What Have I Learned in Florida?

I leave here in a little over 12 hours. Over the course of my flight north, I will lose anywhere from 40&#176 to 60&#176!

The five days I spent with my folks has been wonderful. I spent more time with my dad, nearly every waking hour, but lots of time with my mom too. As sappy as this sounds, every second was a treat. I am so lucky to have had this opportunity.

Tonight, in conversation, my mom told me there were times when I was growing up, when we didn’t speak. I don’t remember that at all. Maybe I blotted it out. Those days are certainly gone.

My mom and dad have a great marriage. They are excellent companions and good friends. And, for the most part, they are friends with each others friends. That’s a bonus in any relationship.

I’ve said in the past that living here in Florida has been life extension for them. I’m sticking with that. It could also be argued, it’s the happiest time of their lives. Even more than happy, they are content.

They have their health… though it’s tough to say both parents are in excellent health when my dad has been through a bypass operation, both carotid arteries have been cleaned, he’s suffered the loss of one eye and now failing hearing. My mom’s a cancer survivor. Still, there doesn’t seem to be anything they want to do that they don’t do because of physical restraints.

My dad and I have talked about his being 78. It’s an age he never planned for – never imagined living to. He doesn’t feel like 78, but what should 78 feel like? Both my folks are older than any family member before them. Neither seems old.

Even Steffie has commented on their relative youth, compared to their friends specifically and their contemporaries in general. This is a major compliment coming from someone who does not throw out compliments easily.

The area in Florida where they live is Utopia for seniors. Today, my mom went to ceramics class. She has started painting again – something she hadn’t done seriously for decades. My dad has easy access to golf and high speed access on the computer. Their condo complex has social events and shows on a regular basis. John Davidson is coming in a few weeks. They’ll be going to a cousin’s condo to see Elaine Boozler.

In this part of Palm Beach County, seniors rule. They are mainstream. They are catered to. They are the goose that lays the golden egg – and you think twice before screwing with the goose.

They are surrounded by friends. The group of friends they’ve had for the past 50+ years – a group that was scattered across the New York City Metropolitan Area – is now here… and in the same town! And they have made Florida friends here in the condo complex.

My dad is a computer guru here. I had always kidded him about that. Friday, a man approached my dad in the condo clubhouse and thanked him for earlier advice. He was proud of his accomplishment, and vindicated, all at once.

Tonight, at dinner, someone talked about a development named “Journey’s End.” No one in Florida wants to think about the journey’s end. I don’t blame them. Yet it surrounds them.

My mom attended a memorial ceremony a few days ago. “I didn’t know he had done so much,” she said. The sound of sirens is often heard along Military Trail or nearby Boynton Beach Boulevard. Their coterie of friends is smaller than it once was. Most have, so far, dodged serious ailments.

Helaine and I talk often about dumping winter and moving here, where it’s always warm. After five days here – five days of beautiful weather while Connecticut suffered through cold temperatures of historic proportion – I am more enticed by the idea than ever. It’s still too early in our lives, but our day will come.

We should be as happy – as content – as my parents.

Greetings from Boynton Beach II

I pride myself on the fact that I write something on the blog every day. That didn’t happen yesterday. I wanted to write – just too tired.

I mentioned earlier that I had seen my old friend Ralph on Monday. What I didn’t mention is, I didn’t get to bed until after 3:30 AM. Between blogging and doing some Photoshop work for Helaine, I wasn’t finished until then.

Yesterday, I went and played golf with my dad. We played a the Kings Point golf course, located at an older condo complex near here. The course was short – lots of water.

The weather was superb. It’s even better with the knowledge that temperatures back home went below zero overnight with windchills down in the ‘surface of the moon’ range.

Today’s weather at home:


Today’s weather here in Florida:

As a golfer, I stink.

I remember seeing articles about the “worst regular golfer in America.” I am sure that I’d qualify as a finalist in that competition, if I didn’t take the main prize.

I have said this to people before and they usually think it’s some sort of false modesty. No, it is not. I am awful at golf. I am awful at all athletic endeavors.

When I was a kid, being bad at sports was a problem. Sports and athletic acumen helps create the kid hierarchy. As an adult, I just don’t care. And, most adults don’t care how I play either.

Yesterday, it was my dad and me and two strangers we were hooked up with. Our partners were both older than my father who is 78. So, I had at least 25 years on the group. I was still the worst player in our foursome – it wasn’t close.

