Friday, September 23, 2005

Rita comes


Here it comes, 8 hours from landfall.
Rita - "She's a vicious life-sucking bitch from which there is no escape."
Ok, so that was Dottie in Armageddon (1998), and it's only a Category 3 'Cane now so let's not get too excited. The freeway right in front of my Conroe home (not to be confused with my Austin apartment) was shown on CNN last night. It's taking like 12 hours to go 45 miles.
Yeesh.
All those people on the run, and their running right by my family. Nothing comforting about that thought, but my family insists they're prepared and expect only 75-80 MPH winds.
I'm all alone in Austin. My roommate headed to San Angelo to see his family. In the unliekly event the weather gets ugly here, I've got my water and batteries. Ok, make that two bottles of gatorade, fruit-flavored water and some double-As. I'd be screwed.

Dallas is freaking out for some reason, and I hear they're out of gas. I guess they just felt like panicking about something.

School tomorrow is canceled here. Yes, by tomorrow I mean Saturday. Baylor and TAMU had the good sense to cancel classes today, but we're hardcore here. We went to school despite today's gorgeous weather.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

A Katrina Story

I wrote this for a calss and thought I'd share. It's for a feature writing class.

By Ryan Killian

Dottie Harris lifts a hand to heaven and looks upward as she sings. One of a quartet, they lead the congregation in praise and worship. The four musicians outnumber the congregation two to one. This is Sunday afternoon church at the Austin Convention Center. Torn from their homes by Hurricane Katrina, Gerard McDougle and Cornelius Bottley sit and listen.

The pastor, David Bush sits with his arm around Cornelius. Over the last few days the two have become friends and now they talked in hushed tones and even break into muted laughter. The music provides a backdrop for their conversation.

Charlie Tuttle, a bespectacled man in jeans and work boots plays an acoustic guitar. A new song starts with him singing lead. His tenor rises above the guitars.

“It’s dark and lonely and the path is unclear,” he sings.

The relevance is lost on no one.

Cornelius once lived in New Orlean’s 9th Ward. At the age of 55, the retired construction worker planned on coasting through the rest of his life. He thought he had it made.

On August 29, 2005 his plans were interrupted. Katrina hit the city as a Category 5 storm and Cornelius found himself the lone swimmer in a submerged community. For two days they suffered with no food and water. He decided he had to do something.

So he swam.

He swam for seven blocks until he found someone in a boat. After explaining his community’s predicament, the two broke into a store and gathered as much canned goods as they could. He then returned to his neighbors.

For four days this was the routine. Cornelius braved the water, consciously knowing he was risking his life for people he didn’t even know.

“I always thought that was a sucker’s play,” he said. “Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t risk my life for nobody that’s not my blood.”

But the horror he witnessed motivated him to action. Despite his courageous actions, he wonders if could have done more to help. The dead haunt him.

“I don’t sleep at night; I can hear them scream,” he said.

One of his neighbors had nine children. After the storm, he saw her with seven of them. She explained that her sister had come and gotten the other two.

“I knew in my heart that they were gone,” he said.

He said it would have been impossible for the two to have been evacuated before the storm.

The children weren’t faceless. He’d been accosted by them countless times. Every day they’d ask him for candy, and he was an easy mark always ready to provide.

“I can hear those two hollering in my heart,” he said.

David, the family pastor at High Point Fellowship in Cedar Park, steps in front of the seats to deliver his sermon. Thirty-seven seats overlooking Cesar Chavez Street in downtown Austin and three of them are occupied. Don Harris, an elder, sits in the back row with Gerard.

David stands as close as he can, one foot rests on a chair in the front row as he preaches about having faith in hard times. The congregation may be small, but he knows that he is needed.

“Where else would a Christian be?” he asked rhetorically before the service started.

He said the first few days were packed but now, attendance has tapered off. But as long as Cornelius and Gerard need him, he’ll be there, every day.

“God brings me out here,” he said.

With the sermon delivered, the musicians start playing again. They follow their pastor’s lead and move in close. The legs of their music stands are under the front row of chairs. After three songs, the Pastor asks them to surround Cornelius and Gerard. They lay hands on the men and each other and form a circle of prayer. Inside the circle, affirmations and praises to God are whispered as Bill Lee, a musician, prays. The seven are huddled tightly beseeching God for faith and peace.

When the last amen is uttered the circle remains. Gerard and Cornelius are invited to church; Charlie says if they need a ride, it will be there.

Gerard, who seemed distant when he arrived now smiles and compliments the quartet. He asks for a CD and calls them the best he’s ever heard.

He didn’t plan on being here today. He didn’t even know about the service.

“I was going to Wal-Mart, and I was just drawn to here,” he said. “I guess the Holy Spirit drew me here.”

Walking past the Convention Center, he saw the doors. Yellow caution tape was stretched over them. He ignored the tape, breaking through it as he opened the door.

Then he heard the singing.

“I got DVDs to play… this was much better,” Gerard said.

He found the source of the music and sat down. They were merely warming up, but he stayed.

