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Victory: Defeat
Jul. 6th, 2007 04:01 pmPolitics is the art of compromise.
Who said that? No-one, and everyone. It's one of those well-known phrases and sayings that doesn't seem to have a definite original source.
But, I digress. Life, like politics, is the art of compromise. Despite what some self-help books might claim, you cannot have it all. I was thinking of this with Andy's WSOP performance in Vegas. I am really pleased for him, as I sit at my desk job, playing a little low-level no-limit hold'em in the evening, and heading off to bed early, alone, "because I have to be up early in the morning".
But victory and defeat are harder to define than that. While I might envy the people with happy families (or, in some cases, apparently happy families), I know that the fathers in those households sometimes look on me with envy. And, when it came to the crunch, I suspect that neither of us would swap.
But, well, even if I would (or even if the guy was in an unhappy marriage, and he would), that doesn't make him or me a loser. For me, simply (and quite literally), being alive is a victory. Being solvent is just icing on the cake. For those benefits, I have to pay a price. That's the way economics works. I can't risk a "lively" lifestyle. That way lies danger. Routine for me is good, and necessary.
There was a lovely line in "Sensitive Skin" a few weeks ago, where a woman more used to taxis finds herself sitting on the top of a bus. Before getting off, she mutters something about "I don't want to share my transport with middle-aged men trying to work out ways to top themselves". An astute observation.
A large number of middle-aged men do feel like that. It's probably a hard-wired part of the alpha-male "a few winners, a lot of losers", hind-brain animal kingdom part of us.
But it doesn't have to be like that. We are humans. We didn't rise to the top of the food chain just to envy jocks that could pick up women in bars. Everything has positive aspects and it's pointless envying what other people have that you do not, because if you had what they had, the chances are that you would have to give up something else.
Fame, for example, might get you into Grouchos', but it also gets you approached by idiots in the supermarket, saying "it's you, isn't it?" (surely the most self-evdently true question in the history of mankind).
A big house/apartment is nice, but the work and cost of upkeeping is a downside.
Many compulsive gamblers want to lose all their money because, with money, comes responsibility and choice. Choice, although seen as a positive, pushes not a few people into paroxysms of panic. Having everything set down is far more relaxing. So, one way to eliminate choice is to throw away all your money. At least, that's the warped line of thought that compulsive gamblers go through.
I'm getting less sympathetic as I grow older for alcoholics/compulsive gamblers/drug addicts. Yes, it's tough to beat, but it's not impossible. You can choose your metagame path of life, and it might not be a land of milk and honey at the end, but it's no use whinging that "oh, it's all horrible, and none of it's my fault".
So, would I swap places with Andy? No. Would he swap places with me? No. In fact, would I swap places with anyone? I don't think so, not if that which was me remained me. I would become an even squarer peg in an even rounder hole.
+++++
On less deep self-reflective matters (the above wasn't a downbeat post, by the way; it was a positive attitude to life, being "motivated" as it were, by both the postive and negative commentators on my life and the way it is at the moment) I've suffered a couple of those "nothing will go right" days, but I kept my nerve and made something of a recovery this afternoon. I played last night when I was definitely too tired (I had been to the opening of the offices of an insurance company on Fenchurch Street at Plantation House. If you want to live well, work in new offices in the city. Do not work in publishing....) and it showed. But I suspect that, when sets are continually getting beaten, you are going to lose. Set over set on the flop is definitely a no-escape route.
I felt better this afternoon, and that showed as well. Very satisfying.
Party has a deposit bonus running, but I recall that it required something like 3,000 hands in seven days to clear (and it's an all-or-nothing bonus to boot) so I may just take up $50 of it rather than go for the full $100. Party is run by total cnuts anyway, so I'm half-tempted to completely ignore it and trundle on at NoIQ and Full Tilt. However, I do seem to do better when I shift to a site at which I haven't played for a month or so. This is probably because my opponents haven't yet got any kind of handle on me, and my style is not naturally ABC-ish, although my figures look ABC-ish (17%/12% for full ring, in case you are curious, with aggression factors (PF/Flop/Turn/River) of 1.6, 4.2, 2.7 and 1.3). I'm winning 38% of flops seen and 54% of showdowns. I go to showdown when I've seen the flop 22% of the time.