This, off course, begs the question, why play at all? There are a few reasons, not the least of which is, it is played out of doors, normally in beautiful surroundings. The most important reason is the one, maybe two, shots per game when you really hit it right (even though that is just as much an accident as the one you splashed into the lake at a 45&#176 angle from the fairway).

If I were to try and take the field with an NFL team, or go to the hoop versus an NBA player or stand in against major league pitching, I’d have no chance. But in golf, every once in a while, I will hit a ball just as good as the pros. I’m not talking about off the tee, but when I’m closer in to the hole, or even already on the green. In fact, if you watch the pros play on TV, they sometimes miss ‘easy’ shots. Hey, I can do that too!

We played 18 holes and I probably lost 9-10 balls! Suddenly the round of golf has gone up in cost. However, like the credit card commercials: A round of golf with my dad – priceless.

We got home around 5:00 PM, I took a shower and was out the door for dinner in Ft. Lauderdale with my friend Wendie. Wendie is my ex-boss. I have kept in touch with most my of the news directors I’ve worked for, but I am closest with Wendie.

She works in Miami as the Executive Producer of Nightly Business Report on PBS. Though less glamorous and well publicized than the other daily financial shows, it is the most watched. That surprised me too, but broadcast still has a vastly greater reach than cable.

Wendie picked a restaurant equidistant to the two of us (OK – she lied – it was much closer to her), Mango on East Las Olas Boulevard in Ft. Lauderdale.

East Los Olas is reminiscent of Colorado Boulevard in Pasadena, Lincoln Road in Miami Beach, The Gaslight District in San Diego, or any number of other streets filled restaurants and artists. Wendie had fish and I had seafood over pasta. Very good and the atmosphere was nice. Most of all it was nice to catch up with Wendie. Good friends are tough to come by.

After dinner we attempted to walk some dinner off (Wendie – a gym rat – is in much better shape than I am), going in and out of stores. We especially enjoyed an art gallery that specialized in cartoon cells and other animation art. Considering this stuff is a byproduct of the actual work of producing the cartoons, and would be made whether it was later sold or not, it’s awfully expensive. There were a few really cool ones from The Simpsons and Rocky and Bullwinkle.

By 9:30, I was on the road again, heading north toward my parent’s place. I made a few wrong turns and a few phone calls. I am fairly pleased with Cingular’s GSM service here in South Florida. I have only had one call dropped and always had service. If it could only work like this at home!

One of the most interesting sights on I-95 (a very boring trip for sightseers) is the logo on the side of the building housing Don King Enterprises. Don’s logo is a crown with KING at the bottom and the slogan: “Only in America.” Is he referring to the fact that a man convicted of manslaughter couldn’t make it this big in another country? Probably. To my way of thinking, “Only in America” in this context isn’t a glowing endorsement of America.

I used to live here in South Florida when I was starting out in radio in early 1970. The area my parents live, where I’m sitting right now, was swamp! In fact, the ‘end of civilization’ is miles and miles farther west than I could have ever imagined.

This is an area of great and continued growth. You can’t drive far without seeing another strip shopping center or big box category killer store. There are more doctors, clinics and banks than anywhere else I’ve ever been.

With a huge population of seniors, many with fairly substantial amounts of disposable income and few expenses, shopping is thriving. I would guess, for these municipalities and the county (my parents live in an unincorporated portion of Palm Beach County), the elderly population is a godsend – paying taxes without sending kids to school.

One last thing before I go. I continue to go without shaving. The last time I was touched by the razor was Friday – so 5 days. I think I’m starting to agree with Helaine. It looks awful! And, it’s a little uncomfortable. I’ll give it a few more days.

Greetings from Boynton Beach

I have arrived – and it’s warm! What more could you ask for? Considering what I saw when I walked out the door today, Florida is especially nice.

Getting to Florida today was much easier than I ever imagined. First, the snow was over early and there really wasn’t all that much of it. Second, the roads were in good shape. Third, the airport was in good shape. Fourth, Southwest – excellent.

My flight was scheduled to leave at 12:15 PM. On the way to the airport my pocket started vibrating. It was a text message on my cellphone from Southwest. The flight was on time and would be leaving from Gate 2.

Helaine pulled up at the brand new terminal at Bradley International. Compared to the old “bus terminal” it is phenomenal. But, it’s still pretty sterile with too much wasted vertical space to suit me. However, remember what it was before!

Gate 2 is pretty close. I got there early enough to watch a flight to Orlando board and leave.