Forty-seven years old, Gerard was staying with his mom after being made to leave New Orleans’ Central Business District area. He’d been in Austin 14 days, but this was the first time he’d found himself at church. Almost embarrassed, Gerard revealed that the music had caused him to break into tears. The invitations to visit the church were well-received.

“I’ll be checking in,” he said.

Meanwhile, Cornelius stands with Pastor David and speaks quietly. The last few days have meant a lot to him. By his own admission he was “all broke up” when he met the pastor. Things are turning around now.

“It opened up a door in my heart,” he said.

Now he’s coming out of the sudden, deep depression he’s been mired in since Katrina struck. His plans to live at ease for the rest of his years have been literally washed away. The screams still echo in his dreams. The memories will never leave him. But he plans to rebuild, to start anew. His presence in church is the first step, and perhaps the most important.

He points out repeatedly that he comes from a rough background.

“I’m not no Christian,” he said. “I’m not no angel.”

But he’s coming to see Pastor David as often as he can. He thinks the pastor can help him in his search.

“I’m just trying to find a little peace,” he said.



In other news, I've recovered $400 of the $500 slide, but have been playing very little. I've placed in 3 of my last 4 PS SnGs, which was nice.
Hurricane Rita could be inbound, and my family lives just north of Houston, as you can imagine, that place is going crazy. Wal*Mart is sold out of water, most fruits and veggies, all kinds of non-perishable food.
I guess people learned from Katrina, and they'd rather be safe than sorry.

Friday, September 09, 2005

Another New Car...

Yes, I'm in possession of another car. Supposedly, it's mine. That's what they told me at the mpound.
Curious yet?
(If not, I suck.)

I was at work Wenesday, and my cell phone rang. I didn't recognize the phone number and answered to see who it was.
"Hi, this is the Austin Police Department," came a female voice.

My first thoughts were predictable. "Damn, I meant to pay that parking ticket yesterday. They get on you quick in this town..."

But that wasn't it. Instead, the woman was aksing if I had a friend named Kyu (I do). And if I knew where he was (In Korea.)
I gave her this information and let her know he'd be there for a couple of years, and his family also resides. there.

Then she told me a story about how Kyu's 2003 Honda Accord was abandoned on 41st street, tagged as such by the APD, and eventually impounded.

Sehr interessant.

But what's that got to do with me?

"Well it's scheduled to be sold in an auction tomorrow. Because you're his only friend that we can locate, you can come down here and sign a 'Righ ot Possession" form to claim the car. Otherwise it's gone."

...

Ok...

"How much will that cost me?"

"You only have to pay impound fees," she says. Then she asks somebody to run the numbers. I sit in my cubicle feeling disoriented.

"$530" she said, awakening from my stupor.

I tell her to hold on, let me get in touch with my parents and she said she'd hold off the auction. 15 minutes later I was off the phone with my mom, and of course I was getting the car.

Within an hour I was at the impound filling out a form with my friend Dan who was nice enough to drive me there. 45 minutes after I got there, I was driving of in an '03 Accord.

I plan on getting it legal to drive, license, registration, etc. but when my friend comes back I'll turn it over to him, unless he was really trying to abandon it.

It's the damndest thing. the car was loaded with his stuff, suitcases of clothes, a tuxedo, and open bag of sunflower seeds.
I threw that last item away; I hope he doesn't mind.

Saturday, September 03, 2005

Austin Bloggers tournament

Thanks to Adam Seyer for hosting the Austin Bloggers' tournament at his house today. It was very nice and very well-run.
The buy-in was $30 and we had three tables of players. Several of them were Austin bloggers. I'll try to get a comprhensive list of who attended.
Anyway, I started out playing very well.
The starting stacks were 1500 and we had 10/20 blinds.
I was dealer first hand and had A6o. It folded to me, and I raised. The SB, a player who admitted rarely playing, called the raise. He checked the Q-hi flop and I made a continuation bet of 100. He called, but didn't seem to like it. After he checked the turn, I bet 200 and he gave up his hand, thankfully.

Had this been further in the tournament, I would not have tried this. He was a bit of a calling station, and did not like to be bluffed.

I won another hand after raising with 88 from EP. ScottMc called, and I bet the flop. He called and we checked it down; 8s were good.

I steadily chipped up, but had no huge hands as play progressed. At the break we'd only lost 3 playes and my stack was healthy. But fortune quit smiling on me, as far as poker was concerned.
(As far as college football was concerned, fortune was grinning and laughing with me. TCU knocked off OU in Norman during the break. Clemson beat A&M later in the day.)

I stole some blinds at my new table, and stay even. With blinds at 50/100 I had close to 1900 chips probably, and raised it up with TT. Our host was in the SB and fairly short. He pushed, and I quickly called. He showed A8, and the river was an A. After that my focus started to wane.

I was around 10xBB and if I busted soon I could easily make it to the Texas/UL-Lafayette game. A few minutes later I announced this to the table--a -EV statement if you can ever make one, especially because I wasn't lying.

A few hands later, a deep stack limped. Scoot had moved back to my table, and he limpd as well. I had 12xBB and pushed from the big blind with 68o. Now this play was fine, except my stack was possibly a little too deep to do it with. I showed eventually, after they folded which got a funny reaction but ruined my image.

