June 2005 Archives

Where have I gone wrong? I was doing so well a few months ago playing online and then "poof." I'm still up, but I've been crushed. My stake is no longer an impressive multiple of the original buy-in.

Why? Well, I could be a conspiracy theorist and wonder if pokerstars has decided to stack the deck against me. I read things like that all the time. I don't believe the theories, but I read them.

The answer is much simpler - I'm not playing as well.

I still haven't quite figured out what I'm doing wrong, but I am trying to see where I've changed. I have also dropped down in class, playing at cheaper tables with the hope the competition is weaker and where I can stretch my money. After all, winning at lower stakes is much better than losing where the potential is high.

Meanwhile, as I often do, I have been playing on the computer and watching the World Series of Poker on TV. They're replaying the 2004 tournament on ESPN this week.

Surprisingly enough, when they got to the final table's telecast (at 2:00 AM EDT) instead of playing it back as it aired, a commentary by Greg Raymer was added. Raymer, from Southeastern Connecticut, won the 2004 WSOP and helped lower my taxes by bringing home $5,000,000.

I had seen him interviewed in the past, but only briefly - only in sound bites. This time he's sitting in front of a TV, probably giving his commentary while watching a playback.

It's incredibly interesting to watch and hear and he's very impressive. He's not a showboat, not a comic, but a very smart guy who understands the game at a mathematical level I'll never reach. He's soft spoken and classy - a radical change from 2003's winner.

Make no mistake about it, he was lucky a few times on the way to his win. But, over time, a player is much more likely to fail because of luck than succeed.

There's a big article splashed on the New York Times front page concerning Tom Cruise and what has been perceived as strange behavior. I didn't see the behavior - I don't know.

There's talk about how this might affect the filming of Mission Impossible III and the opening of War Of The Worlds in a few weeks.

Is everything OK? Are there problems? Officially everyone says it's OK, but I was struck by this quote from the Times article:

Enough promotion already? Please! Let me put this down with, "left to spend more time with his family," or "pursue other career opportunities," or "settled without admitting guilt."

Something doesn't smell right... and with this much Hollywood money at stake, something's surely gone wrong. After all, these are people would greenlight Hitler's new screenplay if it promised to open big.

I was just on the Washington Post site, looking for more on the Watergate story. I am of an age where this was a critically important story. The Vietnam war was raging. I perceived President Nixon as a threat to the 22 year old me - whether that's defensible or not at this point.

Even today, 30+ years after the fact, I want more on this story.

The Washington Post website had a 3:02 video interview with Bob Woodward. Below the video were their credits - 2 shooters and an editor. The Post had their own reporter interviewing Woodward. I'm not sure whether he was a dedicated video reporter or someone from the print side.

The video was preceded by a commercial. It was a :15 for Microsoft.

They - newspapers - want to get into my business. And why not? They already have the reporting staff. When the news product is delivered request-reply, making every story compelling and entertaining enough for someone in Seymour to care about Stonington, isn't necessary.

This is depressing.

Newspapers are struggling. Their circulation has generally trended down. They need to sustain revenue and maximize their resources.

TV doesn't get a free pass either. Cable channels and even the micro networks take some small audience - audience that once was defaulted to us - and there are dozens, maybe hundreds, of these tiny digital niche networks.

Will this bring on the next Golden Age of video? Will we see more quality or quantity or both? Who knows? It will definitely be different than what we're seeing now.

Whatever it is that finally sits in TV's current place in society will be more sharply targeted and the content more responsive to the needs of the people watching. Budgets will probably be lower, because niche audiences won't be able to support higher.

Technology has already started to bring down the cost of TV production. It is easier and cheaper today than ever before to put something together and make it available to an audience. That trend isn't over yet.

My friend Wendie is in China on business. She has been sending emails to a group of people, emails I'll continue to compile and then host when she returns.

She doesn't think there's anything special in the writing. Maybe so. Maybe I'm more impressed that I get to hear what's going on in nearly real time.

Tonight, after getting an email, I quickly replied and said I was on Instant Messenger. She had no IM client on the laptop she was using (and, it being a work laptop, couldn't install one). I suggested AIM Express.

I'm not sure how I found out about this little program, but it allows you to use AOL Instant Messenger from any computer, just by using your web browser. Ingenious.

A few seconds later, Wendie was on live from Beijing.

It's not like there was earth shattering news to discuss. She told me how polluted and dirty Beijing is and some of the things that were going on. I told her how a hillside in Laguna Beach, CA gave way this morning.

We didn't chat long, but it was one of those high tech moments when the world seems a little smaller.

I'm naive here, aren't I? This technology is used by others in just this way, every single day.

I'm sure there are students at Yale, just down the street from where I work, having Instant Messenger conversations back to Asia (or wherever) every hour of every day. To them it's commonplace. To me it's cool and new.

You've got to keep up with this technology or be swept under by others who do.

Before I went to bed, I could sense some swelling in my mouth on the upper left side. I woke up this morning after just a few hours sleep with it very tender and obviously swollen.

My main dentist¹ (who was in his office on his day off) saw me this morning, briefly. It was enough time for an x-ray and an opinion. Two teeth will have to go because of a periodontal abscess.

Great.

My second session is set for 3:30 this afternoon at the periodontist. No one is more thrilled than I!

¹ - When you have more than one dentist, you know you're coming to the plate with an 0-2 count before the first pitch.

Three injections and some wicked scraping and I am temporarily repaired. I return Tuesday for more thorough punishment.

At the moment, my mouth is still sore. I suggested to Helaine we have dinner at International House of Pudding.

When I saw the periodontist this afternoon, both he and I assumed what he had done would get me out of pain. For a while (after the injections wore off) everything was basically as it had been. Then, it started to get worse.

I'm blogging now because I know trying to go to sleep would be futile.

Through the evening I used Advil and ice. An icepack is very under rated and usually works well to deaden an area. My pain has broken through the ice.

At about 1:00 AM, Helaine and I went scrounging to see if there was anything in our stash of medication that might work. I found some Tylenol with Codeine (at least its generic equivalent) and took one. Though two and a half years old, I had hope. And, amaziingly, it had been prescribed for dental pain.

The pills worked for a few hours, but here we are approaching 4:00 AM and I'm just not in a good way. It's much too soon to take any more. I've left a message on their answering machine, hoping to get a callback when they open at 8:00 AM.

I am paying now for the sins I committed when I was a kid. Ouch.

I was only able to get 3-4 hours of sleep through Friday morning. I woke up in lots of pain. What ever was going on in my tooth was getting worse and it wanted me to know it.

I had taken codeine twice in the preceding 9 hours, so along with the pain I was woozy - unable to muster all my thought processes at the same time. I was a mess. I was shuffling, not walking, not lifting my feet very far off the carpet.