Let me add here that the Bradley Airport experience would be greatly improved with the addition of Cinnabon. If there’s one in the new terminal, I didn’t find it. Cinnabon is required eating for air travel in the new century.

I struck up a conversation with the gate agent. It looked like the flight would be 2/3 full. So, even though I had a “B” boarding pass (no assigned seats on Southwest) I was in no hurry. As it turned out, I had a full three seat cluster and slept for about an hour. Unlike some other airlines, the Southwest seatbelts stowed nicely out of the way for comfortable sleeping in the airborn fetal postion.

The plane was nice. Southwest flies 737’s and nothing else. There are different model and configurations, but they’re all 737’s. The seats were leather and firm. The plane looked clean, though it was 8 years old. It’s tough to judge legroom and seat width when you’re all alone, but both seemed adequate.

The flight to Tampa was fine. There was a little light turbulence, but it only helped put me to sleep.

After waking up, I struck up a conversation with a flight attendant. The first thing I told her was the first thing I noticed – the Southwest attitude. Everyone was friendly. Everyone was happy. I know this is an overstatement. Even in the best of jobs there are people who are upset, or hate the boss, or feel overlooked and overworked. Still, the aura was there. As someone who’s flown mostly United and USAirways over the last few years (two airlines in financial troubles with labor unrest) it was easy to pick up the vibe.

I had planned on watching a lecture for my Synoptic Meteorology class, but after 7:30 minutes I pulled out the GPS receiver and watched our progress instead.

It was a ‘nerdy cool’, seeing the map and our position, then looking out the window and seeing everything where it was supposed to be. Where I-75 bent on the map, it bent in real life. Lakes and streams were positioned correctly.

We landed in Tampa about 20 minutes early. One of the flight attendants joked on the P.A., “You tell your friends when we’re late. Let them know we were early.” And now I have.

The early arrival added to the ground time in Tampa. I sat on an arm rest and talked with a Connecticut couple and their 21 year old twin daughters. They were on their way to Key West. The dad was a dead ringer for John Goodman, though I didn’t want to say anything, in case he had seen King Ralph or hated Goodman for other more cryptic and sinister reasons.

The door to the cockpit was open, and I asked the flight attendant if I might go up and take some photos. When I got their, the co-pilot had left the cockpit, so I schmoozed with the pilot who asked me if I wanted to sit down. Then he took my picture, at the controls. OK – we were at the gate, but still… It’s a guy thing. I can’t explain it.

The plane was around 1/4 full when we took off for the short run to West Palm Beach. As we headed skyward I studied what looked like cirrus clouds. Closer inspection leads me to believe it was a massive cluster of jet contrails which, in the nearly calm Florida atmosphere, slowly atrophied as it expanded.

My folks were waiting at PBI. They look great. Florida living is life extension. They have a great time and live the best lifestyle they’ve ever had. As I get older, this type of retirement life seems more enticing.

I knew a friend from high school, Ralph Press, was now living in South Florida, so I gave him a call and asked him over for dinner. Though his car was seriously smoking from the engine compartment when he got here, the rest of the journey seemed uneventful.

Ralph looks exactly the same as I remember him. Of course, he’s a lot older – that’s a given. But many people radically change as they age. Ralph has not.

We had dinner and worked on my parents wireless computer network. The network seems to be working except with my laptop. And, the laptop is giving me an error message I’ve never seen before. I have some CAT5 cable, so it’s not a major deal. I can plug-in. But, I will obsess until I fix it and go wireless again.

The Weatherman’s the Last to Know

So, here I am at 3:30 AM, schmoozing on IM with my friend Bob in Florida, when he springs it on me. The computer models are now calling for about &#188″ of precipitation on Monday, my getaway day. And, to make matters worse, it looks like snow.

The snow had been in my forecast, but as recently as Friday it looked quite minor, like flurries or snow showers. Earlier, it seemed like it might be a mix of precipitation.

This forecast calls for about 2-3″ for my drive the Bradley Airport (and Helaine’s drive home). And then there’s always the chance that flights will be delayed due to weather.

Depending on what’s going on later today, maybe I’ll give Southwest a call and see how cooperative they are?

My $222.50 ticket is now closer to $400, so they might not want to make an even swap. On the other hand, if they anticipate bad weather for Monday too, and how can they not, maybe they don’t want me hanging around in the airport.

Now that I’ve written all this, I realize that maybe I’m becoming a little bit of a wuss. After all, I lived in Buffalo. How bad can 2-3″ of snow be?

