An Accidental Look into My Life in St. Paul

I am ten weeks into a temporary duty trip to LORAN Station St. Paul, Alaska. In this booming metropolis I haven’t had any trouble finding things to do. I’ve kept myself busy with puzzles, books, video games, online poker, and television. I’ve taken loads of pictures and been to many parts of this small island. I’ve even designated myself the driver of the bar crowd a time or two. Recently a good friend of mine sent me a 500 piece PEZ candy puzzle. (I don’t know, she collects PEZ dispensers and likes to torture her friends I guess.) I took a picture of the completed puzzle yesterday and, looking at the photo, I realized how comfortable I’ve grown in this little room of mine over the last 70 days.

In the photo there’s a lovely painting behind the puzzle. It was painted by my daughter Audrey on an 8x8 cotton canvas. It’s of a lovely green house with red tulip-looking-things in the front yard. There’s a bright blue, sunny sky over head, but it looks like there is a dark storm on the horizon. It’s an original. I have many original artworks in the room. One of my other favorites (hanging right above this piece, and also from Audrey) is a coloring with a note that reads “Dear Dad dog that beagle Dachshund. I Miis You”.

To the left in the photo is my snack shelf. I’ve got miniature Heath candy bars (my most-favoritest), some goldfish (on which I’m practicing the art of delayed gratification), chocolates, and a box of fabulous homemade cookies (with bits of Heath in there of course) made by my wife and children. There’s also a shoebox there with some Doritos in it.

Below the snack shelf I have The History of Pirates, a coffee table book my wife got me for my birthday. The camera usually sits on top of it. I’ve used the camera a ton, and hopefully I get around to posting more of the photos to this blog when I get near a decent Internet connection.

To the left of the puzzle box is my desk lamp. On its pedestal are Billy’s Poker Glasses and my card protector. Once he bought these glasses, my uncle Billy wore them every time he played poker. The first time I ever saw them was when he and my dad picked me up from the Vegas airport in 2008. I was in town to watch the two of them compete in the $1,500 buy-in event #2 of the World Series of Poker. Billy was starting in the second field on day 1B of the tournament, and that’s when I learned how important the sunglasses were to him.

Las Vegas has some of the best food for your money that you can find. They definitely have their trap spots where they fleece their customers with $8 drinks and $30 entrees. However, they make enough money from suckers who gamble that they can spread a buffet or a specialty restaurant and a poker player (especially the non-sucker type) can get a great deal and be stuffed by a t-bone at 8am.

The three of us suckers –ER I mean poker players enjoyed just such a meal at the Rio on Billy’s day one. Actually it was our routine for the entire time we were in town. We all stayed in the same room that trip and, after my dad’s woman-like getting ready rituals, we’d eat together. Now this was more of a pact between us rather than just a meal by necessity. You see, a poker player in Vegas might as well not sleep if he gets up early to have breakfast. It’s tough to be functional at an early hour when you’ve rousted yourself up after a cash game until 5am. But we did it each and every morning because above all, we were there to spend time together.

After our meal we went to join the women-folk at their breakfast. My grandma, mom, and sister were all in town as well. They weren’t on the same schedule as us and, let’s be honest, weren’t in the biggest hurry to go watch Billy play for 9 hours on end. Hence the separate breakfasts.

As the dawn of Billy’s poker day closed in we excused ourselves from the table. Billy, sitting next to me, reaches down toward the bench and suddenly jerks his hand and head up like there was a rattlesnake sitting there. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed he looks at my dad. “I lost my poker glasses!” Pure panic was in his voice as he was moments (and a freaking half-mile walk) away from his shot at glory. His dream that was playing in a World Series of Poker event was upon us, and he was a solider without his weapon!

I consider myself a lucky man. Along with the other things that God has blessed me with I’ve done some things that not many other people have ever been able to do. Heck, I’m writing this on St. Paul Island, Alaska. How many people have been here? I’ve also played poker against my uncle when he wasn’t wearing his poker glasses. He whopped me something good, and I’ll never forget that whopping. I knew he didn’t need those glasses. But I also know he needed those glasses. I can safely say that my dad and I, and a select few customers of the Rio that day, are some of the lucky few to ever see my uncle sprint like he was running from a tornado.

I wear the sunglasses nearly every time I play live now. They don’t really fit me great, so I just throw them on my head or my ball cap. I don’t really enjoy playing with sunglasses on anyway. The social aspect of poker is what I enjoy the most, and I hate put barriers in front of that. I also still use the card protector he gave me on that trip. These two items make me smile as I remember that shocked look on my uncle’s face that day.