Iris, the receptionist (retiring today) picked up the phone at the periodontist's office. She could get me in at 11:15. I thought to myself how I didn't want to wait three hours, but knew I'd have to.

I got back into bed and closed my eyes.

This was a different kind of pain than a headache or bruise. It was an all encompassing pain. Yes, it emanated from my tooth and gum but it was more powerful than anything else I had going. I was in no position to reason. All I could think about was the pain - and that it was still there.

It wasn't long before Helaine was in the bedroom. Iris had called back. Could I get there now?

I don't remember much about the trip there but I do remember the periodontist telling me it didn't look good. I haven't gone to dental school, but I knew that already.

We talked about the tooth, the prospect of root canal and crown and then it would probably only be useful for a few years before it had to come out anyway. The second option was extraction - and that's what he did¹.

By the time I got home, the shots were wearing off and the pain was ramping up again. I took another codeine laced Tylenol and headed to bed. By later this afternoon the pain had mostly subsided, except my gum feels swollen and hurts if touched. That's probably from the injections.

Over this weekend, I should start to feel as I did before this episode. The gum will come down and, hopefully, I'll get this cream cheesy feeling out of my head.

When I was a kid, codeine was sold over-the-counter with a prescription. What were they thinking?

Right now my thought process is somewhat akin to thinking through gauze.

¹ - The tooth itself is in my shirt pocket as I type this entry.

First things first. My tooth pain has greatly subsided. There's still swelling on the gum, but I'm hoping that's from the injections. The tooth is in my drawer, where it now belongs.

Let me add, though I took a sick day from work Thursday, Friday was already scheduled as a vacation day. Bad timing on my part.

We once had an employee at the station who tried to explain to my boss that since she was sick on her vacation day, it should count as a sick day. That's chutzpah.

I was well enough to head to the shoreline for a planned family celebration. I've been told to keep my mouth shut on what was being celebrated, but we went to Lenny's in Branford.

I was petrified to go! I'd run into Lenny's daughter while having my hair cut and she told me how the place had been remodeled. Didn't she understand? The charm of Lenny's was that it looked like it was built out of whatever was stored in someone's garage.

I'm glad to say the main dining room has been remodeled... the particle board removed from the walls... but it's lost none of its charm. That's a tall order. It looks nice - really, not just compared to its older self.

We weren't going to Lenny's for the ambiance. We were going for fried shrimp for the girls and the shore dinner for me.

Even with only one half of my mouth operating, it was great! The lobster, the mussels, the corn - excellent. Why you only get two clams is beyond me, but that 's what the dinner calls for. My only 'customization' was getting a bowl of Rhode Island clam chowder¹ instead of a cup.

Through dinner and the rest of the evening I was a little woozy. It wasn't enough to stop me, but I certainly was in no condition to operate heavy equipment. Helaine drove and I was grateful to be her passenger.

When we got home, I napped. I couldn't sleep all night because there was a test to be taken for my Oceanography class.

I took the test around 3:00 AM. This should be an interesting grade because I wasn't really able to concentrate on reading the text necessary to answer the questions. I had the attention span of a toy poodle.

Back to bed at 4:00.

By the time I woke up this morning, I had gotten over 16 hours of sleep in the last 24. On the other hand, I was feeling better, which was good because I had long standing plans for a friend to visit.

I've known Bob since my first professional day in radio, early fall 1969. Bob was a disk jockey at WSAR in Fall River, MA, where I started.

When I first me him he was Skippy Ross, then Skip Tyler, now (for over thirty years) Bob Lacey. With his partner Sheri Lynch, Bob presides over a very successful, syndicated morning radio show. It's a show considered 'woman friendly.'

Bob had left Charlotte, NC Thursday afternoon and had been hanging around New England since Thursday evening. Though I'd tried getting him on his cell phone a few times, he was unreachable.

By early this morning there was a discussion whether Bob was actually going to show or not. It was starting to look like 'not' had won when the phone rang.

He showed up an hour later and we hopped in the convertible on what had turned into a spectacular spring day. The sky was blue, temperature warm, humidity about right. We were heading toward the shoreline.

Bob had actually grown up around New Haven and knows those parts of the area that haven't changed over the last 40 years - which is most of it!

First stop was lunch. We went to a place call "The Place" in Guilford. "The Place" is one of a kind.

You sit outside (in the open or under a tent-like cover) on old tree stumps. The food (lobster, clams, chicken and the like) are cooked out of door on a long wood fired grill. When your order is ready, the grill it cooked on is brought to your table.

The owner, Vaughn, kvetched about the weather. I would think to a place like this good weather means good business and a May like we had means... well, it wasn't a good sign.

Bob had a lobster and I had clams. I'm sorry to be positive about everything, but it was great.

Next up we drove down the Turnpike into Old Lyme and then headed randomly into an area called "Miami Beach." We drove down Hartford Avenue and I was astounded - 21 years in Connecticut and I'd never been to this cool, vest pocket, beach community.

A friendly cop showed us where we could park and we were off. This is a really nice beach. As Connecticut's Long Island Sound beaches go, it is broad and white. There are plenty of stones which makes barefoot walking a little tougher.

Of course Bob and I were dressed totally wrong for a day at the beach - both wearing long pants.

We moved off the beach itself and into an open air beachfront bar. Bob had a beer and I a Diet Coke ($5+$2 tip). Reggae music was wafting in and it was perfect on this idyllic day.

Like "The Place," I have to wonder how open air establishments like this make it in the ratified air of a short season Connecticut summer, and with total dependence on good weather. Every season has got to be make or break. I thought about that as I sipped my Coke.

We didn't have long. Bob had dinner plans with some friends he's known longer than me. We continued east to Mohegan Sun, the closer of the two Connecticut mega casinos.

Bob was stunned. It is a very impressive place. And, the shopping area with its upscale shops connecting the old and new casinos is elegantly glitzy.

Bob wanted to play craps, though he hadn't played in years. I pulled $60 out of my pocket and quickly turned it into $15 - good going. Bob had similar luck, but on a lesser scale.

We headed for the car and headed back home.

Bob will be back in Connecticut in the middle of August. We're hoping to see the Red Sox and visit WSAR's studio. Truth is, hanging with a friend is the important part. The rest is just icing on the cake.

¹ - I had never heard of Rhode Island clam chowder until I moved to Connecticut. Manhattan is red, New England is creamy and Rhode Island is a clear broth. When properly spiced, it's great and nowhere as heavy as New England. As for Manhattan clam chowder - please! Who's eating that?

Every once in a while I appear on a radio show. That's always enjoyable. My roots, rotted as they are, are in radio.

Monday morning, however, will be different. Monday I'll be on the radio as a sub as opposed to a guest. I'll be attempting to do what Ray Dunaway does on WTIC.

Among the guests booked for the show are Senator Joe Lieberman, Attorney Gerry Spence (he's the homespun guy from Wyoming who wear a suede leather vest all the time) and Barbara Walters (not yet confirmed).