It’s a Guy Thing

In anticipation of a week away, down in Florida, I began packing tonight. No coat. No sweaters. Golf clubs!

I have decided, for this one week, no shaving. We’ll see what my folks have to say about this… or how I feel about it once the beard comes in.

Shaving is one of those necessary evils of adulthood. I’m not sure I know one adult male who wouldn’t stop shaving, if he could. I will look scroungy!

When I return to Connecticut, I will shave it off. Even if I could wear it, I probably wouldn’t (and it probably wouldn’t be allowed), it’s not a good look.

At least I don’t think it’s a good look. I’ll have a chance to reevaluate.

Good God It’s Cold!

I just went out for a container of coffee. Usually, even in the coldest weather, I grin and bear it. Tonight is different – special if you will.

My car-mometer said 7… and then 6 degrees. That in and of itself wasn’t too bad. It’s the wind.

Wind chill is a real thing. No, water won’t freeze at temperatures above 32, just because the wind chill’s down. Still, your body’s skin temperature will move more rapidly toward the outside air temperature when the wind is whipping. That’s what wind chill is all about.

It’s brutal. It really was painful to stand outside, even for the few seconds it took to get to the car.

If there’s any consolation, it’s that I’m going to Florida to visit my folks and play some golf on Monday. Even if the temperatures in Florida are below their normal – if it rains every day – no matter what, I won’t kvetch. Not after tonight.

Something’s Gotta Give – The Movie

As previously established, this being Christmas, and especially with Steffie in Florida visiting my folks, Helaine and I went to the movies. The chosen flick was “Something’s Gotta Give” starring Jack Nicholson and Diane Keaton, with Keanu Reeves and Amanda Peet.

Let me start by saying the title doesn’t seem to fit. Every time I’ve gone to tell someone I saw the movie, and even as I began to type this entry, I couldn’t remember it!

Jack Nicholson is playing himself (or at least the guy he plays when it seems like he’s playing himself) again. Hey, that’s a good thing. It’s a character I enjoy seeing. Nicholson is larger than life. In fact, most of what I read about him is more interesting than most of the characters in movies.

His love interest was played by Diane Keaton. I remember her breakout role as Annie Hall. I would have never predicted her career would go where it’s gone and that she would be as good as she’s gotten. Again, this is an enjoyable performance by an actress I’ve grown comfortable with.

Both she and Nicholson are effortless in their roles and with each other.

In the movie, Nicholson is a guy who can’t commit. Unlike most guys in their 60’s, Nicholson is dating and bedding women young enough to be his daughter… from a second or third marriage. He meets Diane Keaton while dating her daughter.

I found the story poignant and the characters likable and real. There were times when the dialog seemed ad libbed between the two principals. If it wasn’t, that’s a major tribute to the writing. If it was, it’s a credit to the director for letting these pros expand on the material. Hold on – it’s the same person – Nancy Meyers.

It is difficult to imagine anyone else playing Nicholson’s role, but Nicholson. Helaine commented and I agree, that the part was most likely written for him or with him in mind.

I come from a family where we often cry at commercials. So, it’s not a major thing to say I cried, a little. The movie was poignant. The emotions were warm. The ending was sweet.

During the movie, I felt the urge to hold my wife’s hand and tell her of my affection. I suppose that makes it a ‘chick flick.’

Of course, it was followed by Chinese food.

High Alert – Steffie Flies

We’re under a High Alert from the Department of Homeland Security. Hopefully, police and security agencies know what to do, but for us mere mortals there are few clues.

The official word is, “Go about your business.” Great. It’s like being told not to think about an elephant in pajamas. What else could you possibly think of after that?

If you boil this alert down to its essence, the only effect it’s having on the general public is to scare us. If we’re not supposed to do anything different, what other benefit is there?

Meanwhile, Steffie had reservations to fly to Florida and visit my folks. This was going to be our first experience with Southwest, after switching my frequent flier allegiance to them a few months ago.

Helaine and I never talked about it, but there was no point when we considered changing Steffie’s plans. I feel confident in the safety of air travel. Beyond that, it would seem a Southwest 737 from Hartford to West Palm Beach via Tampa would be a very unlikely target.

Speaking of Southwest, the report back from the airport was mostly positive. Helaine and Steffie got there early so Steffie could be in “Group A” under Southwest’s non-reserved seating policy. Depending on when you check in, you’re assigned A, B or C. A’s board first and have their choice of seats and overhead storage.

