WTTIF Gets Wood

Hello friends,

Long time no see. I've haven't been blogging at a incredible rate. But this post will have to be made as the official 5 year anniversary post. Which, for the record, is 5 days late. And I forgot to write one last year. Given the recent trend soon anniversary posts will constitute a large percentage of this blogs posts. Last year  I even blogged about how my lack of blogging has affected the number of birthday wall posts that I normally get. But that's not the reason I blog. As I laid out in my introductory post, this blog is to be used for the sole purpose of getting chicks.

But 5 years ago people were just figuring out how to dump things on this big truck we call an internet. Being a blogger was edgy and cool. Haven't any of you seen hackers? It was just like that. I was Dade "Zero Cool" Murphy and my readers were a sexier version of Angelina Jolie. But as the years dragged on I find that having a blog is considered passe. Blogs don't get chicks anymore. Today's babes only want guys with Tumblrs and over 100 twitter followers. I might as well be writing this on my LiveJournal while updating my MySpace.

Another problem with the blog is that content is harder to come by. It used to be that when I had no responsibilities I could go out and do stupid shit and then write (poorly) about it. But with a full-time professional job I have less time to spend doing stupid shit. And I refuse to let this blog divulge into me posting links to interesting things or write about my opinions on politics. There is enough of that on the internet already, thank you very much. And I'm not going to bore everyone by writing about my job.

The other real problem that has contributed to the demise of the blog has been the rise of Twitter. I've had a twitter account since March of 2009. It is interesting to note that it was also the last month that I also blogged more than 7 times. I think the twitters have taken away some of the low level content that once comprised the majority of the filler posts between the long posts. That basically leaves the blog for all the long-winded (boring) stuff like big trips. The problem is that no one wants to hear about other peoples trips unless there are pictures of naked people or you're leaving friends behind in Bloomington Indiana.

The good news is that I do have some posts that I plan on posting in the near future. You can consider this the preantepenultimate post of January 2012. Let's see where this year takes us, and let's pour some out for the last 5.

P.S. I'm really proud of what I did with the title of this post. Very high level stuff.

California Road Trip

Every once in awhile an opportunity comes up to take a road trip simply for the sake of taking a road trip. Usually the purpose of those trips are to drive 3 hours to the nearest Sonic. This weekend I had the opportunity to drive down to California so my girlfriend could get her car smog tested. Apparently due to her insurance rates it makes more sense to drive down to California every other year than to register her car in Washington. I had Friday off work for Veterans day (big ups to my federal employees) and not much else planned so I decided to join her.

The trip got off on the wrong foot. To get to Seattle I usually park at the Indian Casino (fo free) and take a bus to the ferry terminal. When I got to the terminal I realized that I was without my trusty cell phone. This was a serious problem. I've been on many road trips, most of which are written about in this blog. The best tool on a road trip is the iPhone. It's as useful for getting directions as it is for settling silly debates that arise during long drives.

*Side note: My first thought when I realized that I didn't have my phone was that it would be really cool to tweet all the things that I couldn't do over the course of the trip due to the lack of iPhone. I immediately realized that the first tweet would be "Can't tweet without my phone".

My more pressing problem was that I had neglected to tell the GF what ferry I would be on and when she should pick me up. Since I don't carry around an address book at all times I couldn't have even called her on a pay phone. It really made me realize how useless I felt without my phone. I've touched on my generations dependence on technology before but I couldn't even perform a simple task like arraigning a pick up from the ferry without my phone. Luckily I had my laptop, and was able to email her iPhone to let her know when I would arrive but I still felt pretty useless waiting at the terminal not knowing if she was coming or not.

On Friday we left Seattle at 5 AM. As the old adage goes "Some people just aren't cut out for life on the road". I was that people, and instantly fell asleep until we got to Portland around 9 AM. We made good time and got to Califorinia around 2 PM, we went to the first auto shop over the border and got the smog test and paperwork along with a very awkward post-smog-test hug from the inspector. With that complete we were on to the next portion of our adventure.

