Friday, December 15, 2006

Join the blog parade



The comments are coming, the comments are coming! Well, from only one person, but that counts, right? I don't know if he's intentionally trying to prove my point or not, but so far Dave is epitomizing his role as "the contrarian of the group." He's the Javert to my Valjean, following my trail and systematically trying to destroy it. The Gerard to my Kimble. The Hedwig to my Tommy Gnosis. Yeah, I'll stick with that one. Dave's just like Hedwig.

In the immortal words of Priscilla in Not Another Teen Movie, "Oh it's already been brought-en." (I would've spelled it differently, but I don't argue with wikiquote.com.)

This is going to be a relatively short post since I'm only going to be a work for a few hours this morning. No tears though, gentle readers, for this is a happy occasion. Las Vegas, which translates to The Vegas, is a glorious place and will be a good home for me over the next two days. I feel like "Vegas, baby, Vegas" may be the most quoted movie line of the 90s. A lot of people would point to "Show me the money" as their frontrunner. Don't get me wrong, that's said an awful lot. But "V,b,V" is said not only by every single person going to Vegas, but probably said anywhere between 3 and 100 times. Like the humidity in Florida, it's the repetition that'll get ya every time. And the rhythm.

I realized after my post yesterday that talked about our grown-up Vegas trips that I still do two childish things there that probably still make people refer to me as a stupid, drunk kid. First, I have this special edition $5 chip from Imperial Palace. It has the former owner named Ralph on it. If the stories are true, this guy was a horrible person who even collected Nazi memorabilia. So while gambling at IP when Ralph still owned the joint, I used to stand that chip up so he was facing the dealer. "Do well," I'd warn them, "Ralph is watching you." This actually worked for the first few times, so a tradition was born and the legend grew. Now, regardless of the casino, I'll have Ralph with me, waiting in my pocket for me to call upon his power. I was once scoffed at by a dealer who insisted Ralph had no say over the cards. That led to the creation of a song:

"If you doubt the power of Ralph/You're gonna find yourself in a world of hurt."

Sure, it seems ridiculous, but when the tide turned and I started winning, those who had been nay-sayers at my table were suddenly asking to touch the chip, and some even started to sing along. I think it's safe to assume that they wanted to avoid the world of hurt at all costs, and can you blame them? Even though I think the Ralph chip is a true factor in the gambling world, I can understand if some would label that as immature or just plain stupid.

My other "stupid, drunk kid" thing also has a legendary track record. Some years back, I was bored at work and kept putting masking tape around the tip of my index finger. After some repositioning and stylistic changes, it looked like some kind of bandage. The divine inspiration hit: If I wear this on my finger yet still hit the table with that finger to take another card in blackjack, people won't know what to make of it. The dealer will inevitably think, "If that finger's injured, why does he keep hitting it on the table?" And that, my friends, would be my advantage over the dealers. How could they possibly draw to 21 when they're busy contemplating the status of my finger? Needless to say, it worked. Yes, again, people scoffed and asked what happened. My standard response became, "Actually, I'm not legally allowed to discuss it." That got in their heads even more! I'd move it around in a circle and say to the dealer, "It's the circle of life, Magdalena. Don't get caught up in the circle of life." Yes, I know, it's silly. But let me assure you that once again, after a few winning hands, the others at the table start doing the same circle motion they had just been mocking mere minutes earlier.

I learned a lesson as a child: "A dragon lives forever, but not so little boys." The constant stress on the tip of the "bandage" started to cause it to wear, and the inside got nastier every trip. So the sad day eventually came when I was forced to retire what I'd been calling FingerBanger. And introduce FingerBanger 2K4! This newer model blew the original one out of the water. I had steel enforced sides (more specifically, paperclip-enforced sides) and a folded up Post-It note buried at the tip for increased stability. So far the success of the original FB hasn't been replicated, but it's just a matter of time.

So, my grown up Vegas trip starts in a few hours. I'll be there with my buddies Dusty, Dave, Ralph, and FingerBanger 2K4. I'm pretty sure that's all I'll need.

(So much for the relatively short post...)

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