With around 15xBB, I made my big mistake. The LAG player on my left limped (we were down to 10 at this time). Scott called in the SB, and I looked down to see AQs. I popped it to 400, and both called.

That was my first mistake, I should have really comitted myself to the pot with the raise, and made it bigger. The flop wasn't exactly ragged, and I felt like pushing on it would look phony. So mistake 1 set me up for mistake two; I checked the flop. Both players checked behind me and a 7 hit the turn.

I decided to bet weak, hoping that it would like like I had slowplayed the flop and was looking for a call. I bet 450, and got a call from the lag player. I shut it down. We checked the river, and he showed A7. I think I threw up in my mouth a little.

Scott had flopped second pair, but had folded to the turn action and said he would have folded to a push on the flop.

I really should have pushed that flop...

A few hands later, I got a call from an old family friend Aaron. He was telling me that he had an extra ticket to the game. With this my concentration was shot. Sure, I had a ticket, but I only know one guy in my group and the seats aren't supposed to be that good. Now I had a chance to go to the game with an old friend. I pushed pre-flop with Q8 while I was on the phone with him, looking to bust but no one called. That was the last hand of the break, and I decided to give my chips to a busted player. For the first time in my life, I cut a tourney short. Sure I only had 900 chips and the blinds were about to be 75/150, but I was a double away from being a force.
No worries.

Kind of a shame to leave such a great game, but staying would have been worse. My mind was not in the game, and my play had gotten borderline embarrassing.

The game was awesome. We had to walk 20 minutes from my apartment to the stadium, but it wasn't bad. Besides Richmond McGee's 3 missed PATs, Texas looked awesome. The final score was 60-3, meaning Texas covered the 39.5-point spread.

I don't do sports gambling, but am on of 6 pick 'em participants for the Daily Texan. We had 5 games tp oick, and we picked straight and then against the spread. I did pretty well, but unfortunately I didn't pick Texas to cover.
I also totally missed the Pitt vs ND game.
I nailed the Colorado Colorado St game, picking the Buffs to win,, but not to cover the scant 3.5 point spread; they won by 3.
I picked Clemson to "upset" Texas A&M and they did, by one. I guess it was a push as far as the spread was concerned.
I picked Georgia to beat Boise St and cover the spread, and that's exactly what happened.
Not bad, a total of three wrong, both ND vs Pitt possibilites and the UT vs UL-Laf spread pick.

In other news, I got Matt Matros's book finally. We've been exchanging e-mails, so I was very excited to get his book. I'm still not sure 100% how it came about.
I ordered the book with FPPs on PS, so I was expecting it. And it came from PS. Here's the odd part.
It was signed, and there was a personal inscription from Mr. Matros--which was very cool. But I always figured PS had a bunch of the books in storage somewhere, they get an order and they grab the pook, package it and ship it.
I'd mentioned to Matt that I'd purchased his book, and he was able to get his hands on the very one they were sending me and sign it for me...
Apparently, the system doesn't work quite like I thought it did. And that'd pretty cool.
Once again PS comes up big, and even bigger kudos to Mr. Matros for the thoughtful guesture.

A book review will be forthcoming.

Thursday, September 01, 2005

Back to School

The dreaded day has arrived. Yesterday I was back in class at the Univsity of Texas campus.
It's no fun, but I'm ready to get to it.
I'm taking four classes. German, Narrative Strategies, Feature Writing and Sports Journalism.

German should suck. I like learning the language, but I hate getting graded on my progress. My professor is like Jim Carrey in The Cable Guy, but he doesn't want to be your friend. The first quiz is tomorrow, the third day of class...

Narrative Strategies should be fun. It's an R-T-F class, that's radio-television-film--one of my majors.

My other major is journalism, and to that end I'm taking the feature writing class and sports-J. Sports-J is supposed to be an awesome class. Guest speakers have included Rick Reilly and Mike Tirico.

That and my two jobs are cutting into my poker time though. In addition to working at Child Support Enforcement, I'm on P-Staff at the Daily Texan. There I work the desk one night a week and cover Big 12 football.
It's a blast.

One of my stories ran today
.

Like I said, this throws a wrench into my poker playing, but not at an especially bad time. After the swing I've taken and still not recovered from, less play will do me good.
I did play in the WPTFan/DBPoker FIAB tourney two nights ago. We had a pretty good field with 5 spots paying. I got lucky once, played great and got 3-handed with a chip lead. Unfortunately a bold-semi bluff flopped and I was below 10xBB.
On the next hand the other guy was crippled as well, and left with a BB or two less than me. I had the button, and the table was very tight, so I pushed with 75o. The play is +EV, I'm sure of that.
But my timing was off and the new shorty had 77. I flopped an open-ended straight draw but couldn't get lucky and was out soon afterward.
I was pretty pissed off with third place because when I reshuffled my bankroll, I left a scant $200 on Stars. I bought into the FIAB with $105 in my account. (Tilting through $6.50 turbos adds up). With a first or second place finish, I would have been back to even since the transfer of funds, but it was not to be, and I'm still -$50, at $150. But the $50 is better than nothing. I was despairing when I saw that $105; I can handle $150 better.