person would in some way service the visitor. I don't remember which part Kenny played. I am not sure of the rest of the people there.
Bulletin, Bulletin......I just called Robert to verify who else was there. He wasn't sure either but we came up with some other names. Among the other potential people that we came up with were; Charlie who was some sort of priest or something. We all called him Father Corn Hole. His boyfriend was Joe. I don't remember much about Joe, other than that he was small, dirty, and depressing. Robert to this day has never stopped laughing. Even when I was just talking to him. Miraculously, I remembered his home number and was merely calling to leave a message asking him to email me with his work number. He answered and when I asked how come he was home, he laughingly told me that he broke his leg yesterday.
Listening to these men or maybe, we were still boys then, complain about their lives was really depressing. What is so gay about being gay? Certainly anyone listening in on the conversation would have contemplated suicide. I decided while sitting there that I would never spend a birthday like that again. And I haven't. I usually start to remind people in December or January of the upcoming event and am unrelenting until the day has passed. I call people and leave messages like, "Hi, it's Joel. My birthday is Saturday, February 7, and I like to be remembered." Without going into all the details, I had a great birthday. The casino bought me a birthday cake, and I was toasted as a Poker legend (I am for sure, if only in my own mind). Massiel took great care of me, we went out for an awesome dinner, and the day was filled with phone calls and e-cards from many others. Altogether a great day.

Best Dog Ever

I can't imagine what it must be like to be without any affection. I was brought up in a loving family and have always felt that I was loved. I know that my daughter loves me and I know that Massiel loves me as well.
I have been working in La Vega since last March, in a factory where myself and my two partners are producing bras. We are located in the La Vega Free Zone, an industrial park which contains about 20+ factories. When I started coming here I noticed immediately that the park was the home to a lot of dogs. In the DR dogs are loose on the street everywhere you go. I have never, in ten years, encountered an unfriendly or angry dog. The dogs are always hungry and the hot weather saps their strength. It is really unusual to hear a stray dog barking, they are just too weak. There were a couple of dogs that hung out at the entrance to the factory, usually in the loading dock. Two of them were identical in coloring although one was kind of chubby and the other thin. I named the chubby one Smiley because of the way she bared her teeth when she was happy. Not a snarl, more like a smile. It wasn't long before I started bringing food for these two dogs. Smiley always came right up to me as I brought out the food. The other dog, who I named Lady, due to her very lady like restraint, was much more reserved. It got to the point where Smiley recognized the sound of my car door and when she heard it she came running to greet me almost every morning. Every time I went food shopping I made sure to buy cans of dog food to take care of my "girls". Smiley was really the best part of every day at the factory. I knew that when I went outside, if she was around, she would start kind of jumping around for joy, and always, as I came closer she would start thumping her tail, really fast. At first I thought she was happy that she was going to get some food. With time I came to believe that she was not showing affection for the food, but rather, because I was probably the first person in her life ( I would guess she was about 4 or 5 years old) to show her any affection, she was excited to receive some loving- When I would go outside she would roll over so that I could rub her. She would stay on her back forever, while I rubbed her belly, her head her nose, anything. I made a video on my Blackberry and posted it on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5bee5bb1QXI

It's not great quality and for some reason it plays on You Tube slower than the actual recording, but it still gives you an idea of the affection she always showed.

It wasn't too long after I started going to La Vega that I realized that Smiley was pregnant. Then in July or August she disappeared for a couple of weeks. I was really worried. I was afraid that something had happened and then one day she reappeared. She was carrying one of her puppies in her mouth. It wasn't until she put it down that I realized that the puppy was dead. I think now that she thought that maybe I could fix it. With time, the baby was forgotten and we settled into a regular schedule. Food and clean water upon my arrival, 3 or 4 visits for rubbing and a snack as I was leaving. Always when I went out just to see her she immediatley rolled on her back. I really came to have strong feelings for her. I went so far as to discuss with Massiel the possibility of bringing Smiley home for Christmas Holiday. All the factories were going to close about the 12th of December and were going to reopen the first week of January. I was concerned that with no one around there would be no food. I realized, however, that with two cats already in the house, the idea of bringing a non house broken dog just didn't make sense.
The factory closed for holiday and Cung Weng, one of my partners, came to the factory to take care of something. He called me that night to tell me that he found Smiley dog dead in front of our factory. She, as well as all the other dogs living in the free zone had been poisoned. Apparently some motherfucker was bothered by these dogs roaming around, bothering nobody, and decided to kill them all. I realized a couple of days later that Smiley probably came to the factory while she was dying in the hope, just as I then realized she had with her puppy, that I could fix her. Sadly, I wasn't there.