I know I'm a weatherman, but I don't want to be a pushover to those who are used to answering tough questions and have perfect the dart and weave.

I won't be alone. I'll be co-hosting with Ray's regular co-host, Diane Smith.

I've known Diane since I came to Connecticut. Before radio, she was an anchor with us on the TV station. I have referred to her, with reverence, as the Ambassador from Gracious Living and our Ambassador to Fairfield County. Take your pick.

Diane is classy everywhere I'm crude - which is nearly everywhere.

Doing this early morning show; being at the radio station before 6:00 AM is actually better and easier than going somewhere for the midday shift. I know I can be home by 11:00 and catch a nap before my real work begins.

Radio's in my blood.

A while back when the Discovery Mars rover got stuck in a sand dune I assumed the worst. Hey, it's gone on much longer than anyone thought. The rover owes us nothing.

Tonight, thought it's not on the NASA site yet, it seems the rover has worked its way free, spinning its wheels and advancing inches at a time.

Another reason to specify robots for your next space exploration.

Blogger's note: The NASA site is also showing some pretty cool photos of 'dust devils' on the Martian surface, as photographed by the Spirit rover.

Here it is 3:05 AM. My alarm is set for 4:15. I've gotten about 1:30 sleep.

It's going to be a very long day.

I get to go on the radio often enough so it's a treat - seldom enough that it's not a pain in the ass. This was my morning to sit in with Diane Smith on WTIC.

I've known Diane since I came to Connecticut. She used to report and anchor at our TV station. That she's not still there is a major shame - but I think she's happy in radio, where she's half the morning team on WTIC.

WTIC is one of the last of the blowtorch 50,000 watt AM stations. It is an AM station that still has an audience. That's a rarity all by itself.

There was a time, not too long ago, when WTIC had the highest rated morning show in the country with Bob Steele. The show itself was an anachronism - something that could never be restarted today. But, Bob had the most important ingredient for a successful morning show - longevity!

My alarm was set for 4:15, but as I wrote in an earlier post, I couldn't sleep. By 4:45 I was out of the house and on my way to Farmington.

Any time I've gone online for directions to WTIC I'm give a route through the next town to my north. It's a trip full of stop lights and traffic. But at this time of day... well, I just headed north.

The first Dunkin' Donuts was closed, but as I approached a second I could see lights on and cars in the lot. I parked, got out, and found the door locked. The folks sitting there in their cars knew what I'd find, but kept their silence. I don't quite get that.

I didn't think I had time to wait, so I headed north again.

A few minutes later I drove by a health club - also not open and with cars in the lot. This time there were people standing in front of the entrance. Just standing there, aimlessly, at 4:55 AM.

I guess it's wonderful when people want to exercise and be healthy and fit. Waking up before 5:00 to do that seems troublesome... and then to be kept waiting. Isn't that just a little cruel?

WTIC is in a low rise brick building in an office park in Farmington, not far from Robertson Airport. The building itself is the poster child for nondescript. There's nothing that sets this building apart. It's not pretty. It's not ugly. It's just sort of there.

WTIC is part of Infinity's group of stations in Hartford. They're all clustered together on the ground floor.

The WTIC studio is quite functional and very nice. Diane sat behind the console, where her partner normally sits and I sat facing her. Along the edge of the studio were microphones and room for more guests to sit in.

Off to the side, and behind, are other control rooms used for production and news. The place was pretty busy Monday morning.

Being an old line AM radio station there's plenty of service in the morning. The station features a full newsroom - a real newsroom staffed by actual adults! Wow! There just aren't too many of those left (Newsrooms that is - there are plenty of adults). Our show also had a sports reporter and meteorologist.

I knew most of the people there, though not that well. Everyone was friendly. Everyone was nice. Everyone on our show was a pro who could easily move to a larger market, if they could find a station that still had news and service features.

If there's one problem with the morning show, it's that there's too much service!

Between news, sports, traffic, weather and commercials, Diane and I were hardly on for the first few hours. Even when we did appear, it was a disjointed few minutes of banter before... more news, weather, sports and commercials.

There were a few interviews planned. The one I was looking forward to the most was with Senator Joe Lieberman. The New London Sub Base has been slated for closing and there was lots to talk about.

Interviewing newsmakers on real subjects is something I seldom get to do at the TV station. It was a welcome change and I wonder how Senator Lieberman felt, since he mostly knows me as the somewhat hyper, off center, weatherman?

It was really a lot of fun. Television is a much more powerful medium than radio, but on the radio you have the freedom to speak your mind. I tried to be careful and not to be a partisan, but there's a lot more I can say - and I did.

10:00 AM came much too soon.

I went around and said goodbye and tried to plant the seed that next time, maybe I could fill in on WTIC FM. I was looking for that one more chance to be a 'jock' like I was 25 years ago.

I was sent to do the weather from Lighthouse Park Tuesday evening. It was pretty run-of-the-mill stuff. I found some cute kids, a dog, a motorcycle... and blessed my lucky stars that on a hot and sweaty day my boss sent me to the beach.

Not bad!

While there I saw something that I'd never seen before. My first clue was a huge airfoil kite flying over the water's edge. When I followed the lines, they led to a man in a wet suit.

Before long he walked into the water carrying what looked like a cross between a surfboard and slalom water ski. Within seconds, he was up on the board, skiing like a water skier, but being propelled by the kite.

I'm attaching pictures, but I sense they won't do this sport justice.

The skier was Tsachik Gelander, an Assistant Professor of Math at Yale. As I found out from speaking to his wife, they are from Israel. Maybe this is common on Israeli beaches, but not here.

The most spectacular feat came when he got up enough speed to leap out of the water. It seemed he was at least 10-15 feet above the water's surface, still being pulled by the kite.

This is not for the squeamish or weak of heart. You've got to control the kite, lest the kite take you airborne. Though you're strapped in and along for the ride, it looks like it takes substantial upper body strength to properly translate the kite's motion in the way you wish, and strong legs to keep the board on track as you twist and turn along.

The photos were taken on a day without much strong wind. Just imagine how much more he might fly.

How do you know if you've broken your toe?

After I slammed mine into the side of the bathroom cabinet¹, I started writhing on the floor in pain. That seems to be sign number one.

Swelling, which began almost immediately, is probably sign two.

To me, the clincher was when Helaine asked me to look at the toes in question. Instead of being parallel, they were making a "V". It looked something like the intersection of Broadway and 7th Avenue in Times Square.

I pushed the toes back together with the 'pinky' toe making a snap sound as it went back into place.

They are currently taped together. It is my understanding toes don't get professionally set after they break. Tonight, I am the physician pro se.

¹ - This cabinet has been in our bathroom for 15 years. I should know where it is. If asked, I will claim to my dying day, it jumped out at me.

