On Gambling

I told some people I was headed to Shreveport in a few weeks to visit my friend Amy Dodson Mata. One person said, "Ooooh, they have gambling boats there!" Always a draw for most folks.

I have to say, though, that I'm not a big gambler. You can tell if you know me -- I got married for the first time at age 31. I’d had opportunities to take the plunge earlier in my dating career but wasn't brave enough. (Stories on request.)

Not that marrying CRM wasn't a perceived risk, with his "interesting" marital history, but I was pretty sure that the previous ones had worn him out. It was like the faster cheetahs had chased the gazelle for miles and miles across the savannah, nipped at him and caused some light bleeding, and I just laid low in the brush until he ran out of steam, then nabbed him. He's too tired and wounded now to get up and run again. He ain't going anywhere.

But I digress.

Gambling. Once Amy (my sister) and I went to New Orleans for Mother's Day. We went to the gambling boat and she showed me how to play the slot machines. We drank numerous "free" bloody marys, which are a vegetable, by the way. I ended up losing $31 during a long afternoon of putting quarters in machines, getting some out and putting them back in. If you totaled the cost of the drinks, it was probably a wash. But I grieved over that $31 as though it were a lost child.

Understand I walked out of the casino and went directly to Jackson Square, where I paid $45, plus a tip, to a FORTUNE TELLER. She told me all kinds of things that made sense at the time (remember I’d had x number of bloody marys) and that I don’t remember any more, but hey, value perceived.

When I put quarters in a machine, though, I want something to come out of the bottom of it. Every time. A Sprite. A Butterfinger. Not Nothing.

Now, PAULA can gamble. Heavens. I’ve seen her play the dollar slots in Vegas all evening long, coming back up to the hospitality room now and then with cash stuffed into her bra. She’d down a few more glasses of merlot, and head back down. Would say, “Don’t tell Averyt I won money,” over her shoulder. That’s why Chuck calls her Fish.

Hilarious Website

Just found something screamingly funny. Torsopants.com

Go check it out and buy a t-shirt. I think I'll be doing my Christmas shopping there, and my nephew Steve Murphy will receive the one that says, "My Native American name is Steve." He lives in New Mexico. Hope he doesn't get beat up.

I'm looking for new endings to this phrase . . .

That which does not kill you . . .

the original ending is "makes you stronger," but I'm looking for others. So far I've thought of

"really pisses you off."
and
"will still cost you a lot of money."

Others? Need some creativity here . . .

My Hair is Amazing!

I have curly dark brown,almost black, hair, shot with grey. It is now growing straight up into a post-modern pompadour, and I look kind of like Frankie Avalon in the original Beach Party movie. I have an appointment with the hair salon on Tuesday evening, and I'm not sure that she'll cut it or "shape" it, as one would topiary. It is a scream.

And it's springtime in Texas, a beautiful Saturday morning. Chuck and Peg and I went to dinner in the 'hood last night. Sat outside at Tila's and enjoyed the noise of Shepherd Drive. Then the three of us went dog-walking -- make that four, counting the dog. This morning is just brilliant, very cool and breezy. High only in the 70s today and in the 40s tonight. We consider that free air conditioning and are glad to have a few more nights of it before serious summer sets in.

We're doing ok. My job is extremely challenging but I'm up to it, I think. My priority HAS to be getting people hired for my internal communications position, and I'm too mired down in the details to write the darn job description, let alone the communications plans. I've asked MJ Mudd to help and spent yesterday with her, working on plans and ideas. She's great.

More soon. I promise.