There had been a time when National Guardsmen inspected cars on their way to the parking garage at Bradley Airport. Not so today when you’d expect it.

Southwest is in the new terminal at Bradley and Helaine reports it’s bigtime. Southwest allows three bags at 70 pounds apiece, so Steffie was easily accommodated. Helaine asked for, and was quickly issued, a gate pass, so she could stay with Steffie while she waited to board. We were expecting good, friendly service from Southwest and weren’t disappointed.

Once onboard, in row 7, Steffie called Helaine to let her know things were fine. The next call came after arriving in Tampa. All I got was a reply to my cellphone text message. Without going into the entire message, I’m a loser.

It’s OK. It was said with love. I think.

Steffie’s flight made it on time. Now, she gets a full week of being spoiled (and listening to A&E at stun level volume) with my folks.

The house will be eerily quiet, and though Steffie and I are often at odds, I will miss her.

Radio Is In My Blood

I am not really in television – it’s more radio with pictures. Radio was always my first love. As a kid, I knew I’d go into radio (and I did). TV was an afterthought. Other than the actual skill of forecasting the weather, there’s nothing I do on TV that I didn’t do on radio first.

This is going to make me sound old.

I went to high school in the same building that housed the New York City Board of Education’s radio station. We were FM back when no one listened to FM. That was mainly because no one owned an FM radio!

WNYE-FM had an eclectic mix of educational programs. It’s tough to visualize today, but teachers in NYC would bring clunky Granco FM radios into their classrooms so the students could listen to, “Let’s Look at the News” or “Young Heroes.” There’s little in the way of TV today that’s equivalent.

Looking for a way to get out of conventional English classes, I became a radio actor for English class credit. I was cast in dozens and dozens of morality plays and historical recreations. I was young Orville Wright, Thomas Jefferson, Jackie Robinson (in that less politically correct time) and lots of kids named Billy.

In the morality plays, I often had lines like, “If I ride my bike over the hill, mom will never know.” By the second act, my arm was in a cast and I was sorry. In these shows, no transgression went unpunished.

All through high school, I listened to radio – listening to the disk jockeys more than the music. The disk jockeys were cool and hip and in control. They talked back to the boss with impunity, or so it seemed to me. They were quick and witty and sarcastic. I wanted to be a disk jockey.

Though I grew up in New York City, my favorite radio station was WKBW in Buffalo. You could only hear “KB” from dusk ’til dawn, but it boomed in like a local at our apartment in Queens.

The nighttime jocks on “KB” were unbelievable. Over time, there were Joey Reynolds, Bud Ballou, Jack Armstrong and others. KB Pulse Beat news with Irv Weinstein, who I’d later know personally, was a tabloid newscast, back when rock stations had to have newscasts.

This is not to say I didn’t listen to WABC in NYC, because I did. There’s little doubt that Dan Ingram is the best disk jockey to ever point a finger at a board operator. He was all the things that the “KB” guys were, but he operated within the more heavily produced WABC universe. At WABC there was a jingle for everything except going to the bathroom… and maybe there was a jingle for that too.

Back on track… must get back on track… where is this going?

In college, I knew I wanted to be like them. I wasn’t as cool as they were. I certainly didn’t have ‘pipes’ (the euphemism for a deep, throaty voice). Still, I wanted to be on the air.

At home, or in the car, I’d practice ‘talking up records.’ That means talking over the instrumental bridge that opens songs before the singing begins, and stopping on a dime, effortlessly, as the singing began. That’s called “hitting vocal,” and I was very good at that.

I started in radio at WSAR in Fall River, MA. I was part time, making $2.50 an hour. Before long, the company I was working for, Knight Quality Stations (some of which weren’t on at night, and none of which had quality), sent me to Florida to be program director at WMUM, aka – “Mother.” I was still making $2.50 an hour or $130 for a 6 day, 48 hour week.

WMUM was an “underground station.” Again, it’s a concept tough to understand today. We played everything without resorting to a playlist. It was some sort of misguided Utopian programming concept that never really took hold anywhere for long. But in 1969, at age 19, “Mother” was an unreal place to be.

We were hip and cool and broadcast from a building located adjacent to the parking lot for Lake Worth, Florida’s beach. From our studio, through the soundproof glass, you could watch the sun rise over the Atlantic Ocean. The beach was always filled with girls in bathing suits.