Blogger's note: This morning, while at the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation kickoff breakfast, Steve the doctor called. He was looking for computer tech support... and I asked about my toe. Maybe it's not broken after all. Possibly it was only dislocated. It still hurts like crazy. Not my week for pain.

Stefanie graduates from high school tomorrow. I can't believe that. She should be in a 'onesey' with baby powder flying. It has happened too quickly.

In the fall she'll be attending Hofstra University, and I think she's pretty psyched.

As part of the celebration, my folks are flying up from Florida this afternoon. In fact, they're probably at the gate at Palm Beach International now.

The house, normally clean and neat, is cleaner and neater. It was a good excuse for Helaine to get Steffie and me to hold up more of our end, at least as far as presentation is concerned.

One of the sore spots has been our patio furniture which sits behind the house in an area that gets no sun. Every spring it is covered in... well it's probably best we don't know exactly what it is covered in! It's just not the same color as the 'native' furniture.

Helaine thought it would be a good idea to get a power washer - and we did. In fact we got two. Neither of them worked.

Still she wouldn't give up on the idea. This morning she went to the rental place and picked up an industrial strength power washer.

Holy s***!

I'd say it could take the chrome off a trailer hitch, but that analogy has already been appropriated elsewhere.

So, here's another experience I'm only getting in my mid-50s. It certainly was something that never presented itself while growing up in apartment 5E or my many years as a renter.

Of course we use my parents as an excuse to do these things, but the truth is, they probably won't even notice. This is for us; our own piece of mind. My parents are just the excuse.

I wonder if I can use the washer on my car before we return it?

A friend sent me a photo of her daughter. It's a beautiful, large picture with Eva holding a cup of Italian ice. All I could look at... all I could see... were her eyes.

To me, these eyes are drinking in everything in range. She is absorbing each detail. It's the most astonishing thing.

It would be wrong to post a full face photo of this little girl. She deserves her privacy. But the eyes - I couldn't resist.

We went to Bradley International Airport to pick up my folks. In spite of traffic we were early.

Helaine and I sat down near the giant DO NOT ENTER signs, waiting to see someone try and enter. It didn't take long. This is too predictable. It is the low hanging fruit of airport entertainment.

With little to do, I moved over to the TV screens to make sure my parents' flight was still on time. That's where I spied today's stupid airline trick.

On the board was Delta's Flight 6969, service from Bozeman, MT via Minneapolis to Hartford. Right below it was Northwest Flight 1270 from Bozeman, MT, also via Minneapolis.

It was a code share. There's no doubt about it. Instead of competing, Delta sells tickets aboard this Northwest flight as if it were its own.

I don't like the idea because it is anti-competitive, but I understand why it happens and that it does happen with government approval.

Oh - on the board... the Delta flight was scheduled to land 10 minutes after Northwest's. Hello! It's the same plane.

Do you need a TV station to have a TV show? Yes and no. The advantage of a TV station is, it is a known commodity, usually with a well visited address.

If our newscasts on Channel 8 were to move tomorrow to the SciFi Channel, ratings would plummet. That's not to say bad things about SciFi, we just have better channel position with more traffic.

The disadvantage of a television station is it usually has high fixed costs. Smart operators are trying to work those costs down through automation and other technical advances. Sometimes that works, sometimes it doesn't - but it's obviously the wave of the future.

This leads to a question. Is it possible to have a successful TV show without having a TV channel (or cable network) behind you?

I'm wondering if the answer is yes after having seen a show produced by systm.org. It features Kevin Rose who was on Tech TV's The Screen Savers.

The show I saw last night was well produced, but on a topic so technically dense that few except the chronically nerdy would have watched. There were no commercials - how can it be economically sustained? Using the bittorrent protocol it took around 10 minutes to download.

Of course, it was free.

What I watched looked as good as anything produced for over-the-air or cable TV. If it had been something more attractive to a wide audience, with some way to pay the freight, I think it might be successful!

Bittorrent is an interesting distribution method, because it uses the collective bandwidth of the users, not a central server paid for by the program's distributor. That's a major cost saving when each viewer needs to receive hundreds of megabytes of data.

For attractive media (defined as something a specific group of viewers would seek out, because it scratches a specific itch) this might be a godsend.

Think of subject matter like photography, knitting, ham radio and kayaking. Each of these has a dedicated base of fans who want to see more on their hobby or avocation, but there's not enough audience tonnage to make this work on an established channel. Because the audience would be sharply targeted, each set of eyeballs would be worth more to advertisers or underwriters (this is non traditional media - why not a non traditional economic model).

It could be commercially viable - though more on the retail level than the mass marketing we're used to on TV. In other words, it makes sense for a person or small group of persons to do this. It doesn't make as much sense for a larger, high cost basis organization to get involved.

The big question is, will people do all the things necessary to download these files? Is there a way to preserve the cost structure as it is and make it seamless for the end user?

This could be very exciting.

It seems too soon. Helaine and I seem too young. Steffie seems too young. Yet yesterday, Steffie graduated from high school.

People treat it like such an important moment - and I suppose it is. Still, I'm trying to put my finger on what it was that actually made high school so important to me or important to Steffie.

In the car, on the way to the graduation ceremony, my dad told Steffie she had probably not yet met her life's best friend! That's pretty insightful. It's true in my case... Helaine's too.

I was such a bad high school student that anything valuable I picked up academically was probably just an accident.

I do know this - over the past year it's become obvious that Steffie is more of an intellectual than she'll admit. There is more that she decides based on her head, not emotion. There are more subjects she can speak about - things that are not discussed on MTV or E!.

That makes me proud. She probably won't understand that. Other parents will.

If the commercial is correct... if "people judge you by the words you use." She will be judged favorably.

That makes me proud too.

Helaine drove Steffie to school and then came back home to pick up my parents and me. Though the ceremony was scheduled for 5:00, we got there early. That was a good thing because the gym filled and then overflowed outside.

It was hot. The gym isn't air conditioned. The breeze that made it bearable when we walked in disappeared as more people entered.

I tried to think back to my graduation. I can't remember anything. Faintly, I seem to think my senior class was divided into two separate ceremonies so our 3,000+ seat auditorium (at the time the second largest 'house' in New York City, right behind Radio City Music Hall) would work for the 1,100 graduates and guests.

Steffie's graduating class was under 70. It's a little different. Still the ceremony was ploddingly slow and long, taking over two hours. I suppose the one thing not taught in high school is brevity!

Now her world changes. From a small high school and the comfort of living home, Steffie will be going away to a college with thousands of students. I'm not sure how exciting this is to her, but I can tell you it's exciting to me.

Somehow, I think she's ready.

My first computer show was in Atlantic City, NJ. You want to know how long ago it was? It was pre-gambling!

Since that time I've been drawn to out of the way... strange places... where computers are sold by the people who build them.

