Muttroxia

I can’t believe we’re going to Game 7. Unlike Games 3 and 4, where the Hawks played out of their head, the Celtics lost this one by choking in the clutch.

In a 5-minute stretch in the fourth quarter everything went wrong. They suddenly turned into a bunch of cowards. There was no offensive movement so the point guard would hold the ball waiting for something to happen. It wouldn’t. They’d dump the ball into Garnett. Garnett would make some nifty looking moves. But you could see he didn’t want to actually attack the basket or shoot, he always kicked it out. The Hawks got two steals by anticipating that pass and stealing it. Rondo slashes into the lane, jumps far above anyone else and looks to pass it instead of laying it in. Another steal. This went on for five minutes until they somehow found their cojones.

A minor helping of scorn for the refs. The double-technical on Cassell and Johnson should have only been on Johnson. Two of Pierce’s six fouls were completely wrong. In a tight game, these can make the difference.

Special scorn for Kevin Garnett. Holy cow, just take the ball in. Yes, there are some good blockers but not good enough to stop you. Get the fouls on them. Or wait to pass until they do commit themselves. You are a better player than they are, you’re the goto franchise player. You need to score, or at least sell the scoring act.

May 3rd is free comic book day. Find a store near you and support the lowbrow arts!

Suppose you had a piece of cake to divide up between two people. Each boy wants to get the biggest piece of course. Is there a fair way to make sure each gets half? Most of you probably know the classic answer. One boy cuts, the other chooses. That way the first boy is motivated to make a perfect cut. There are versions out there for multiple boys.

Have you ever tried this in real life? It quickly becomes clear that it is not particularly fair. Get a piece of cake and try to split it in half. It’s hard to do. It’s even harder if you are five years old without a lot of fine motor control. One piece will be significantly bigger than the other. The task of choosing which piece is bigger is much easier than making two equal halves. The second boy has a huge advantage. The unfairness moves to the level of choosing which boy gets assigned which role. Intelligent children will thus try to be the chooser rather than the divider. How do you decide who gets to be the chooser?

You could flip a coin. Flipping a coin is fair. But if you’re going to do that, why not have either of them slice the cake. Rather than flipping to decide roles, the winner of the coin flip gets to directly choose which slice they want. That’s a fair method, why complicate things with roles?

Applied math is hard.

Lordy, that was just awful. Playing from behind almost the whole night, I was knocked out after only 90 minutes. And I was 5th out 8, it was a brutal table. I’ve never seen so many high hands. Almost every pot was won by trips or better. One guy in particular got incredible hands the whole time. Three times he had trips after the flop, each time taking huge pots from people with two pair. Once he had the nut flush, taking out pocket aces. He got a miracle straight. Those are just the ones he showed, he had so many chips he could bully every one around.

I managed to work my way back to an average stack. I had K-Q. Flop was Q-J-x. I went all in, I was called with A-10. A King came up. I had two pair but he got the straight, so I was knocked out. Sigh. Frustrating to go all in with best hand and get a bad beat, the same thing happened last week.

Tonight: $-20
Overall: $-34

“Hon – why is there a kitchen knife stuck through my new library book?”
(after a moments investigation)
“Correction. Hon – why is there a kitchen knife stuck through my new library book,with peanut butter all over it?”

On tee-ball opening day, our mini-van was ticketed. It was a fitting end to an awful day since the minivan was in a clearly marked legal parking spot. Rather than pay $50, I took a half-day off of work to fight it. It isn’t a smart financial decision, but I can’t stand the idea of getting screwed like that. It’s my second or third time fighting tickets in Atlanta. I know the drill. By 9:00 I was comfortably seated in prime bench space with a new Terry Pratchett book. And a pad of paper to record random Muttroxian observations.

We defendants were 90% black, 36 out of 40. Maybe a little higher if you include the ugly white teenager with the Kobe Bryant shirt who wanted to be. More on him later. All officers of the court were black. The sample size was small, but there seemed to be no correlation between race and status. There were just an awful lot of poor people. They were about to get a lot poorer.

Next to me was the upstanding white couple. A nice southern gentleman and his nice southern wife. They were reading a book called The Human Body: Accident or Design? Really? Are those the only choices? They annoyed me already.

