High School Reunion

My 30th is coming up next year and I'm trying to get the wheels in motion to get something organized. So as I do google searches, send emails and make phone calls, I have to answer the question "Why would anyone want to go?"

That's the question, isn't it? Why go? For me, I have more good memories than bad but for many, High School was traumatic. And it was for as many reasons as there are people.

I came from a small school and there were only about 60 of us collected together, 5 days/week, 8 hours/day. Most of us didn't choose each other. We were thrown together based on where our parents lived. Teens seldom have much of an idea of who they are or how to relate to people. We ran on a mix of instinct and hormones while being put under pressure to learn Math and English and History. There were pressures of sports and pressures of dating and pressures at home and the biggest pressure of just trying to "fit in." That's quite a mix. It's going to be difficult. Can you hold somebody accountable for that? Blame them for it?

We all made our share of poor decisions that were in hindsight clearly "mistakes". We'd love to have a "do-over." Many of those mistakes were the sort you can't see. Some of those poor decisions hurt somebody. I doubt anyone makes it through school without getting hurt or hurting someone else.

So why would we want to revisit any of that?

Because the most incredible thing happened to us in those four years. We all hatched together. We got wrenched from childhood into a fairly hostile adolescence and then spit out towards as the adults we are today. The only people on this planet who were witnesses are your fellow classmates. The kids we went to school with were there when it was all happening. They were there when we were trying to figure out how to be a person in the world.

And every one of your classmates has a story. Aren't you curious about how those stories go? Haven't you seen the movies that wraps up the characters lives during the credits and wish you could get a wrap up of the characters in your life? It's so rare that we get a chance to find out what happened in real life and a reunion is a chance to get a bit of that perspective.

I'm not interested in judging anybody. Whether you were a missionary, a junkie, a soldier, a teacher, a mother, or a bum, or whether you have 10 kids or 3 marriages, I'm just curious about how you got there. If you are homeless or hopeless, I want to hear what happened. If you are a billionaire with a yacht and an island, I want to know your story. (and be your best friend!)

After 30 years, with sore knees, gray hair, fading eyesight, noisy joints, high cholestral, and surrounded by kids and co-workers who don't know us any other way, its good to be with people who remember when we were young. Who remember when we were walking, breathing sacks of dreams and potential.

And our memories, our past, is something worth keeping, in any form it takes, if for nothing else to help us to see who we are now.

Poker

It was too wet too hike today. No snow to ski on. Not my weekend with the kids. So with nothing to do I drove down to Blackhawk to play some poker. There was a tournament starting at noon so I paid $80 and took my seat.

I Love Poker.

I knew the general rules but never really played until about 3 years ago when a change in my marital status left me with more free time than I was used to. I started playing on the internet and immediately loved it. I'm not talking about the love of an addicted gambler looking to get rich. And I don't love it so much that I fantasize about quitting my job and turning pro. (I'm lying...I fantasize about it all of the time.) I just loved that it was so simple that anyone could learn it but so complex that you could never stop learning. I loved that online I was playing with people in Germany and Russia and Argentina and Australia. I loved that when I play live, I'm playing with a commodities trader from Chicago and a farmer from South Dakota and a Mary Kay rep from Florida, and a retired golf pro from Texas and a businessman from Korea.

And I didn't just enjoy it...I started to get...I don't want to say good at it, but I became competent at it. After a few months of playing, I turned and $11 entry fee into a $12,500 package at the World Series of Poker in Las Vegas. After playing against the real pros from all over the world in Vegas, you'll understand why I won't say I'm good at it....yet.

Today I started out between a truck driver with a pony tail to his waist and a cute little Asian girl who had to show her ID to prove she was old enough to play. I was trying out a new "lucky piece". A small white stone that I brought down from the top of Mt. Bedford this month. Most poker players have little luck tokens that they place on top of their cards. I've seen dinosaurs, rubber ducks, silver dollars, pictures of kids, etc. The truck driver had a little rubber brain with his name on it. I always start slow. Betting very conservative. Watching people. I spent the first hour winning a little and losing a little. Staying even.

I love the language of poker. Bad beats, pocket rockets, runner runner, trips, suck out, rivered a flush, put em in the air, flop a monster, donkey, maniac, ducks, sucker straight, drawing dead, open end, gut shot, the nuts, rags, big slick, big blind, check the turn. You can say, "I woke up to big slick on the button but foolishly limped. The flop gave me top pair and top kicker so I pushed but the donkey in the big blind called with a gut shot and and sucked out on the river." Fun, huh!? Say that to any poker player in the world and they'll know exactly what happened. It's like talking in code for a secret society.