Over the years I've spent significant money in these computer shows. Mostly I've bought parts - little bits and pieces of computers. But I've also brought people to these shows so I could talk them through buying full systems (often assembled right there).

I've gone to them in school gyms, hotel ballrooms (and its adjacent swimming pool) racetracks and fairgrounds. If you had an unused, open space on a weekend, a show was going to take place.

The amazing thing for the promoters was, they could charge the vendors and charge the attendees! Yup, you paid for the privilege of buying.

Yesterday, my dad and I attended one not far from here and this might be my last.

We each paid $5 to get in. He bought some disk labels for $10 and I bought a very cool, lit, optical mouse for $8. The spark is gone.

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately - it depends on which side of the table you're on) most of what was only available at these shows is now available online and in brick and mortar stores. The prices online are cutthroat. The advantage of a local show is gone... at least to me it is. I saw nothing I can't see here on my PC.

I was surprised this last time to see some software that was surely bootleg. And I looked at some merchandise that was more expensive here than elsewhere. In fact, when I got home, I bought two more mice for $5 apiece.

It's a shame because there was always a bit of an outlaw feel to these shows. You were getting a real deal, buying from someone who was also getting a good deal because his uncle or brother or cousin lived near the factory in Taiwan or Korea.

Like I said, I'll be surprised if I go back.

I almost forgot this is the rush through Steffie's graduation. My father was the first to notice there were hardly any video cameras and a boatload of digital still cameras. Five years ago the audience would have been packed with camcorders and a few film cameras for stills.

Hmmm. That's very strange, because the common thread through advancing technology has always been that it brought new or better features. Video is certainly more advanced than still photography.

The secret is: utility and simplicity win out over more sophisticated technology.

Once you shoot video you've got to do something with it. My guess is most people are leaving it on tape, never bringing it into their computer to edit and transcode¹. Editing video makes all the difference in the world, starting with (but not limited to) removing the boredom factor for your viewers.

Sending video via email isn't that difficult - though there are no turnkey solutions. Even the easiest process takes dozens of steps you have to figure out more-or-less on your own.

On the other hand, photos are easy. And, even if you don't know what you're doing, you can send pictures via email.

I can tell lots of people are shooting and don't know what they're doing, because I'm always getting huge photo files, too big for any screen. If they're not too big, they're poorly shot pictures screaming to be processed in Photoshop, Paint Shop Pro or (the free imagery program) Gimp.

Maybe, someday, this will change and video will regain its status. For the time being, enjoy the stills. Getting them via email is still very cool.

¹ - That I get to use the word transcode says bundles about why so few people process their home movies!

Here's an employment hint to start off this entry. If you're going to be at a job, longevity has its rewards. I get lots of vacation after 21 years.

With my parents in town, I decided to use a few and today Steffie and I took them to the beach.

Helaine didn't go because Helaine hates sand! She always has as far as I know.

There are a number of beaches to choose from in Connecticut. I used to give them a bad rap, but some are actually quite nice. The water in Long Island Sound, once an embarrassment is reasonably good now - not perfect, but good.

We decided to go to Hammonasset State Park, on the shore in Madison. It's a two mile long beach surrounded by pristine marshland.

As in-state residents we paid $7 for parking and then drove in. I'm sure there is a difference from beach to beach, but we drove until we got to East Beach, said this seemed fine, and walked to the water.

The parking areas and tidal marsh are separated from the beach by a berm covered in wildflowers. This time of year they're blooming purple. Very pretty.

My toe is still killing me, so we walked (I hobbled) down a small path to the water's edge. The beach wasn't empty by any means, but I could see ten times this many people on the weekend. Most of the activity was centered near the parking areas with the shoreline between the 'official beaches' pretty empty.

This time of year, the water is frigid. There were a few souls who ventured out, but most of beachgoers were happy to lay around or dip their toes (very soothing to mine).

Though it was very hot inland, there was little breeze at all and so the beach was not a cool as expected. Still, it was a refreshing relief and a nice place to visit.

The sad fact is, I can't count my trips to the beach over the last 21 years on the fingers of one hand. My parents, who live in a town with the name "Beach" in it, never go.

This is too good not to take advantage of.

It's really been a long time since we went to Manhattan to do some shopping. Today was the day - all five of us: Helaine, Stef, my folks and me.

There was no rush, so we left the house after 10:00 AM. There's always a little family conflict about this, but I like to drive to Stamford and catch the train from there. Helaine prefers going to New Haven to pick up the train.

She says it takes less time. I say there are a lot more trains go to Stamford to choose from on the way home. Maybe we're both right. Unfortunately, the long term trend says when there's this kind of family conflict, either I'm wrong or Helaine's right.

We parked in Stamford and headed into the train station. I wanted some coffee, as did Steffie. As we got our drinks, the express pulled out! Next train: local... and a half hour wait.

We had no trouble getting to Grand Central Terminal. From there it was a quick subway trip on the "6" local to Canal Street.

Welcome to knockoff shopper's heaven.

We're used to hitting Canal Street and the Lower East Side on Sundays. Tuesday is a totally different animal. There's actually room on the street to stand without being bowled over!

Usually, Canal Street shopping is done from storefronts and curbside stands. On this Tuesday, most of the curbside stands were gone.

I had read about a huge crackdown recently. Big raids on Canal Street had driven out the knockoffs. I still saw some fancy watch names, though no Rolexes.

At one time, Canal Street and $10 Rolex were synonymous.

As far as handbags were concerned, there was merchandise, but none of the high end labels, like Kate Spade, Gucci, Louis Vuitton and Coach. These were the names that brought on the raids.

Still, looks can be deceiving. As we walked through the stores, the brand names we desired were being whispered at us, usually in Chinese accented English. After being asked at one store if that was what she wanted, Steffie said yes and was taken to the shopping underground.

Along with my mom and Helaine, Steffie followed the salesperson through a locked door in the back. As they walked out, the door was locked behind them. Then through another locked door, also locked behind them, and into a storeroom.

If they were going to be victims of a crime, this was as good a place as any... and I think there was at least some apprehension as their exits were successively bolted shut.

Where were they? I don't think they could find the actual store the journey began in, much less the hidden warehouse!

After a little show and tell and typical Canal Street haggling, they were on their way... with a few bags and later, a wallet.

How prevalent is this kind of thing on Canal Street? The huge Heineken billboard, up on the side of a building says it all: "The only authentic label on the block."

I hadn't bought a watch in a while, and that was my prey today. Years ago, Canal Street watches, those $10 Rolexes, only looked good from afar. Today, they are masterfully complex and sturdy and Rolex isn't the only luxury name represented.

I'm sure an expert can tell the difference¹, but I can't, nor can anyone I know. In fact, for all I know this was genuine merchandise.

My watch collection, a long running obsession, is filled with watches I trust are real and others I assume are pretend. Like children, I love them all dearly and play no favorites.