“Mother” didn’t hold its allure for long. Within 18 months, I had moved on to our sister AM station and then two other stations in the West Palm Beach market.

At age 21, I went to Charlotte, NC. There I did nights on a station that truly was heard from Canada to Florida. During my tenure, we even got mail from Cuba and Scandinavia. WBT was a classic radio station with good facilities, excellent promotion and nurturing management. I didn’t know how good I had it until I left.

I became a radio gypsy, moving to Cleveland and Phoenix and finally Philadelphia. I moved enough to qualify for the U-Haul Gold Card. I worked nights at WPEN in Philadelphia for a few years before moving to mornings.

We were a good AM station, playing oldies, at about the time music on AM was dying… rapidly.

I think I was pretty good at WPEN. If you’ll remember that this aircheck is over 25 years old, and I was more than 25 years younger than I am now, you can listen to it by clicking here. I really enjoyed what I was doing.

After a while we could see things weren’t going well in the ratings. A new program director was brought in to change things. Brandon Brooks, my friend and newsman on the show, came to me. Things were going to change but, “Don’t worry Geoff. They can’t fire you.”

I was gone within two hours.

My radio career never got back to that place. I continued to work, but it wasn’t the same. I finally ended up at WIFI, a top-40 FM station where I constantly worried that I, personally, was leading to the degradation of youth and society.

The scene played over and over again as I answered the hitline. I’d say, “Hello, WIFI.” On the other end, a young voice would respond, “Play, ‘We Don’t Need No Education.'” To me, it was like screeching chalk on a blackboard.

WIFI was my last stop before getting into TV. Still I miss radio nearly each and every day.

This is not to say I want to leave TV. I don’t. But, I do have this fantasy where I do radio in the morning and TV in the evening. That’s why, whenever someone from radio calls and asks me to fill-in or come on the air, I jump at the chance. It’s really an involuntary response.

It’s still in my blood.

The reason I’m writing all of this is because of someone I saw today at a charity event. I was helping present a check and toys to support shelters for abused women at the Verizon Wireless store in North Haven. A man walked up to me and said hello. It was Pete Salant.

I know Pete, though not that well. My sense is, Pete could go one-on-one with me with any bit of radio minutiae. It runs through his blood as well. In fact, with him broadcasting is an inbred thing, as his dad&#185 was a giant when CBS was the “Tiffany Network.”

Pete was known mostly as a radio programmer – and a damned good one. It’s probable, though I really don’t remember anymore, that within Pete’s career, he turned me down for a job… maybe more than once. I know he ran places where I wanted to work. Today, he creates commercials for radio station that run on TV.

It was good to see him. It’s always good to think about radio.

&#185 Pete tells me it was actually his cousin… and not a very close one… who was with CBS: “Dick Salant was my cousin twice-removed (grandfather’s first cousin), not my dad.” I’m going to leave the original posting as is, because I want to try and keep this blog as a contemporaneous record, but add the correction here.

Going to Sleep Worried

I have been looking at the computer models as they come and, and watching the radar in between. I’m wondering if this storm is losing some of its potential to produce snow?

A bad forecast will keep me housebound for a while. There is no upside to being wrong.

My friend John Matthews forecasts in West Palm Beach, FL. At this moment, I am incredibly jealous.

Everyone Knows it’s Windy

An incredibly windy day across the Northeast today. Here in Connecticut, wind gusts over 60 mph in some spots, though the norm was more in the 35-45 mph range.

With all this wind, there were plenty of watches, warnings and advisories out. It was a chance to see how the automated NWS watch/warning page did.

Usually, it’s pretty good. Today, as my friend Bob Hart (safely and warmly in Florida) pointed out, it probably read text about hurricane strength winds, put 2 and 2 together and got 5!

Take a look at this afternoon’s map. Trust me – there was no hurricane.

So… any money left?

Nearly two weeks of online poker is now behind us, with Helaine and me playing a few times a day (I originally had I but I think it should be me).

Tonight, I played 3 – $11- 2 table tournaments. Two losses, including one incredibly quick flameout, and one third place. That’s $36 minus $33 for a $3 net tonight!

All right… Amarillo Slim.

All together, we’re down a bit over $50.

It continues to be fascinating. However, tonight I was chatting with my friend Bob, who was watching me play from Florida, and I realized how easily you could cheat. Except for the really huge tournaments (and we’ve never placed in the money in any of those) you pretty much select your own table.

But, these $11 tournaments take so long for someone to take home $72… would anyone find that worthwhile?