After two hours at the tables today I loosened up and started chatting and joking a little more. I got away with a couple of bluffs and and built my stack from 8000 to 14,000. The girl and truck driver were both busted out.

I love the life lessons from poker. Be patient. Wait for your spot and act boldly. Act confident when you are weak. Bad beats happen. Don't dwell on them and move on. You can be dealt a great hand and play it stupidly and lose. You can be dealt rotten cards but play them brilliantly and win. Luck is a factor in life and poker. (both kinds) Every day you wake up, you get two new cards to play. Have the sense to fold when you are beat and save what you can to make a comeback on the next hand. Pay attention to signs and signals and learn to read what they are telling you.

After three hours I nearly busted out. I checked from the big blind with a 4 5 to a couple of limpers. The flop came J 5 5. I checked and the first bettor bet 2,000. The next bettor (the truck drivers wife) reraised to 6,000. I figured one of them had the jack and would call if I went all in so I pushed in 30,000. The first guy folded but the woman called and turned over A 5. I was screwed and started gathering my stuff to leave. A king came on the turn and then BOOM! 4 on the river to give me the boat. I was saved and just doubled up to become chip leader. But I felt too guilty to act happy and mumbled a sorry in her direction as I stacked my chips.

Chip leader is a great position to play from because you can start building your stack by bullying people. (another instance of poker imitating life I suppose) You can play with questionable cards and push people off their hands just by betting large. Your opponent has to go all in just to call your bet that is just 20% of your own stack. So I started making big bets and stealing blinds and busting people out. I got lucky a few times when my KQ hit against AJ or when I was dealt KK and a guy pushed with 88, and by 5:00 there were only 3 of us left. We were tired and roughly equal in chips so instead of playing to the end we decided to chop the pot and split the $2,400 remaining in the prize pool.

$80 to $800 in 5 hours. To celebrate, I drove down to Denver and took Samantha and her boyfriend out to dinner. (and slipped her $100) It wasn't a free meal for them though.

I made them listen to my poker stories!

Adventures...

... are fun and exciting and worth pursuing. But I've got a feeling they are even more fun and exciting when you are looking back on them.

I hitchhiked across the country in the 1983. 25 states, 2 months, 95 rides, $150. It was an adventure and I love remembering it and telling people I did it. It was exciting not knowing where I would sleep or what I would eat. My adreniline pumped everytime a car pulled over for me. Who would I meet? What was their story? Where were we going? I certainly don't regret doing it but I'm fully aware that the memories get better as the years pass.

What I usually leave out of my hitchhiking stories is the cold and the rain and the hunger and the fear and the wishing I was warm at home and that the adventure was just in my head. The same is true with the 14er's I climb. I recall the beauty and the accomplishment much easier than the sore knees and difficult breathing.

I suppose it's that selective memory that allows mankind to progress and discover. (or have more than one child!)

Here are a couple of my favorite quotes on the subject.

Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature. Life is either a grand adventure or nothing ....
Helen Keller

Remember the high board at the swimming pool? After days of looking up at it you finally climbed the wet steps to the platform. From there, it was higher than ever. There were only two ways down: the steps to defeat of the dive to victory. You stood on the edge, shivering in the hot sun, deathly afraid. At last you leaned too far forward, it was too late for retreat, and you dived. The high board was conquered, and you spent the rest of the day diving. Climbing a thousand high boards, we demolish fear, and turn into human beings.
Richard Bach A Gift of Wings

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
Mark Twain

Sail On!

Picture Time

Last month I hosted a family reunion. The good thing about volunteering to host is not having to travel and getting to sleep in your own bed. The down side is that there are lots of people in your home and there are certain pressures that come with it. Where will everyone sleep? What will they eat? How will I entertain them?

Fortunately, I come from a pretty low maintenance family and everyone seems to get along. No feuds that I'm aware of. So keeping everyone happy wasn't difficult. There was an early season snowfall (August 15!!) that canceled a hike but otherwise it was snafu-free. It had been several years since we had all been together so hiring a photographer for a group shot was a priority. The gathering has to be immortalized. Here are some shots from that afternoon.

I'm the good looking one.

14er's

There are 54 peaks in Colorado that are over 14,000 feet in elevation. I can't remember why I decided I was going to "collect" all of them. It's a very difficult hobby and every year they seem to get steeper. Geologists really need to look into why this is happening.