Helaine had recommended a rectangular tank style watch, but I though most of what I had seen in tanks were too large and bulky on my wrist. A leather band would be nice, since most of my watches have metal bands. I kept searching.

I settled on a mechanical watch - it's called an automatic chronograph. As you wear it, a mechanism (visible through a crystal on the watch's back²) winds the mainspring. The face has a main dial, with sweep second hand, plus dials for day of the week, day of the month and hour (in 24 hour notation). There are also two windows for year and month.

It's very nice looking and, so far, has kept accurate time. Since it's mechanical and won't be worn on a daily basis, it will need to be reset before each use. That much is bad. The rest is very good.

Today was a very hot day in an area with little air conditioning. We tried to stay cool with lots of water and soda, but it was tough.

I suppose I was the first to get a little cranky, wanting to bail. That wasn't nice - wasn't right. I should have been more of a team player... and I wasn't. I could blame my aching toe, but the responsibility is mine.

By the time I acquiesced, it was too late. The damage had been done.

We turned up Broadway heading toward SoHo and Greenwich Village. SoHo really is as happening as you've heard, with lots of stores and lots of people - mostly young.

After stopping in a few stores it was my dad's turn to raise the white flag. In his case it was justified. The heat had become more than he could take. That's the bad news. The good news is, he's 79. He put up with an awful lot of heat and humidity as if he were half his age!

We cut across to Bleeker Street and found the Uptown "6". As we approached the station I found the one shot that I think typifies this day in particular, and New York City during the summer in general. Leaning up against a subway entrance were two cops. They were resting and taking in the sights.

Their ease and relaxation set the mood for everyone around them.

Please understand, I am not criticizing their actions. In fact they were very appropriate for this time and this place and I have no doubt they were ready to be "cops" if necessary. Like I said, they set the mood.

We had dinner at Junior's in what had been the lower waiting room at Grand Central Terminal and what is now a busy food court. This time we caught the express and made it to Stamford in about 45 minutes and the rest of the way home in an hour.

I know this because I've got a new watch.

¹ - Actually, I'm not sure. With some of the products, I suspect they're made in the same factory, by the same workers, with the same raw materials.

² - I have just learned this type of watch, with parts of the works exposed, is called a skeleton watch.

There's an ad running in a number of computing magazine from NewEgg, a mailorder retailer. Not only is it targeting me - it is me!

This ads salutes anyone whose ever rebuilt his computer until it didn't work!

I thought I'd write about some interesting things I've read over the past few days.

The first seems to be a simmering controversy. It has not yet reached critical mass, but it should as soon as someone in the mainstream press catches on.

Is someone else fudging when it comes to global warming? Last week there were questions about a pro-industry push. This is just the opposite.

It starts with some comments on global warming from a respected scientist representing a respected organization

All well and good, except this is a conclusion and a report steeped in controversy.

Dr. Chris Landsea is from the National Hurricane Center. He's the guy who wrote the Hurricane Center's FAQ. He is not a happy camper.

Landsea goes on to say global warming will have minimal impact (if any) on tropical systems down the road. In fact, Landsea has resigned from this board in protest of the books being cooked.

Earlier today Matt Drudge was linking to an article which quoted Dr. Trenberth with no opposing viewpoints or perspective I was upset, so I wrote the author of the story.

How much damage has been done? Who can tell. Even bad or retracted research sometimes takes on a life of its own. I'll wait and see what's quoted later.

On to the second bit of reading which concerns the space program. It's not often I see something in the National Review I agree with (in fact it's not often I see the National Review). Today was the day.

This time it's an article by John Derbyshire about the space program and its dubious current value. This is something I've written about before here in the blog. It's not a popular thing to say the space program is a total waste... but it is.

I wrote John (whom I'd never heard of before this evening) and he wrote back.

A Brasilia analogy - wow!

Helaine was about 10 seconds out of the garage when she called me on her cell phone.

"Go to the window," she said.

Across the street, staring right at her car was a deer. Though Bambi was lovely to look at, in person deer are ugly. Actually, it's a good body, bad face problem.

The deer was probably here to scout out the fruit on my peach trees. The peaches themselves are far from ready, but deer seem to be impatient and voracious.

I'm a city boy. I grew up in Apartment 5E. Deer weren't allowed above the 3rd floor. What do I know? Deer seemed mystical and exotic until I moved to the 'burbs where I learned they were really tall rats with white tails.

Before the season is over, I can guarantee the deer will eat more of my peaches than I will!

The five of us went out this afternoon for a quick shopping trip. First though was a stop at Dunkin' Donuts for some coffee. It was there I spied the green Volkswagen.

As it turns out, there's a guy in my town who has a business refurbishing these tiny cars.

The car I saw (and the car in the picture here on the web) is a '67. Mine was a '60. There is a lot of difference internally¹, but from an aesthetic standpoint, it's the same car. In fact, mine was the same color green, albeit faded and pock marked with rust.

Looking at that old Beetle brought back a lot of memories. With its narrow tires the VW moved around the road as if it were in a dance contest. There was no way to keep it in one lane as long as there was any breeze at all!

There were no seat belts, air bags nor any other kind of modern safety equipment. The dashboard was metallic and not padded. To make matters worse, the gas tank was under the hood, sitting pretty much on top of your feet.

Speaking of under the hood, that's where the trunk was... and also where you filled the gas tank. I opened the trunk of the car at Dunkin' Donuts and instantly was reminded the body had the thickness and resilience of an Altoids box!

With its little air cooled engine, it could accelerate 0-60 mph in a week or so. Actually, mine could barely get to 60 mph (I think I once got it to 63 mph). On a steep grade, even when starting at highway speed, you'd have to downshift to maintain. That meant a top uphill speed under 50 mph!

While cruising at top speed, I remember trying to throw my weight forward, as if it would help accelerate the car.

Since there was no radiator (it was an air cooled engine after all) the heater/defroster was challenged. It was always cold in the winter and anything that fell from the sky stuck on the windshield. The little wiper blades were totally ineffectual.

Did I mention I loved this car.

I bought it from what I thought was a private owner. As I later discovered, I bought it from someone who had purchased it after a wreck (let's use the southern vernacular) and redid the body.

More than once the master cylinder, which powered the braking system, failed. I drove around for weeks at a time using only the emergency brake. What a stupid thing to do. I'm not proud. In fact, looking back, I am appalled. What was I thinking?

I bought the car with the intention of bringing it back to Boston where I was going to school. I paid my money, but didn't know how to operate a 'standard'. The Volkswagen had a 'four on the floor' manual transmission which had to be coordinated with proper use of the clutch. Two feet for driving and only the left hand dedicated to steering, with the right throwing the shifter.