The Boys

That's QD on the top and Harry underneath. Actually that is kind of fitting. Sometimes we refer to Harry by his other name, Under. He is always under something. QD is the devil of the two and Harry is a what people are referring to when the use the expression "scaredy cat".

Lock the door when you leave

I live in a gated community comprised of about 10 buildings, each one three stories tall, and interconnected by walkways. When I got home last night I found someone working on the front door of my building. About an hour later I left for the casino. As I got to the front gate I realized that I had forgotten to take my earphones with me, and since I enjoy listening to music as I playPoker, I went back to get them. I parked the car and went to the front door and it was locked. I asked my neighbor, who was getting out of his car, which he always parks in such a way so as to take up two spaces, if he had a key. He didn't and neither did the guard at the front gate. So I just walked around to the side of the building and entered there. Understand, they put a lock on the front door and the two side entrances have no doors!!!!

Give me taxis or give me death

I bought a used car two weeks ago. Its a Hyundai Sante Fe, an SUV (called a jeepeta here). When I first started to look for a car I knew that I didn't want an SUV. You have to jump to get into the thing. On top of that with gasoline prices as high as they are (here gas is really expensive all the time), I was really concerned with the MPG I was going to get. Today the price of gasoline is ONLY about $2.90. However, before the economic crisis, the price was more than $6.00/gallon. After looking at new cars, which I couldn't afford, used cars that I didn't like, Massiel, who had been studying car websites for more than a year, suggested that we go look at a Sante Fe at a used car dealer near where we live. I loved it. I wanted it. I checked it out on CarFax. Once I read the reviews of this model in the Kelly Blue BookI was hooked. I called and said that I would come by the next day to buy it. When Massiel got there the next morning it was already sold. Now the hunt was on full bore. I located 3 more Sante Fes and went to look at them the next day. I found a great, clean, one owner Sante Fe and bought it. Great looking car. Reasonable (17mpg) gas mileage. Big. You don't sit down into an SUV, you climb into it. Suddenly I became a taxi driver. The convenience of being able to go anywhere I want whenever I want without having to wait for a taxi is something I had longed for. I had had 4 really great taxi drivers who I used on a regular basis. Luis, my normal day driver, is sweet and was very reliable. Nelson my regular night driver is really smart, and fun to ride with. He is hard working and entrepreneurial. I had two other day drivers, Rene and Noel. All were really nice guys. Now however, when something is needed, Joel the taxi driver gets the call. It's OK when I want to go food shopping or go over to the casino at night. However, when Massiel's nieces need to be picked up or taken home, or when Massiel needs a lift somewhere I sure miss my drivers. Yesterday was a further reminder of how I miss my drivers. I left work early to go to the bank to get my monthly SS payment. From there I had to go to another bank to cash the dollars into pesos at a more favorable rate than that offered by the bank that receives my money. From there I had to go to one pharmacy located quite a distance away. I use this pharmacy because the owner, Infante, when working for other pharmacies, always went out of his way to make sure that he had the products that I use. Unfortunately where he is located apparently there is not as much call for some of the medicines that I use so I have to use more than one pharmacy. The other pharmacy that I use was where Infante worked last. Infante's store is located in a really shitty area, and there is no organized parking. You just kind of park on the sidewalk, hope that no one sideswipes your car and do your business as quickly as possible, before someone steals it. The most popular mode of travel for most poor people (most of the people) is the concho. A concho goes in a prescribed route which is designated by a sign with a letter denoting the route on the car door and a passenger can get in or out whenever they wish, always for the same fare. You just hail them, or more likely, if the driver sees you, they hail you. Conchos are usually small beat up cars 20+ years old. My favorite fact about conchos is that regardless of the size of the car they accept two passengers in the front and 4 (regardless of size) passengers in the back. Yesterday at 4 P.M. the road to Infante's store had every concho in the entire world busily driving on it. They weave in and out. They stop without warning. They observe no traffic law. They are a law unto themselves. Now here I come, steering the Queen Mary through this Venetian canal. It was a nightmare. My car didn't fit and because I had to constantly stop to allow the conchos their right of way it took forever. Then after weaving my way back and forth I arrived at the other pharmacy. There was a parking spot right in front with a meter. I put the necessary money in the meter and went inside. Something didn't seem right about the parking spot. It was too easy too find for such a busy area. Sure enough when I came out I saw that I had gotten a parking ticket for parking illegally. I still don't get it. There was a sign that said that the area was for loading and unloading only, but there was a meter which I assumed meant that it was OK to park there and that further up the block, where the sign was, you couldn't park. Long story short 300 peso fine. That's what I used to pay Luis to take me to the two banks, the two pharmacies and home. I miss Luis.