First up were all the guilties and nolos that the judge wanted to get out of the way. They had a probation officer out in the hall, and if you couldn’t pay right there you were put on probation. Many folks couldn’t pay a $100 ticket. Most fines were in the $150-$300 range. I felt bad for some of these folks, that’s a big hit in their circumstances.

I wonder if judges for parking court feel like they’re failures? It must be mind-numbing to deal with the same idiots every day. You main duty is collecting revenue for the state. They probably don’t feel like failures, but they probably don’t feel that great about it either. On the other hand, criminal judges probably feel they could have done something better than hear the same dirtbag stories every day also. I hope they rotate judge assignments around every few years.

There was a huge variance in body types. To paraphrase Tolstoy, all healthy bodies look the same but every unhealthy body looks different. You can really see the lack of healthcare. One man told the judge he was on dial.. dial something.. You mean dialysis?.. I think so, does that help me piss?

“You want to take the defensive driving course? Why should I let you do that?”
“. ”
“Why should I let you?”
“So I can get my license back?”
“It was your choice to lose it. I didn’t make you drive thirty miles over the speed limit. Why should I interfere with the consequences of your choice?”
“.

Kobe was up. A 19-year old white kid. He looked like Eminem with glasses and acne. The full size Kobe Bryant shirt was a dress on him. He had the walk too, the stereotypical black urban rap walk. He was the only one the whole day with it. There were a lot of characters who were clearly a lot more badass than him who didn’t have the walk. I think health plays a role here also. You have to be physically fit to be able to walk like that constantly. It’s a way of displaying your male virility. If you’re sick or fat, you can’t pull it off.

Now we’re into the not guilty folks (which includes me). She calls it the trial phase, which is true, but intimidating.

“What are you driving now?”
“Nothing.”
“Good. Marta’s Smarta.”

The oath doesn’t mention God. “Do you solemnly swear..” but it doesn’t say what you’re swearing by.

A clear miscarriage of justice. A guy is up there for serving liquor without a license. But he has never served liquor. He’s a weekend cook, never even been behind the bar. He was working his shift, when he heard a break-in two stores down. He calls the cops. They take a long time to show up, he starts going home. As he does six police show up and start asking him questions. They want to go in his place, but it’s after hours and locked and since he’s just the cook he doesn’t have the keys. They make him go around back with them. They go in and see liquor being served. They start asking for permits and the owner doesn’t have any. They throw the book at the owner, but that’s not who is in court today. The poor schlub who called the cops is up there. All of this is perfectly clear. He is found guilty and fined almost $1000. A collective moan of sympathy and outrage rises from the audience. It doesn’t help.

It’s awful hard being up there. The judge asks you if you want to ask the police officer any questions, and it’s always unclear what to do. You don’t know the rules, you don’t know how to ask the right questions. Most people have more of a statement. They want to discuss it with the judge and you don’t know when you’re supposed to do that. Most people don’t know the right questions to ask. The cook might have asked the policeman, “Did you personally observe me serving liquor?” That might have been enough.

So far no one has been let off the hook. The not guilties are zero for six. Did I get the hanging judge?

There’s graffiti and names etched into every square inch of the benches. What kind of jackass vandalizes while they are actually in court?

My southern neighbors are up. It seems that there was a bus parked illegally at the entrance to the highway. Another driver was trying to get around the bus and merged badly, hitting them. They are witnesses for the state, the hitter is the defendant. The general consensus is that the bus was at fault, but the defendant clearly did cause the accident. After the first statement, the policeman asks the hittees if their insurance has settled everything. Yes, it has. Judge, in light of that, since there was no harm done, since the bus fled the scene, since the insurance has settled all financial matters, I would be content with reducing all the charges to a warning. The judge asks the defendant if that’s OK with him. Of course it is! I’m feeling good as someone is finally getting off light. Is it OK with everyone else? No! My fine creationist neighbor speaks up. It’s not OK. The judge can’t understand the problem. What does he care anymore, he’s been made right? He asks to approach the bench. That cracked me up. What could he have to say that can’t be said in front of everybody? I’m guessing he’s a racist pig and here he is, stuck having to come up with some BS to a black judge. What a vindictive jerk. May I approach the bench indeed. The defendant is let off with a warning. They are really strange people. (They also forget their book, but I bring it out to them.)