My girlfriends grandparents used to live in Medford, Oregon just across the border from California. Her grandmother was a hoarder to such an extent that her grandparents had two houses completely full of random stuff including every item ever sold on an infomercial. I could have walked away with a Big Mouth Billy Bass and a NuWave Oven if I had wanted. Her grandparents have both been moved to homes 2 years ago, and her parents have taken 6 trips to clear out their houses and filled up 7 large dumpsters. This was to be the last trip where they would clear out the rest of the house and take the valuables down to California.

Her parents had arrived 5 days before to start the final cleanup. Among the items that we were to be packing up was a collection of over 100 unopened Barbie Dolls that had been growing for over 5 decades. Everything in the house smelled real funky. But after a few hours on Saturday morning we had everything done. We then started our drive home. But before we could get too far we had to stop to watch the Michigan game.

We chose a sports bar in the dusty town of Medford. It was an interesting place to say the least. I wish I could have taken a picture of it but alas I was phone-less. The sort of place where patrons would come in order two Budweiser's, drink them and leave. The bartender seemed to know everyone that came in except us. This one feller comes in and sits next to me at the bar and orders a double well vodka and a bud back. He finished the double and then he orders another single well vodka. Finishes that, chugs the rest of his beer and leaves. Couldn't have been in the place more that 10 minutes. We finished watching Michigan win and then got on the road. We stayed the night in Eugene, and mad it back to Seattle this afternoon.

Not a bad 3-day 1,000 mile adventure. Next stop is Florida on Tuesday.

Blogging Book Report

I just finished reading John U Bacon's epic tome Three and Out about the Rich Rodriguez years as Head Coach of the Michigan Football Team. It left me with mixed feelings.

It was great in that it provided insight to some of the questions that had been lingering around the program the past few years, but it didn't quite deliver on all fronts. I was hoping for more meat between the buns. I think part of the problem is that Bacon was unable to get interviews with Carr, Martin and Coleman. And I can only imagine how tight-lipped that Carr interview would have actually been.

The book was hard to read knowing just how frustrating the story would end up. I had put that 2009 Illinois game behind me and tried not to look back, and having to relive that game was tough. Going back and having to remember being in the Big House for the loss to Toledo was another tough one. Three MSU and OSU losses weren't fun to remember either. It made me go back and wonder how things may have been different had one or two small things had gone the other way. The one that really gets me is the Antonio Bass injury. It's impossible to say, but I'd like to think that he is one player that could have really made a difference when Rodriguez arrived. He would have been a mobile senior quarterback perfect for the Rodriquez offense in 2008. A major upgrade over the Sheridan/Threet combo, I think he could have won us a few games and put the entire program on a different trajectory. But Butterfly effect and all, maybe with him we win the 2006 National Championship and Lloyd doesn't retire. Hard thing to predict, but it still sits in my mind.

My favorite part of the book was seeing the players behind the facade of the program. I liked the stories about how the players saw those years and what their views on the team were. It was also interesting to see people I knew and hung out with get mentioned in the book, though never in much detail.

Tomorrow night John Bacon is going to be in Seattle doing a talk and Q&A type thing. I've been thinking about the various questions I want to ask him. The one that's really puzzling me is the minimal mention of Justin Feagin in the book. Feagin was only mentioned as a high risk recruit when they were discussing the Demar Dorsey fiasco (which is another thing I want to ask about). But I clearly recall that there was some very negative backlash when he got kicked of the team for setting up a bad cocaine deal and then having the guy he set it up for try to burn down West Quad. I wonder if that just got left on the cutting room floor, or if there was more to it that only someone with access would have seen. It would also answer my questions on how a players dismissal affects the coaching staff, player, and team. The Boubacar Cissoko dismissal was mentioned in the book, but Bacon never talked about how that affected the team to see one of their own leave the program like that.

The Oregon Trip: The Great Ruse of 2011

It all started last Monday. I was sitting at work bullshitting with Kyle, the fellow Michigan Grad who I had help recruit. We had just gone to the Washington-Cal game the weekend before and had been talking about other games we wanted to go to. We both agreed that an Oregon Ducks game was near the top of our list and decided to take a look at their schedule. With other commitments looming in the weeks ahead we realized the our only opportunity would be the game that was coming up on Thursday. We looked at each other and asked "Can we really do this?" and then scrambled to open our Outlook calendars. With a little rescheduling we had cleared off Thursday afternoon and Friday and then told our boss what we were planning.

