Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Silly and Soft
A psychologist has won the World Series of Poker's main event. Hailing originally from Laos, the 39 year-old Californian Jerry Yang won over 8 million dollars last night, or rather at 3am this morning - defeating over 6000 other players over a week long tournament. Wow.
And unlike last years champ, sleazy Hollywood agent Jamie Gold, this guy seems to be truly humble and genuine. For starters, Jerry will be donating 10% of his winnings to charity. Class act.
I have indulged a bit over the last month, obsessively following all the bracelet events and this last main one online. Some big name pros took down the gold, as well as the usual wide assortment of amateurs. Some day I'm going to do it; save up and enter a small event. What a thrill just to be there.
Other silly things have been taking up my time as well. I saw Transformers with the wife; a ridiculous, loud movie, perhaps the ultimate "movie", with more explosions in two hours than you could shake a stick at. Loved the new Harry Potter movie as well, and am currently chomping at the bit to get my hands on the latest and final book which comes out Saturday.
Oh the silly and soft pursuits of my life. I look back over this blog and I find I'm either raging pissed off about politics, or I'm geeking out over some ridiculous thing like music or movies. I really do need to grow up, but it's hard to help myself.
I guess I feel guilty, while men and women are dying overseas so that I can buy DVD's and play poker; I really get the sense sometimes that I'm just a big kid who can't get his act together to do something meaningful.
And then I look at what is happening to my daughter. She is so full of joy, intelligence, laughter, energy, healthy, vibrance, and on and on and on. My wife and I must be doing something right, because this little girl is so bright and happy; she is truly loved to the point of bursting with exuberance. I know in my heart she will be happy and live well, and I have played a pretty big part in that so far.
I take solace, that at least where being a dad is concerned; I am every bit the responsible grown up. Until my very last breath, I know she will always be provided for and loved fiercely. The energy I put towards indulging my silly pursuits is dwarfed by my devotion as a father. Things are good, and I know my existence has meaning - I see it and live it every day, through that little miracle that dances through the day and sings herself to sleep.
Posted by Chris Manzoni at 1:57 PM