Now Single Female Lawyer is up. She has worked out a plea-bargain arrangement with the police. It’s a good one, her client basically gets off with a small fine. But wait, the judge won’t accept it! I didn’t know she could do that! She says it’s not right, why shouldn’t this guy get community service at least? Well, because he’s been unemployed he’s starting a new job as a trucker on Monday that requires a clean license it’s all been worked already etc. The judge says he can do community service on weekends. He says that’s hard for him, he has two young boys to take care of. “Then you’ll be a good role model for them, won’t you? Help keep DeKalb county clean! Twenty hours community service!” Who’s going to watch the kids? Why is she sticking her big nose in anyhow? what’s the point of working out a plea if the judge comes and throws the whole deal out?

I am the very last case of the morning. The policeman didn’t show up, so all my charges are thrown out. I jauntily wish everyone a good day. For the first time the judge cracks a smile, for the freakshow is over.

Funny thing about poker. You don’t need much skill when you get good cards. I didn’t play as well as I did the last two weeks and yet I finished in the money. I had three monster hands and sucked out loads of money on each one.

Monster Hand 1: With J-8, the flop is 5-9-10. The turn is a 7, I have the nuts straight. The river is a 6. Two other players also had 8s and assumed it was a 3-way chop. Not so, my Jack high straight trumped their 10-high straight. I was already at 2.5x the average stack.

Monster Hand 2: A-9, the board is A-A-6. I check, then call the moderate bet. The turn is nothing. I check again, he puts in a lot, I put him all in and win easily.

Monster Hand 3: A-A, another A comes on the flop. When I go all in on the river he won’t call, but I already have most of his chips.

Between these three hands, I was sitting pretty. I spent most of the last two hours folding and patiently waiting for other players to be eliminated. That was a good strategy. I cruised to the top three. In our game, the top three finish in the money (50%-30%-20%). I was slightly short-stacked. I went all in prelop with A-J. I was called with K-J. A king came up so I was knocked out in third place. It was a bad beat to go out with, but I can’t complain about the cards. And now to watch the TiVo’d Celtics game.

Tonight: $32
Total: -$14

Once in a while, Mrs. Muttrox and I get ourselves a cheap meal by serving as Mystery Guests. We dine anonymously, answer questions about the meal, and get reimbursed most of the cost. The price is right, and it’s fun. We haven’t done it for a long time, because the surveys are such a pain. Last week we did it for the first time in three years. I whipped through the survey in ten minutes. I thought I had remembered everything that happened, I was ready for anything. Except these.

85. If you stepped away from the table at any point in your dining experience, when you returned, was your napkin neatly folded in front of you?

89. If you paid with a credit card, did the server say your name upon returning your card to you?

Really? Uh… I’m going to pass. One made up answer, coming up.

Some good news and bad news.

Good: I went in determined to play position. I did. When I had position, I used it to bully people into folding. When I was out of position, I didn’t go in with marginal hands. I bet out of position just enough to keep people honest. I showed good discipline.

Bad: Two fatal misreads. The first one was unremarkable. I thought I had someone’s body language figured out and I was wrong. In the second one, I had around 2,300, big blind is 200. I get K-K. I bet 500, I get two callers. The flop is A-x-x. Any ace kills me, otherwise I win. Neither of the two players bet. Neither of them are players who slowplay. I push in 800. One folds, one calls. The turn is another garbage card. This time the other player puts me all in. I don’t think he just got a set or anything like that, there are no straight or flushes out there. He either has the ace or he doesn’t. We have eight players, the odds are good that another ace got dealt. But why no betting? Is he scared that I also have an ace with a higher kicker? If so, then why put me all in? Did he get a second pair with that garbage card? You can see where this is going. I can’t get away from those beautiful kings. I finally call, he has the ace and takes most of my money.

My final stand: I somehow struggle back from the edge of ruin to a fair-sized stack. I get dealt Qc-10c in the big blind. I check the option, three players are in. The flop is Kc-Jd-5c. Both players go all in. At this point, I am definitely far far behind, but folding is the wrong play. I’m getting 2-1 on my money, not even including all the money in the pot so far. I have four to a straight and four to a flush (any Ace, nine, or club.) That’s a lot of outs. And if any of those come up I’ve almost certainly won. I suspect (correctly) that both my opponents have a King or Jack pairing the board. I call. I don’t get my outs and the pair of Jacks take the pot. I can’t complain about that hand, it was still the right play.