When we left work on Thursday morning we really had no concrete plans. We had lined up tickets but that was about it. We had a tent and a few sleeping bags, but much less in the way of arraignments. We drove all afternoon, stopping near Portland for Wendy's and filling our cooler with ice and beer. We rolled into Eugene and parked our car near the campus. We got out, shotgunned a beer, put 12 more in a plastic bag and walked towards campus. At Oregon, all of the campus is on the South Side of the Willamette river and the stadium is on the other side surrounded by large fields of tailgaters. Students walk along a short trail before taking a bend in the trail and seeing this:

We sat with a bunch of alumni and told them how we always wanted to go to a game here, and how we remember Oregon coming into Ann Arbor in 2007 and giving us a whipping behind the legs of Dennis Dixon. They were pretty good guys and we had some fun with the people around us. It may have helped that we had a couple of beers in the ol' belly by this point. They say it never rains at Autzen but it sure seemed to be that night. There are two interesting notes that are stuck in my mind from Autzen. 1) There is a ridiculous amount of corporate advertising in the stadium. Even the DuckVision has ads on it all the time. 2) They pumped up the crowd before the game with a montage set to the song Lightning Crashes by Live. It's a song about dead babies.

The view from our seats

The game was pretty good in the first half with Cal actually winning at halftime. But in the second half the Ducks came out ready to play. A few times the crowd got really loud and I could understand why Lloyd Carr called Autzen the loudest stadium he's ever coached in. For only 60,000 people they sure can make some noise. Overall the game experience at Autzen was generally positive and exciting.

After the game Kyle and I were hungry and decided to get some burritos. Without any alternatives we decided to drive out of town and sleep at a campground for the night. On the way there I ran over a possum in the Camaro.

The next morning we woke up and packed our things while discussing our plan for the day. We did consider the fact that we were halfway to San Francisco, and that we had Monday off work for Columbus Day so it was in the realm of possibility. But eventually we set out for Corvallis to eat breakfast and see what there would be to do in Oregon. We walked around the campus of Oregon State in Corvallis and even made a friend who informed us that Delta Upsilon was basically the "Frattiest Frat on campus". He also asked if we "wanted to party". It was only 11:30 in the morning, and at that moment be both dearly missed college.

Before leaving town we decided to stop by Reser Stadium. We walked right in and had ourselves a look around. We brought some adult beverages with us and decided why not shutgun a beer on the field.

Note all the advertising

After Oregon State we continued our tour of Oregon by heading towards the coast. We made it just in time to go on the tour of the Rogue Brewery in Newport. I've always liked breweries and enjoyed tours, but I found Rogue to be a little unique. Their only brewery and entire world headquarters is located inside of an old boat dry-storage shed, which is sitting in the parking lot of a marina. There is no lobby and you walk right into the fermentation tanks. It looked like a mexican meth lab built overnight in some shabby building. But boy is their beer tasty. After the tour we decided to head up the coast and towards Portland.

Me outside the Rogue Brewery on the Oregon Coast

This is where the story gets good.

Kyle had never been to Portland, and I absolutely love Portland so I wanted to give him a good taste of the city and to go out and get hammered. Our only problem was that we had no accommodations and wouldn't be able to drive to a campsite. That's when we came up with our greatest plan to date. The Occupy Wall Street protests had spread nationwide and in every major city there were groups camped out downtown. All we needed to do was to infiltrate the Occupy Portland movement and fake our way to free camping right by some of the best bars.

We found the park that they were occupying and we set up our tent in one of the last free patches of grass. On the drive into Portland we spent most of our time discussing how utterly stupid the protests were and created back stories for ourselves. When we introduced ourselves to our tent neighbors we said we worked for a small metals company in Seattle that supplied Boeing. We figured that telling the Anti-Goverment protesters that we worked for the Government may be a bad idea. The first protester we met welcomed us to the start of the "next great american revolution". I agreed, trying to keep the sarcasm from dripping into my words.

