Sushi, Poker, and my grandpa Otto.

Found a good new sushi place in Hillsboro – Sushi Zen.  It’s a bit far away but it got good reviews, so Dad and I tried it and it’s excellent.  We’re going during happy hour today (2-4) because everything on the belt is $1.  Can’t wait!

I keep winning in poker.  Last night I got out of my Thirsty Lion gig early somehow, and they were starting the 9pm game more like 9:30 at MacGuffy’s, so I made it there in time to play.  The coffee I drank at 8am yesterday wore off about half way through the game, so I was losing focus.  I somehow found myself making it to heads up after the field of 20 people whittled away.

I was a HUGE underdog in terms of chip stack.  I had two chips, and the other guy had the rest (maybe 30?).  I had to go all-in on the first two hands just from the blinds.  I won those two, and it went back and forth for 25 minutes after that.  I played well, but also got lucky, and ended up winning the game.  That’s 3 wins in the 7 or 8 games I’ve played in the last two weeks, which is clearly bolstered by luck more than anything.

Hopefully the sunshine outside my window will last.  I need to change the timing belt and water pump in my poor Civic sometime between now and Sunday.  It’s going to take all day since we don’t have all the special tools or the ability to take my car’s engine out completely to work on it.  Sunshine would make the job immeasurably nicer.

Speaking on Sunday, I get to see some family down at a Eugene gathering honoring my late grandpa Otto.  I think I’ll post something from one of the little books he wrote.  He had a way with words that is really unique.  He writes less like a polished writer, and more like he’s having a conversation.  Some of his stories were amazing.

He was also the epitome of adorable old men.  In the year or more he spent in the hospital bed before he shuffled off this mortal coil, he had charmed every single nurse in the place.  No joke – his energy and love of life had random ladies bringing him flowers and finding excuses each day to stop by and say hello.  They had a nickname for him, but I don’t remember it.

Can’t find my copy of his book right now, so I’ll post it later.  As a preview, I’ll post one of my favorite poems he wrote on the delicate duality of hummingbird conversations:

Hover Lover?
Hum Bum!


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