Classic poker outing. Many good plays, but two bad reads threw it all away.

Tonight: -$40
Total: -$46

I haven’t done so good with my resolution to read 10 Pulitzer prize winning books this year. With the year 30% over I’ve read two.

• The Shipping News (E. Annie Proulx): I just finished this a couple hours ago. It was good, but not even great. I don’t understand how it won the prize. At first it seemed like a book where everything conceivable goes wrong for the protagonist. That is a particularly loathsome form of narrative. A Man in Full and The Corrections stand out as books to avoid. Fifty pages in, The Shipping News was going down that path. Fortunately, it turned back and made itself into a nice little story. ‘Story’ is an overstatement, since nothing happens of interest. It’s a word portrait of Newfoundland. It could have been half the length or three times as long and it wouldn’t have mattered, since there were no meaningful events to elide or reveal. My advice is to read Elizabeth Gilbert’s Stern Men. It is the same style of story told much better. And it’s funny to boot.
• The Good War: An Oral History of World War Two (Studs Terkel): What a book! I was hooked by the third paragraph. World War Two is a broad topic and Terkel manages to cover most of it. The entire book is recollections by people who were part of the War. Mostly American soldiers, but it also had Germans, Russians, Japanese, scientists, politicians, ordinary citizens. There is no editorial content, just the stories by those who were there. No matter how cynical you are, you can’t walk away from this book without believing they really were “The Greatest Generation”. Both in what they did, and how they did it. How would you have acted in the same circumstances? I can’t recommend this book enough. It will reveal parts of history you never knew about, parts of humanity, and parts of yourself.

  By the way, the correct answer to my previous question about this book (have there been any other “Good War”s?) was: Afghanistan. Afghanistan. We were clearly attacked first and the Taliban were harboring and supporting an international threat in l-Queda. The Taliban were clearly illegitimate and clearly evil, and we got rid of them. We haven’t been so hot on the follow-through but give us credit for the first part. Afghanistan.

Muttroxia gives a stamp of approval to Cabin Pressure: One Man’s Desperate Attempt to Recapture his Youth as a Camp Counselor. It’s a bit like Bill Bryson goes to camp. The odds are you know the author, Josh Wolk. Odds are good you went to high school with him. Odds are good you know he was funny then, and he’s funnier now. It’s the kind of book you read with a small grin on your face that every so often erupts into an actual guffaw. Turns out it’s funny. Funny, that is.

It is very strange to read something semi-autobiographical about someone you knew growing up. I wasn’t good friends with Josh, but we were on each others lists of good people. At least I hope I was on his list. And I also went to camp right on that lake. In fact, my brother is getting married there in two months.

Josh is the second author from my high school class with a recently published novel, Austin Grossman being the first. Oddly, they lived across the street from each other.

The story has legs. The movie version has already been optioned. Josh also has a blog, and it is also funny. But he updates it even less than I do. I win!

Allstate insurance has a full page ad on the back of the business section of today’s New York Times. It has a cartoon of a woman in a business suit chained to a rock. Here’s the first two paragraphs of text:

The number of women over 65 who are still working has increased by more than a third in the past ten years. Why are retirement-age women increasingly chained to their jobs?

Well, women live longer than men, so their retirement savings have to stretch father. Women earn less – 77 cents for every dollar a man earns – so they save less. And they work fewer years – the average woman spends 11 years out of the workforce caring for children or elderly parents.

1. What happened to the number of men over 65 still working? Suppose that has risen by 50%?
2. Who says they are chained to their jobs? Maybe they are living a full rewarding life working part-time.
3. Women used to make a lot less than 77 cents on the dollar. I seem to remember 40 or 50 cents. Seems like they’re doing better, not worse?
4. Nothing in the second paragraph relates to the first. The first is about change over the last ten years. Women live longer, but has that changed in the last ten years? Do they take more time out of the workforce than they used to? Do they make more than they used to?

So the evidence doesn’t relate to the summary, and then the summary is given a pejorative spin that’s unsupported.

Oh, by the way, the main fact? Not so much.

The number of women over 65 who are still working has increased 38 percent since 1980

In 28 years it’s gone up 38%, but Allstate says it’s gone up over a third in the last ten years? Fishy.