PJ
Who said that? No-one, and everyone. It's one of those well-known phrases and sayings that doesn't seem to have a definite original source.
But, I digress. Life, like politics, is the art of compromise. Despite what some self-help books might claim, you cannot have it all. I was thinking of this with Andy's WSOP performance in Vegas. I am really pleased for him, as I sit at my desk job, playing a little low-level no-limit hold'em in the evening, and heading off to bed early, alone, "because I have to be up early in the morning".
But victory and defeat are harder to define than that. While I might envy the people with happy families (or, in some cases, apparently happy families), I know that the fathers in those households sometimes look on me with envy. And, when it came to the crunch, I suspect that neither of us would swap.
But, well, even if I would (or even if the guy was in an unhappy marriage, and he would), that doesn't make him or me a loser. For me, simply (and quite literally), being alive is a victory. Being solvent is just icing on the cake. For those benefits, I have to pay a price. That's the way economics works. I can't risk a "lively" lifestyle. That way lies danger. Routine for me is good, and necessary.
There was a lovely line in "Sensitive Skin" a few weeks ago, where a woman more used to taxis finds herself sitting on the top of a bus. Before getting off, she mutters something about "I don't want to share my transport with middle-aged men trying to work out ways to top themselves". An astute observation.
A large number of middle-aged men do feel like that. It's probably a hard-wired part of the alpha-male "a few winners, a lot of losers", hind-brain animal kingdom part of us.
But it doesn't have to be like that. We are humans. We didn't rise to the top of the food chain just to envy jocks that could pick up women in bars. Everything has positive aspects and it's pointless envying what other people have that you do not, because if you had what they had, the chances are that you would have to give up something else.
Fame, for example, might get you into Grouchos', but it also gets you approached by idiots in the supermarket, saying "it's you, isn't it?" (surely the most self-evdently true question in the history of mankind).
A big house/apartment is nice, but the work and cost of upkeeping is a downside.
Many compulsive gamblers want to lose all their money because, with money, comes responsibility and choice. Choice, although seen as a positive, pushes not a few people into paroxysms of panic. Having everything set down is far more relaxing. So, one way to eliminate choice is to throw away all your money. At least, that's the warped line of thought that compulsive gamblers go through.
I'm getting less sympathetic as I grow older for alcoholics/compulsive gamblers/drug addicts. Yes, it's tough to beat, but it's not impossible. You can choose your metagame path of life, and it might not be a land of milk and honey at the end, but it's no use whinging that "oh, it's all horrible, and none of it's my fault".
So, would I swap places with Andy? No. Would he swap places with me? No. In fact, would I swap places with anyone? I don't think so, not if that which was me remained me. I would become an even squarer peg in an even rounder hole.
+++++
On less deep self-reflective matters (the above wasn't a downbeat post, by the way; it was a positive attitude to life, being "motivated" as it were, by both the postive and negative commentators on my life and the way it is at the moment) I've suffered a couple of those "nothing will go right" days, but I kept my nerve and made something of a recovery this afternoon. I played last night when I was definitely too tired (I had been to the opening of the offices of an insurance company on Fenchurch Street at Plantation House. If you want to live well, work in new offices in the city. Do not work in publishing....) and it showed. But I suspect that, when sets are continually getting beaten, you are going to lose. Set over set on the flop is definitely a no-escape route.
I felt better this afternoon, and that showed as well. Very satisfying.
Party has a deposit bonus running, but I recall that it required something like 3,000 hands in seven days to clear (and it's an all-or-nothing bonus to boot) so I may just take up $50 of it rather than go for the full $100. Party is run by total cnuts anyway, so I'm half-tempted to completely ignore it and trundle on at NoIQ and Full Tilt. However, I do seem to do better when I shift to a site at which I haven't played for a month or so. This is probably because my opponents haven't yet got any kind of handle on me, and my style is not naturally ABC-ish, although my figures look ABC-ish (17%/12% for full ring, in case you are curious, with aggression factors (PF/Flop/Turn/River) of 1.6, 4.2, 2.7 and 1.3). I'm winning 38% of flops seen and 54% of showdowns. I go to showdown when I've seen the flop 22% of the time.
PJ