Portland is a city that in known for it's free speech laws, interesting characters (hippies and weirdo), and transients. It's the characters that give the city it's style and one of the things I like best about it. Well, many of the people that joined the occupy Portland movement look, dress and talk a whole lot different than the clean-cut, north-face wearing, iPhone 4 owning duo that are Kyle and Brian. But support is support, so we were welcomed freely.

After we setup our tent, word spread around that there would be a general assembly in 10 minutes. Of course we went, there could be useful information regarding the availability of "shit-buckets" for bodily needs. The first 20 minutes was spent going over the hand signals that we would be using to communicate and gain consensus. For an unorganized, leaderless protest there sure were a lot of sub-committees, action items and agenda topics. Great for a group who wants to end bureaucratic practices. The biggest issue facing the Occupy Portland movement seemed to be who got to be in charge of the Occupy Portland movement. After a while of waiting to get to the "shit-bucket" agenda item, I decided to break away and become the leader of the Occupy Chipotle's Bathroom Movement. It was an overwhelming success.

After that Kyle and I decided to hit some of the best bars in Portland. We started at the Barcade, where I proceeded to spank him up and down the field in Madden 99. Then over to the Thirsty Lion where the U-M Alumni Association meets to watch the games. We talked about sticking around Portland to watch the Michigan game the next day but then realized it was a 4pm game. We ended the night checking out some of Portland's finer entertainment and grabbing some Street Cart food which Portland is famous for.

We wandered back to camp pretty drunk and ready to prod the revolution. I decided to jump in with both feet and gauge the sentiments of the crowd. It was 2AM and the camp was arush with activity. The camp library was still open, and the chefs has a pretty tasty hobo stew cooked up. Kyle wandered off to bed while I argued for the need to end corn-subsidies. The entire thing cracked me up, but I managed to keep a pretty straight face. After talking to some people about my idea to fix the trade deficit a few of the protesters said that I should start a camp newspaper. I started to consider the thought on my way back to the tent before I realized how ridiculous it was.

When we woke up the next morning we were hungover and realized that our ruse had worked. We had actually faked joined a nationwide protest so we could go out and get completely blitzed and then camp in a city park for free. We got out of our tent and realized that the park had been fenced in. The Portland Marathon was that morning fences had been erected around the park. We quickly and quietly packed up our tent and went to leave. On the way out I managed to get a picture of the camp.

The camp. You can see the fences around the park.

We drove back to Seattle and completed our 3-day, 700 mile tour of Oregon. When we got back we went to the bar despite terrible hangovers and watch Michigan come back to beat Northwestern. The best part of the trip was that we never had a real plan worked out, yet everything seemed to work out. We flew by the seat of our pants, never knowing what lay ahead. Now when our clearances are up for renewal we'll have a pretty funny story to tell the investigating agent when they ask if we've ever protested against the government.

Night Moves

Whenever I come back into Ann Arbor I like to listen to a couple of my favorite tracks that remind me of Ann Arbor. Usually I listen to some Postal Service because it takes me back to my days in Markley Hall, Timaland's Apologize reminds me of Sophomore year living at 510 Benjamin, some Since U Been Gone takes me back to the wild tailgate days, and I usually listen to some Bob Seger because I'm pretty sure all his songs are about being an adolescent in Ann Arbor.

So with those songs playing on my ipod I flew back to Ann Arbor on the red eye Thursday night. The music really didn't matter much though because I had taken an Ambien before the flight immediately passed out until I was awoken by the stewardess violently shaking me in an attempt to wake me a few minutes before landing. It was 6 AM EDT, 3 AM PDT. A few hours later I would finally get someone to come pick me up at the airport and take me back to Ann Arbor.

I dropped my stuff off at the apartment I was crashing at and along with the 5 that flew in the day before did the most logical thing possible: go straight to Benny's. Benny's was the hungover diner of choice during my last two years of college and you'd be surprised how many people you would see at Rick's at 2 AM and then back at Benny's around 11. Being us, we were immediately seated at the corner booth (Campus Legend). I obligatorily ordered a Coney Dog and a Saganaki. It was good to be back home.