The car's seller sat in the front seat and gave me a lesson. We drove around my neighborhood of six story apartment buildings in Flushing for about five minutes. I hit no one. That was it. Lesson complete. Within the next half hour I was on my way north!

As I remember it, I stalled the car while leaving the toll booth on the Whitestone Bridge.

Having a VW was great for Boston. It could fit into nearly any space, legal or not. In that pre-computer age I collected parking tickets issued by the Boston Police Department and strung them together like a string of pearls.

Even today, 35 years later, I worry they may still be looking for me - somehow establishing a waiver to the statute of limitations since I owed enough to bail the Commonwealth out of any financial jam.

That little car that I bought for $400 meant so much to me. It was an integral part of my growing up. When I moved to Florida, it was the VW that moved me there - everything I owned and still room to pick up a hitchhiker on the way to Washington, DC.

Seeing this green car today meant a lot to me. I know I stayed and gabbed and slowed everyone else in the family down. I called Steffie over to look, but it was meaningless to her. You had to be there, back in the 60s when the VW Beetle was a symbol of the counterculture.

Today, again, for a few moments I was.

¹ - All cars now, and the car in the photo above, have 12 volt electrical systems with negative ground. My 1960 Beetle had a 6 volt system with a positive ground. All it meant was it was impossible to find anything that worked in the VW that wasn't specifically designed for it.

This is the last full day of my parent's visit - time for another trip into New York City.

Usually, on Sunday trips, we drive. Steffie asked if we could take the train and I said yes. I'm not entirely sure it was a good idea, though a street fair on 6th Avenue and the Yankees game probably slowed things down.

We left around 10:00 AM and headed to New Haven's Union Station. Our train was local through Connecticut, but from Stamford it went non-stop to 125 Street in Harlem and then Grand Central Terminal.

We talked about people we knew, people from Connecticut, who claimed to never have been to New York City. That stuns me, though I know it's true. There's so much to do in the city that you can't do anywhere else.

Actually, as a kid I always thought I'd grow up and move to New York. Even as an adult there were times when I thought my career would take me there. At this point it probably won't happen.

Living in New York is convenient and cumbersome at the same time. Getting anything home - like grocery shopping, is an incredible hassle. Then there's the noise and the crowds. On the other hand, if you live in the city, you can get anything delivered to you at any hour of the day or night.

New York is the only city in the world with twenty four hour room service!

And, you can walk to where you're going. Walking is the major advantage city life has over anything else. It's funny how we think of the suburbs or country as healthier living, but New Yorkers certainly walk more than my neighbors do. They surely walk more than I do.

And, of course, whatever you want to do - it's there! Movies, museums, restaurants, culture, crap - it's there.

We got off the train at Grand Central and headed to the Museum of Modern Art. I'll have to hand it to Stef. She kept her word. I know she had no desire, but she went with the rest of us into the museum.

MOMA is unlike most museums in that there are no classics - everything is new, meaning 20th or 21st century.

We headed to the fourth floor and started scouting around. Some of the work is spectacular. Some of the work is ridiculous. Some of the work seems to be saying, "Can you tell I'm trying to fool you?"

The man on the left is staring at a painting that lists the world's 1,000 longest rivers, in order. Is it art? Actually, I liked it!

Yes, there are single colored canvasses - just a solid blue canvas, for instance. Is that art? MOMA thinks so. I'm not so sure.

Then there are the works of Picasso, Gauguin, Klee, Lichtenstein and Jackson Pollock (he of the paint splatters seemingly sprayed at random on a canvas). Andy Warhol's soup cans are there too.

It's all a little overwhelming. Standing next to some of these paintings is like standing next to Mick Jagger or Britney Spears because they're cultural icons, etched into our common experience.

We couldn't stay too long. Six months ago, before we knew my parents were coming, we had gotten tickets to see "Wicked" on Broadway. Steffie, Helaine and I had to head to the Gershwin Theater for the 3:00 PM performance.

"Wicked" is the prequel to "The Wizard of Oz." It's the story of how Glinda became the Good Witch and Elphaba, The Wicked Witch of the West. It's a cute story with a great cast. As is so often the case on Broadway, the first act was better than the second, though the show ended very strongly.

For months Steffie has had "Popular," a song from "Wicked," on her Ipod. And for months, I had been playing it and singing along. Obsessed? Me? Sure.

If, for some reason, the conductor had suffered a wrist injury, I was ready to step in and lead the orchestra for this one song. I knew every word, every note, every bit of accompaniment in the arrangement.

It took everything I could muster to refrain from leading the orchestra from my seat.

The original cast is long gone. The current stars - unknowns to me - were very good and the staging was spectacular. We didn't expect it, but in the cast were Ben Vereen (The Wizard of Oz) and Rue McClanahan (Madame Morrible).

It has become common for Broadway shows to have names you recognize from TV to help at the box. If these two were meant to sell tickets, they're awfully well hidden. Of course "Wicked" doesn't seem to need help selling tickets at the moment.

My parents met us at the theater at 6:10 and we proceeded to dinner. The five of us feasted at the Stage Delicatessen on 7th Avenue.

We were stuffed as we walked south, through Times Square, and back to Grand Central. I must have taken 10 shots of the Chrysler Building as it glistened in the golden light of the late day's sun. It stood out so tastefully against the pure blue sky.

Our train left at 8:07 and took nearly two hours to reach New Haven, making this an awfully long day - but a great Father's Day.

By now I hope you've seen Google's map application. To me, it's better than all the others for maps and directions.

Part of what makes Google's mapping cool is Ajax coding, something I'm about to talk about, though I really don't understand it. It's a method which allows the Google page to appear 'live'. You can drag a map and scroll it across the page as if it lived on your PC and not Google's servers.

Like I said, it's really cool.

Part of the 'fun' of applications like this is the ability to 'hack' them. I'm not talking about stealing credit card numbers. 'Hack' here is used in its purest geek sense of modifying and extending someone else's work.

A perfect example is Storm Report Map. This online application takes the daily severe weather reports from the Storm Prediction Center and navigates them on Google's maps.

This is very impressive stuff. There's gotta be more to come!

Orientated is a word. I know, it's used a lot. However, it is almost always used incorrectly, when the word used should be "oriented."

It's like chalk on a blackboard to my family and me... except when we use it!

Many years ago, Helaine and I had a meeting with an administrator in Steffie's school. This was a nice woman; a concerned person. She said, "orientated." End of story.

To us, being "orientated" is an inside joke.

Today was orientation day at Steffie's college. At the moment, I am sworn to secrecy, except to say it's out-of-state, but of drivable distance.

The orientation program began at 8:45 AM. We left the house before 7:00. By 8:45 we hadn't yet reached Stamford!

How the hell do people commute on I-95 into NYC on a daily basis? This was brutal.

When we got to the school, we followed the signs until we got lost. Then we followed the crowds. There were families congregating on campus. They were there for a graduation! From the looks of things, probably a local high school that was using the college's facilities.