Screw Star Cable

One of the downsides of living in the DR is the unspoken, but quite common, anti-American sentiment that exists here. I am not sure if it is because the US invaded this country several times during the last century and has continued to meddle in their affairs, or possibly there is just a jealousy based on the poor level of income here, and consequently poor lifestyle, as compared to the US. Regardless of the cause, periodically I am exposed to this sentiment. Being a Poker player, I am often in one of the casinos here in Santiago. Now remember, regular inhabitants of any a casino anywhere in the world are not generally considered to be the cream of society. The casinos in the DR are no exception. Here, there are some people who virtually live in the casinos. The get their food, drinks, cigarettes and entertainment for free. I was told a long time ago that within a casino the most classless customers were found in the Poker section. While I hold some Poker player friends as some of my dearest acqquaintences, the truth is that all the angle shooters, lowlives, and small time crooks (and maybe some big timers) are found in the Poker section. From time to time I will experience some spoken resentment of the fact that I, an American, am a constant winner. I am not a great Poker player, however, I do understand the game. I understand the math and make better decisions than most other players and consequently I win probably 8 out of 10 times that I play. Really, I am not a great player, however, I have the necessary patience, I can figure probabilities, and I know how my opponents play. I play in the equivalent of a $3-6 No Limit Hold'em game.
Sometimes the anti-US feeling is expressed blatantly; a comment is made, a sign on a wall, etc. But sometimes the feelings are expressed in a much more subtle way. I have lived here for almost 10 years and in that time I think that I have every cable company on the island. There are some that have no reception when it rains. There are some that have no service when the power in the area goes out. The power goes out daily, no matter where you live. There are two that don't need rain or poweroutages to disrupt their service. I have been with Star Cable for more than a year. They offer three of the four major US networks (no CBS) and their service was reasonable in terms of reliability. It is only within the last 6 months that I started to notice their anti US sentiments. They fuck with the US stations anytime there is anything significant to be watched. Election results, Award shows, sporting events, whenever they feel that something may have a large US viewing audience they "lose service" or replace it either with a non stop advertisement for Dish Network or a channel that shows non stop infomercials. Sometimes it doesn't even have to be a program of significance. They will just put a Dominican league baseball game on instead of showing a US sporting event on one of the ESPN outlets that they carry. Of course, most of these problems occur either on the weekend or at night. In either case, the office is closed so their is no one to complain to. And if by some chance they do something like this during working hours, they just tell you that there is a problem and that their technicians are working to resolve it. Amazingly when the ball game is over the problem mysteriously disappears. Yesterday was the last straw. They fucked with the Super Bowl. I went absolutely bullshit because in years past they at least showed it on one of the ESPN spanish stations. This time,nothing. Just about 10 minutes after the game supposedly started, as I was dragging my ass out to look for someplace to watch the game, it magically came on. That however, was the last straw. FUCK STAR CABLE.
Played in the PokerStars Sunday Million and had plenty of time to get ready to see the game.

