Tuesday, April 30, 2002
Do we choose our obsessions or do our obsessions choose us? I’ve been pondering this question as I wrestle with two current fixations, one that has been with me for a while and one that has suddenly climbed on my back.
The old, familiar passion is – no surprise here – blackjack. During my recent convalescence (I’m almost all better now, thanks for asking) I picked up several blackjack strategy books from the library. (Yes, kids, if you want to perfect the vice of gambling, go to your local public library. Well, at least if you live in Seattle; the library system here is excellent, a vast repository of CDs, DVDs, and, oh yeah, books.)
Thanks to my studiousness, I am now in perfect command of basic strategy, which, aside from card counting, is the best way to reduce the casino’s edge against you. I’ve been playing a ton of blackjack lately – online. No, don’t worry, I’m not that far gone; there’s no actual money involved, only virtual cash. The other Mike G. sent me this link so that I can play as long as I like. (Just hit F5 to get more cash ... ah, if only it were that easy in the real casino.)
Perhaps more insidious is my newest obsession, something I’m somewhat embarrassed to cop to. And this one, I’m sure, sought me out and chose me, sinking its hooks in via a pair of Sony SRS-PC51 computer speakers. Four lads from Liverpool with funny haircuts have cast their musical spell upon me.
Yup, I’m totally gone on Echo and the Bunnymen.
See, at my fabulous new job I listen to music all day long on my computer thanks to the “Internet radio” of Spinner.com. Typically I have it set to the 80s alternative station, a pleasing mélange of Smiths, Feelies, Chills, Replacements, Cure, etc. At least a couple of times a day a Bunnymen song appears, usually something off their 1985 collection Songs to Learn and Sing. I’ve had that album on tape since high school and always enjoyed it, but never bothered to investigate them further. Now, though, their neo-psychedelic, post-punk, apparently Doors-influenced music has grabbed me. Last Saturday, Melissa and I went for a walk in Fremont, the place to live if you’re an aging Seattle hipster. In a used record store I scoured the E section and managed to find Porcupine, the Bunnymen’s third album. It’s good but now I want more. Yesterday, I came this close to forking out $50 for their boxed set.
Now, in case I didn’t mention before, the Drift On Inn, my preferred gambling house, often plays 80s music. In fact, Mike and I once determined that we tended to win hands when a song from the 80s was playing and adjusted our betting strategy accordingly. We still lost but the point, as I’ve just realized, is that my two current obsessions could possibly fuse in one glorious moment. I have yet to hear Echo and the Bunnymen whilst playing blackjack at the Drift On Inn but rest assured, if I do, I will bet large.
The old, familiar passion is – no surprise here – blackjack. During my recent convalescence (I’m almost all better now, thanks for asking) I picked up several blackjack strategy books from the library. (Yes, kids, if you want to perfect the vice of gambling, go to your local public library. Well, at least if you live in Seattle; the library system here is excellent, a vast repository of CDs, DVDs, and, oh yeah, books.)
Thanks to my studiousness, I am now in perfect command of basic strategy, which, aside from card counting, is the best way to reduce the casino’s edge against you. I’ve been playing a ton of blackjack lately – online. No, don’t worry, I’m not that far gone; there’s no actual money involved, only virtual cash. The other Mike G. sent me this link so that I can play as long as I like. (Just hit F5 to get more cash ... ah, if only it were that easy in the real casino.)
Perhaps more insidious is my newest obsession, something I’m somewhat embarrassed to cop to. And this one, I’m sure, sought me out and chose me, sinking its hooks in via a pair of Sony SRS-PC51 computer speakers. Four lads from Liverpool with funny haircuts have cast their musical spell upon me.
Yup, I’m totally gone on Echo and the Bunnymen.
See, at my fabulous new job I listen to music all day long on my computer thanks to the “Internet radio” of Spinner.com. Typically I have it set to the 80s alternative station, a pleasing mélange of Smiths, Feelies, Chills, Replacements, Cure, etc. At least a couple of times a day a Bunnymen song appears, usually something off their 1985 collection Songs to Learn and Sing. I’ve had that album on tape since high school and always enjoyed it, but never bothered to investigate them further. Now, though, their neo-psychedelic, post-punk, apparently Doors-influenced music has grabbed me. Last Saturday, Melissa and I went for a walk in Fremont, the place to live if you’re an aging Seattle hipster. In a used record store I scoured the E section and managed to find Porcupine, the Bunnymen’s third album. It’s good but now I want more. Yesterday, I came this close to forking out $50 for their boxed set.
Now, in case I didn’t mention before, the Drift On Inn, my preferred gambling house, often plays 80s music. In fact, Mike and I once determined that we tended to win hands when a song from the 80s was playing and adjusted our betting strategy accordingly. We still lost but the point, as I’ve just realized, is that my two current obsessions could possibly fuse in one glorious moment. I have yet to hear Echo and the Bunnymen whilst playing blackjack at the Drift On Inn but rest assured, if I do, I will bet large.
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