We finally found the place where Steffie was to be. A nice young woman greeted us, looked at Steffie and said parents and friends could go no further. Bye.

That was nine hours ago. We're hoping Steffie's still on campus, but haven't heard from her yet. It's probably a good sign - right?

After dropping Steffie off, Helaine and I went to a parent's meeting so we personally could become orientated. Here's what we learned. No drugs. No alcohol. Students are requested to be more civil to their dorm mates than they are to their parents.

And then, there's the federal law - FERPA.

First things first. If there's a "§" in any document, it is a code which means I'm not going to personally benefit from anything that follows!

FERPA says, once Steffie turned 18, the only notice I get of her college education is the bill. Unless she says so, in writing, her grades and anything else that goes on on campus is none of my business.

What happens in college, stays in college.

I'm not worried. I'm already prepared, because I already have 12 years of experience with this

For twelve years nothing happened - but at least I got parent-teacher conferences. Now, I'm totally cut off!

Helaine and I stayed for the orientation session and then drove home, totally orientated. The trip back took half the time getting there took. This will be a route we'll know well, I'm sure.

It's very heady stuff. Steffie is entering a new and exciting world of opportunity.

You can tell a child that school is preparing them for things, but it's just so much abstract BS until this. I think she can clearly see that after college it's the real world... and I'm not talking about some MTV house with 24/7 lighting, tatoos and piercings galore and an open bar.

Let the games begin.

Blogger's note - I used the "§" symbol, but I don't know what it's called. I tried searched on Google, but like Prince's interim name, it's really not something that can be pronounced. If you know what it's called, leave a comment or drop me a line.

Many Maxis games from SimCity 3000 on, including The Sims and The Sims 2, use this symbol to represent the unit of currency in SimNation, the simoleon.

Dwight Yoakam was on with Jon Stewart tonight¹. I know nothing about Dwight Yoakam except for the fact that he's a country music star. There are country songs I like, but I certainly don't gravitate there.

I don't know any Dwight Yoakam songs. I could not pick Dwight Yoakam out of a police lineup.

This may all change. He's nuts - in a very good way.

Stewart said something about Ringo Starr (last night's guest) and Yoakam was off to the races, making the strangest connections. He was loaded with little nuggets... facts about the Beatles, Monkees and Mel Gibson.

He's really bright. The connections were unexpected and to the point. You could hear the gears meshing as he thought it all through... and he was probably slowing it down to let the rest of us keep up.

Impressed? Yes, very much. Now, if I only knew what his music sounded like.

¹ - I've never mentioned here what a huge Jon Stewart fan I am and how his show is recorded and watched by me every night. Now it's been mentioned.

Tuesday we took Steffie to college and came home without her. Maybe she doesn't realize this was a seminal moment, but Helaine and I did. We may joke about diapers and Desitin but it's all true - all part of the fabric of our lives.

Steffie should still be a baby in much the same way candy bars should still be a nickel, phone calls a dime and the subway fifteen cents.

We came home 'empty nesters.'

With nothing to do Wednesday (I took another vacation day), we decided to head to Foxwoods Casino¹ to try our luck. We're lucky because Connecticut's two casinos are close enough to get to with no problem and far enough to keep us from going more than a few times a year.

As a poker player I'm always looking to see how my brick and mortar skills stack up against what I do online. I think I've become a good player and this would be a test.

I sat down at a $10-$20 table, hoping to hold my own and setting a 'stop loss' amount in my head. With a break for dinner, I played around nine hours.

My bankroll went up and down like a cork bobbing in a stormy sea. I was up early, then watched the money bleed away. After a few hours I went 'all in' on a hand, risking my limit, but winning the pot.

As I approached our time to go home, and my last hand, I was down enough to note, but not enough to matter. I was big blind - forced to bet. My two cards were King and Four of Spades.

Normally, I'd throw them away, but I was in by virtue of the blind bet.

The flop came with two more spades... and then the betting. The odds were less than 50:50 I'd pick up another spade. On the turn, nothing - what poker players call a rag.

More betting. Now, with one card left, my odds were under 1:4. Because of the substantial money already in the pot, over the long run it made sense to invest in this hand. Sure I'd lose most times, but when I'd win it would more than make up for the busts.

The river card brought the Ace of Spades. My flush was made - and I bet.

I had 'the nuts' - an unbeatable hand. The one other person in the pot (I'd later find he had two aces already, giving him 3 of a kind) immediately knew I'd hit. He called my bet, adding twenty more dollars to the stack of chips.

That one hand took me from small time loser to substantial winner.

I got up and cashed in my chips. Then I walked across the casino floor to where Helaine was playing Caribbean Stud Poker. She was sitting at a moderately full table with at least one semi-obnoxious drunk. Everyone else, including the dealers and bosses, were very nice.

After a few minutes my cellphone rang. It was Steffie and she was very upset. There had been a dance to culminate her orientation session. When she returned to her room, her Ipod was gone!

She had done all the right things - spoken to campus security and filled out forms. That isn't the point. Even the cost of the Ipod, substantial as it is, isn't the point.

Having someone enter your private space and go through your belongings, then take something of yours, is unnerving. You feel unclean. You have been violated. It has happened to me and I feel her pain.

That this would happen in her second night in a dorm is awful.

I told Helaine my hope was there would be a silver lining in this cloud - and there was. The kids Steffie had become friendly with stayed at her side. She said a contingent actually slept on the floor of her room.

Today, when we came to get her, it was obvious she had been bruised by this experience - but not scarred. That is an excellent sign.

Other than the Ipod incident, everything went perfectly. She got the classes she wanted at the times she wanted. She wouldn't go to school too early on Mondays nor too late on Fridays.

I am so jealous.

I have a good feeling about this college thing. Steffie exudes a confidence and maturity I haven't seen before. She wears it well.

She had always been told, kids from her high school found college to be easier than what they'd just experienced. As she began to hear this year's expectations of her from the school administrators, she realized that was no fairy tale. They were scaring kids with stories of work less demanding than what she'd just completed!

She has the preparation and ability to thrive.

I will miss Steffie when she goes to school. The truth is, life with her has never been better or more fun. I'm not writing anything she doesn't already know.

¹ - Connecticut has two casinos, Foxwoods and Mohegan Sun. They're both quite nice. Mohegan Sun is a little closer. It used to offer poker, but mysteriously (about twenty minutes before the big poker explosion) they closed their room and moved in slot machines.

We decided to replace Steffie's purloined Ipod, so we headed to the Apple store at a mall near college. Once again, my VISA purchase was denied. This is not the first time I'm writing about my frustration with this First USA account. I got it off my chest before in August 2003 and December 2004.

Here's part of the letter going to the VISA bank involved, First USA.

It's bad enough in a strange city, but it's worse here in Connecticut where I'm known.