What you mean we, white man?

What you mean we, white man?

For those not old enough to remember The Lone Ranger and his Indian side kick Tonto: The Lone Ranger and Tonto are surrounded by hostile Indians and LR says,"Tonto, we are surrounded, what are we going to do?" Tonto looks at him and says, the title to this Post. Interestingly, tonto, in Spanish, means fool. HMMMMM!!!!


In my first post I mentioned that in the winter months we are sometimes forced to use two sheets on the bed. Who is this we? We are; myself, a soon to be 64 year old retired garment center executive and Massiel, a 24 year old Dominican girl, with whom I have lived for the past 3 1/2 years, and our two cats, QD and Harry. Massiel is my second Dominican wife in 8 years. I often refer to her as my "current" wife, but she is really going to be my last. We are expecting a baby in July and I plan on being around to help it grow up as best I can. Massiel is going to be an awesome mother, as long as she gets a little guidance, more from Dr. Spock than from me. I worked in the garment center for 30+years and decided in 1997 that I had had enough. Well, maybe, the business had had enough of me, I have never really been sure. But one way or the other I left the business. The business had changed so much that for me it had lost its appeal. A year or so later my best friend Sal I were talking about what I could do (I was working as a dealer at the Diamond Club, an underground Poker club in NYC at the time) to get back into the mainstream world. He was the head of production for a major T shirt company that I had worked for 3 times previously and his first instinct was to try to get me back into the company. I had left the company every other time that I had worked for them and couldn't see any reason why it would be any different the fourth time. Sal was living almost full time in the Dominican Republic. His company had started to produce most of their products there due to the enormous savings available in labor costs. Because he had made many connections, his suggestion of my moving down to the DR to act as a broker for companies wanting to sew in the DR and realize these same types of savings in their labor costs, it seemed like a good idea. In January of 1999 I went down to visit, liked what I saw and decided to move down as soon as my daughter went away to college (Rochester). My wife Number 2 in more ways than one) and I moved her up to school at the end of August and I left NewYork in September.

Hey Joel: How about a little Poker content.
O.K. I have an 11th place finish in the WSOP main event. I am the person who brought Hold'em to the Dominican Republic. I have worked as a supervisor at the WSOPand until its demise, I was the research editor for Poker Life Magazine. (Poker Life was an ill fated attempt to cash in on the Poker boom that started after Moneymaker won the WSOP in 2004.

That's right, Mike, I stole your layout

This is a blog started in desperation. Mike May, one of the wittiest (funniest just doesn't do him justice), has refused to update his blog for so many months now, leaving his 3 readers in limbo, that I finally felt driven to start my own blog. I do so not only in the hope of replacing that lost voice, but to also chronicle my adventures. My adventures are not contained in a blog called "

Mike May's Adventures In Probability Management

as Mike so modestly named his but rather, "Two sheets on a cold night"

Years ago the Manufacturers Hanover Bank put up a new building at the foot of the Battery and, knowing that in time a building would be put up behind it, the back of the building was solid brick. They put up a sign on this 25 story brick wall that was cleary visible from the BQE as well as visible to all boats entering the harbor. The sign said "NEW YORK IS NEW YORK IS THERE ANYWHERE ELSE. I moved to the Dominican Republic almost ten years ago, September7, 1999 to be exact, and up until the move I believed that with all my heart and soul. I was the ultimate NewYork City chauvinist.
One of my great pleasures these days when speaking to someone up north is to comment on how cold their weather and to mention that it has really been quite cold here in Santiago. I then add that it was so cold the previous night that we actually had to use two sheets. Hence the blog name.
Like Mike I am also a Poker player. More about that, later

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