Thursday, May 14, 2009

Clubbing With Poker Wimps



"Is three of a kind better than two pair? "

I've been hearing those words spoken for about six years now and they still cause me to chuckle. I belong to the world's most pathetic poker club. Our club is called the Washademoak Intellectual Men's Poker Society (WIMPS) and never before has a title been so misleading with an acronym so overwhelmingly appropriate. Everyone in the society is over sixty, except me.

We don't drink, smoke or swear. We meet once a month and it's not on Friday night. We yawn a lot and someone inevitably starts whining when the games go beyond 11 p.m. Grandpa needs his rest! At least two thirds of our members think Cindy Day, the CTV meteorologist, makes her sweater sing (I'm in the minority). At least we're talking about women, I think. In hindsight, call it a purl of wisdom, perhaps they were actually admiring the tight knit of her sweater. I seriously think some of these guys might actually be into knitting.

Of all the members, I'm the only one who's fully employed. When I say employed, I mean consumed by my profession. Let me give you an example of what my day as a leisurologist looks like:

6 a.m. - get up

6:30 a.m. - eat the breakfast of Champions

7 a.m. - 9 a.m. - write the blog

9 a.m. - golf with the WIMPS

12 noon - lunch with the WIMPS

1 p.m. - answer fan mail (respond defiantly to hate mail, death threats, spam, Viagra offers)

2 p.m. - go windsurfing

6 p.m. - cocktails and supper

8 p.m - ping pong tournament against the Sopranos (we have a mob of singers here currently)

10:30 p.m.- tackle the Globe & Mail's cryptic crossword

10:45 p.m. - enjoy quality time with my honey (I just got some new jars from our local apiary and I just I just love it.)

10:46 p.m. - lights out.

You're reading my schedule and thinking, WOW! How does he do it? I could never do that! Most people aren't cut out to sustain the leisurologist's lifestyle...it's grueling. Like a yoga master, I've spent years training my body so I'm able to sustain the pace. Om. Every now and then I'll take some paying work just to give my body a rest.

This month the WIMPS have decided to give poker a rest in lieu of golf. I fully expect that we'll play golf with the same level of skill that we play poker.

"The ball went in that hole by the stick with the flag with the number on it, now what do I do?"

"Write 13 in your score card and move to the next hole. By the way, that's not your ball, that's mine.

I'll encourage them to cheat on their scorecards. They don't cheat at poker, so it's not going to be easy to turn them into real golfers. I'm sure that we'll have a great day and I have no doubt that we'll talk about the great Day while we're out on the links. The weather looks perfect this morning for golf, but I didn't watch the weather forecast on television last evening. Rest assured that two thirds of them did.

P.S. The picture above was taken during a humid evening of card playing in Maui (I lost my shirt to my honey!). I mention this because I don't want rumours to circulate that I play topless poker with a bunch of sixty-year-old men!

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