That afternoon I went to meet up with two of my former box house brethren. On the way there I noticed something amazing. There is now Buffalo Wild Wings on State Street and Washington. I have no idea when it was put in, but I sure wish it was there when I was a student! It's amazing how somethings change so quickly. I'm pretty sure it was an Olga's kitchen when I went to school.

It appeared that every grad from the last 5 years was back in town for the game. That is, except my intrepid co-worker who got to the airport and realized that he had booked flights for the wrong weekend. We decided to get to the bars early because of how many people were back for the game. Zola and I showed up at Charley's and were immediately offered the lounge (Campus Legend). We eventually moved to a regular table and spent most of the eve of the first night game in Michigan Stadium history doing shots and chugging brews. Conversing about the good times, and the better times.

I woke up on the floor of the apartment on Saturday morning at the ridiculous early hour of 8AM. But it was gameday and we had tailgating to do. Fortunately our buddies had spent the previous week planning a perfect tailgate. 15 pounds of pulled pork, 100 burgers and dogs, a sound system, generators, a tent, multiple beer pong tables, cornhole, a television, 6 coolers, they even managed to get their hands on an Excursion for transportation purposes. Unfortunately, our planned tailgate location - the U of M golf course - would not be opened on account of heavy rains. As a resourceful campus legend, I made a call and secured a tailgate location at my younger sister's house at Benjamin and Packard. A much better tailgating locale if you ask me. The girls at the house had heard some of the stories from the box house and requested that no pizza's get nailed to the wall like they did at the box house. We agreed.

We got to the house and set up shop around 10AM and soon after went to go pick up some kegs. I walked into Campus Corner and the first thing I hear is "Brian!". It was the owner of the liquor store that I had befriended in college and apparently as a Campus Legend, I had not been forgotten despite not living in Ann Arbor for 2 years. This wouldn't be the only time this would happen on the trip. Several people came up to me and said they recognized me from my wild college days.

The tailgate was a wild blur. Lot's of drinking. Playing beer pong and corn hole. Doing several rounds of Thunderstruck and generally doing all the things we did on gameday when we were undergrads. But this time it was spread out over 10 hours. It was something that was foreign to all of us, and no one really seemed to know if it was possible to pace ourselves for a game like this. I spent some time going to other tailgates. I think I ran into 8 people from my high school. Because we had plenty of beer and food, eventually most of our friends ended up at our tailgate. Kegs were tapped and new ones were rolled back in recycle bins from campus corner.

The tailgate, with my old house in the background.

At one point all the Russell kids were there and we took our annual Christmas card photo. This wasn't it.

The hours rolled on. Things like this started to happen.

That's why they call him Bodyshot!

Before the game we decided to take a quick group picture with our hostess.

Before the game we all slapped the bag and chugged Andre. We got our last cups of keg beer and cleaned up a little. Then it was gametime.

On the walk to the stadium I somehow struck of a conversation with the Mayor of South Lyon. Our topic was Mr. Dave Brandon, who just happened to grow up with and still talk to Mr. Mayor. It was by far one of the most interesting conversation I had during the weekend. We made it into the stadium and down to our seats and got checked out our view.

The game experience was unreal. It was nothing like any game I had been to at the Big House before. The fans just seemed so much more into the game. The best part is that we were right in the endzone that Michigan was driving towards during the 4th quarter and all those touchdowns were right in front of us. For the game, I can't do it justice, but I'm sure this video can.

The game was so crazy that after the final TD the man in front of us cheered so intensely that his wedding ring flew off his finger and landed a few rows away. Only in Tuscaloosa after the Iron Bowl had I seen fan wait in their seats so long after a game had ended. It was like no one had anywhere to go, and why would they, because the party was here anyways. It was mayhem.

I don't think this will go down as the best game I've ever seen in the Big House, but it will go down as the most exciting. I'm thinking a ranking might be a good next blog post. I loved every minute of it, except for, you know, the first 3 quarters. But deep down I always knew we would come back and make a game out of it.