So far I've done 14 of them. Longs, Evans, Bierstadt, Grays, Torreys, Democrat, Linclon, Quandary, Sherman, Cameron, Bross, Elbert, Belford, and Oxford. I did the last two yesterday.

hiking boots, retractable hiking pole, long underwear, sunglasses, emergency poncho, knife, protein bars, jerky, camel pack, cell phone, camera, hiking socks, t-shirt, thermal cap, ball cap, hoody, water resistant jacket, gatorade, head lamp, running pants, water bottle, tissues, aspirin, bananas, gps, gum, energy gels, fruit leather, ipod, gloves, chap stick, sun block, whistle, air mattress, map, sleeping bag, matches, pillow, first aid kit.

That's not the stuff I brought. It's the stuff I was supposed to bring. I didn't plan on going until a few hours before I went so I was grateful I ended up with two thirds of it. Today I'm kinda wishing chapstick had been included in the inventory.

I slept at the trailhead in the mini van so I could get an early start and was on the trail by 6:00am. 11 miles, 6000 feet total elevation gain, 9 hours. This wasn't the hardest 14er I've done. That honor still goes to the 14 hours for Longs Peak. But this one was a psychological poke in the eye. Picture a capital M. You climb 4000 feet up to Belford, then descend 1000 feet and climb up another 1000 to Oxford. Mission accomplished, right? It should all be down hill from there. But there is only one way off these mountains and that is the exact same way you got there. I had to retrace my steps and go back to the top of Belford and down the original side. I will admit though, that I sat in the valley of the M for about 10 minutes and considered "bushwacking" my own trail straight down. I even headed down for a couple hundred feet (past 2 beautiful mountain goats!) before common sense over ruled my exhaustion. I could imagine myself trapped on a cliff face with no one knowing which way I'd gone.

So I went back up Belford slower than I'd ever climbed before. 30 steps, rest...20 steps, rest, curse...10 steps, rest, sit, curse...10 steps, rest, sit, curse, throw rock at stupid goats...8 steps, hug boulder during 40mph gust, curse...and so on.

I'm painting a grim picture of what was actually a beautiful day. Aside from the worst wind I've ever hiked in, the skies were clear and the the views spectacular. There is usually plenty of company on the 14er's on a weekend, but on Oxford I had the whole mountain to myself. I didn't plant a flag or anything, but for 20 minutes I laid on my back and considered it to be my mountain.

I posted the one picture of my old exhausted face on Oxford but if you really want to see what the views were, go to www.14ers.com and you will learn everything you never wanted to know about these stoney bad boys.

Forty more to go.

One More

OK, just one more post about Samantha and her shark phobia and I'll stop writing about her.

It really is a phobia. She's got enough courage that she'll still go into a fresh water lake, but while she's in the lake, she's resigned to the fact that a rogue shark has found it's way into America's interior and is hungrily swimming beneath her. She really does pull her feet up when a shark is on TV and she scans the pool before she jumps in.

So let me tell you what her dad made her do. We were in Puerto Vallarta for spring break and I convinced her to go snorkeling with me. I told her about the shark statisics and the rarity of attacks and that it's more likely she'd be struck by lightning. She said it wasn't just about the sharks but the fact that ocean was filled with all sorts of spooky creatures.

But she did it anyway. She put on the fins and the mask and went into the water with me and her brothers. The whole time she knew that monstrous creatures were beneath her wishing to do her harm. So although she'd go into the ocean she wasn't going to put her face in the water and watch them come after her. I convinced her that she was missing the whole point of snorkeling and that it was a beautiful world beneath the water. "Just one quick peak", I said. So she gathered a little more courage and lowered her face into the ocean.

Right into a jelly fish.

That stung her in the forehead.

Two years later, I still apologize.

Correction

Just like in the newspapers, if I need to correct any misinformation presented in a previous blog, I will do so. So consider this a correction... I was with Samantha this weekend and she corrected my story about my Gilligan's Island song. Not only was she not embarrassed that I sang to the crowd, she was actually proud that her Dad knew the words to the song. (children are easy to impress, apparently)The quality of my singing was another matter but she assures me that she was NOT mortified.

In fact her memories of my public singing debut were overshadowed by her own trauma from that day. After I brought attention to my family with my song, my adorable daughter was selected to participate in the show. The dolphin trainer selected her to jump on a dolphin as it swam by. The joke was that the trainer would never actually let the selected kid jump. Samantha remembers standing on the platform in front of the huge crowd. She remembers thinking that dolphins weren't the only creatures in the water because we had just seen the killer whale show. She remembers thinking that if killer whales were in the water, then there were probably sharks too.

She didn't jump.

But she still pulls her feet up on the couch whenever there is a shark on TV.