It was 1 AM by the time we left the stadium, too late to go to the bars. Everyone was amped up from the win but at the same time exhausted from the extensive tailgating and emotional game. It was a weird feeling. We went back to my sisters house to drink some of the last keg and try to rally. The climax of the rally was us all walking to Packard Pub and then deciding we would rather get some Jimmy John's. Half of us passed out on the ride home.

Sunday morning everyone woke up and asked "did that really happen?" Most of our voices were hoarse and we all looked like garbage. We watched some of the Gameday that we had recorded and then decided to get some food. Early in the afternoon my Sisters picked me up to go meet with Grandma Sunshine. We had a nice lunch before Julie and I flew home. On the way to the airport I reached in my bag and felt something unusual. It was a small knife that I had put in for my camping trip to eastern Washington the weekend before. I had been very close to unknowingly trying to sneak a knife onto a plane on the 10th anniversary of September 11th. I'm sure it wouldn't have helped out when they found it right next to the book on the Taliban that I was reading. I left it with my sister to mail back to me, but the really scary part is that I had flown out to A2 with it in my bag. It didn't do much to inspire confidence in the abilities of the TSA.

After a long trip I made it home and went to bed at midnight. It was 6 hours before my alarm clock was set to go off. But as I lay in bed, I figured that there was nothing that would make me not want to go back to the only place I've ever felt truly at home.

My New Favorite Hobby

Back in May I took a trip down to Vegas to meet up with some friends. Over the course of the trip I did pretty well at the tables which was mostly due to luck. When I got home I decided to get the blackjack books off the shelf and give them another read. Since then I've been trying to make trips every weekend to play. Part of it is nice to get out and drive to places I would never otherwise go. And to be honest, I'm doing pretty well. So when one of my friends asked me if I wanted to go camping this weekend my first thought was 'how can I make this into a gambling trip'. On Friday afternoon I withdrew $1,000 from my bankroll, packed up some gear and drove out to the campground. We were camping in the Olympic National Forest which is only about 40 minutes from where I live. Staying up late drinking and then sleeping on the ground isn't probably the best choice for accommodations the evening prior to a gambling junket, but why should I let my 'second job' get in the way of my life.

Actually, that brings up a good point. Why should I let my first job get in the way of my life? Wouldn't it be great if I could just quit my job and spend my life driving around the country playing blackjack and visiting my friends. I have about 100 friends and family spread out across this country so I could visit each for 3-4 days a year and live on the road playing Blackjack for gas money. To do that I'd need to A) be good at blackjack and B) have a serious bankroll. Neither of which I have yet achieved.

So I woke up this morning and packed up my tent and hit the road. First stop was straight down US 101. A neat side note about US 101 is that since it hooks around the Olympic Peninsula the to get to the northern terminus of the road, you actually have to go south for the last 100 miles or so. But that last part is some of the most scenic. The road hugs the foothills of the Olympic mountains and runs right along the Hood Canal. You can stop at oyster stands along the side of the road of some fresh ones right from the source.

I continued inland towards Shelton - A lumber mill town that appears to have seen more prosperous days. I stopped at the Safeway and bought an apple and a peach to eat just outside the store. There were lots of people just loitering around looking shady. I decided to keep moving, I had to get to the tables.

The first casino I stopped at was Little Creek casino about 10 miles south of Shelton. Somewhat in the middle of nowhere, this Indian casino resort was the nicest I went to today. It was just remodeled last October and has opened a championship golf course this year. The only bad thing may be that a girl about my age died there last week.

Little Creek Casino

My strategy was to attack 4 casinos on today's junket. I'd planned to walk into each one with $400 and walk out with either $200 or $600. So even if I had terrible luck at the first three, I would still have $400 to win it all back at the last stop.

My luck didn't start out so hot at Little Creek. The 80 year old gentleman who was chain smoking next to me seemed to be getting all the good cards on his $5 table minimum bets. The smoking didn't bother me too much, I already smelled like a campfire. After an hour or so I was down to $200 and ready to leave.

I had stopped there because it was on the way to the better casinos. The next casinos wouldn't be as nice, but they offered better rules. I'd rather sit in a basement and double my splits than have to endure not hitting 9's against dealer 6's. So onward.

To get to the next joint I had to travel to the end of US 101 which terminates in Olympia, our State Capitol. It was exactly 2 years ago today that I arrived in Washington on my move out to the Pacific Northwest. I spent most of that drive listening to Rancid sing about being on the highway back to Olympia, WA. Today, I cranked that up as I made the wide turn and the Capitol building came into view.

I drove through the (pretty cool) city and decided to visit the capitol. I present the dirtiest rotunda in the union:

I also found out that instead of a state supreme court building, Washington chose to go with a "Temple of Justice" which I insist is as silly sounding as it is impressive.

After my short sightseeing trip I continued up I-5 and to a place called Hawk's Prairie. I settled in at a decent table with two other patrons. The first was a lady who bet big and probably spent $60 an hour tipping the dealer. The other guy was wearing a MMA shirt and was an Atlanta Falcons fan. We seemed to get along pretty well and it was a pretty fun visit. But it was about business too. The first hour I was pretty much even. The second hour I started to hit some big hands. I got a good lead going and kept riding it. By the time I decided to move on I was up $300 at the joint. But after my poor showing at the first place it meant I was really up only $100.

At this point I'd like to note that I have asked without luck at every casino I have been to for a Coors Original. So far most cocktail waitresses act like they've never even heard of the Banquet Beer. I always grudgingly settle for the Silver Bullet.

The next casino was a micro-casino in Tacoma. The non-Indian casinos in the state aren't allowed to have slot machines and most of them aren't much bigger than a couple of pits, a bar and a cashier. This one tends to get most of their business from soldiers stationed at the nearby army base. The other main customer base is the Vietnamese. For whatever reason the Vietnamese love to gamble. Seattle with it's high Asian population has a large contingent of Asian gamblers. The funny thing is that only the woman seem to really gamble a lot, the men usually aren't even around. And the Vietnamese are notoriously superstitious. Since many of them gamble lots of them end up working in the Casinos. That's the interesting situation I found myself in at my third casino.

I'm sitting at a full table of me and 6 middle aged Vietnamese women. The dealer is as a Vietnamese woman, they are all speaking in Vietnamese and I'm right in the middle. It was an interesting sight, but I was sitting there first and at the time the cards were pretty hot, so what was I to do? I kept playing but the cards tapered off. I hit a $125 payout on a lucky ladies side bet that invigorated me but in the end I found myself walking out the door with $200 less than I walked in.

In the 6 hours after I had left the campground I had managed to lose $100. This was pretty dashing to any hopes that I could turn blackjack into a career path. But I had one last trick up my sleeve. I actually had to pass my next casino on the way to the last one. I had purposely done this because I knew no matter how bad things were I could make money at the last casino.

Since I hadn't lost much so far and this casino had slightly higher table minimums I decided to take $500 into this last casino. I found my usual table empty and proceeded to make it my proverbial bitch. I think I won $250 in my first 20 minutes there. Things slowed down a little after that but one thing remained constant: me winning. There are two reasons why it is so easy to make money at this casino. The first is that the deal nearly every card in their double deck games making it easy to predict what cards are left in the deck at the end. The second is that they have some of the best rules of anywhere around. After my second Coors light the cards got hot again. Before the pit boss could notice my chip stacks rising I quickly colored up. As the dealer counted out $1,020 in chips the pit boss quietly stated "I'm going to be in deep shit for this one". I had to keep a straight face until I was out of the casino. With those winnings I was up $420 and ready to head home. But not before I had a victory Jimmy John's.

Another interesting side note about the last casino. It is also staffed mostly by Vietnamese but the ones at this joint have terrific names. I had a dealer whose legal name is "Mom" and another whose name is "Dong". Just another reason to play there is getting to yell "HIT ME DONG!"

It was a pretty great day but even though I made money I don't get to go out tonight and spend it all. Everything goes back into the bankroll but the feeling of getting to drive home a winner and rub $100 bills all over myself makes it worth it. So 200 miles and 26 hours after leaving home I made it back home from a successful outing. I'll leave you with a map of my trip.

My favorite business card

I hope that when I'm a parent I'm as awesome as their parents must have been.