Time for another poker story.
This one involves actor Tobey Maguire, probably best known for his role as “Spiderman.” He’s appeared in several noteworthy films over the years, including Pleasantville (1998), The Cider House Rules (1999), Wonder Boys (2000), Seabiscuit (2003), and most recently The Great Gatsby (2013).
I’ve had several direct encounters with Maguire in the past, all relating to my work in poker.
During the poker boom several Hollywood “A-Listers” began playing poker regularly. They not only joined private games held mostly in Los Angeles, but also attended major poker tournaments. Some of these actors are still a part of the game today, most notably – Jennifer Tilly and James Woods. [See Footnote 1]
Photo of some guy full of himself who thinks he knows everyone and everything about poker (PokerNews)
Poker may well be on the verge of another golden age.
I’ll tell you more why I think this is so in an upcoming announcement, which I think will excite a lot of people.
In the meantime, I’ve enjoyed several notable features in the media about my personal involvement in the game, as well as what’s ahead for poker.
Permit me to give readers a little background on each of the following news stories which all appeared in the last week:
I got scammed on Craigs List.
Scammers! Cheaters! Lying bastards!
Marieta warned me. But I didn’t listen. Husbands never listen, right? I wanted to find a “good deal.”
The crooks looked honest. They seemed nice. They seemed to know what they were doing. Then again, con artists always seem honest and nice, don’t they? Hey — that’s why they’re con artists.
The scam began with a broken water pipe between the house and the street. The last couple few months, our monthly water bill has tripled. Plus, the driveway looks like it’s ready to cave in. I’m just taking a wild guess here, but I think we might have a water leak.
Time to call a plumber.
A funny thing happened on the way to dinner tonight.
I was driving down the middle of the Las Vegas Strip and pulled up behind a shuttle bus.
The weather was pleasant. Beautiful, in fact. High in the low 70s. My car windows were rolled down.
Everything seemed perfectly fine, until the traffic light turned green. At that instant, the shuttle bus in front of me pulled away and left a massive black cloud of noxious exhaust. The fog of poisonous gas engulfed the entire street. The inside of the car became filled with smoke. It was bad enough to make me cough severely, and end up gasping for air. My eyes stung for the next several minutes.
What a health hazard!
There are places I remember,
all my life though some have changed.
Some forever not for better,
some have gone and some remain.
This is the story not so much of a band, as a building. A building with memories.
Take a ride on Amtrak’s Metroliner from New York City to Washington, D.C. After about a three-and-a-half hour journey you’ll pull into Union Station, a ten-minute walk from the U.S. Capitol Building.
Just as the train begins to slow down and coasts into the depot, an ugly rust-colored structure barely comes into view. It seems hardly worth noticing, except for the arches. Now blanketed in graffiti, it’s what we call an eyesore.
That shell of an old building along the eastern wall of the Washington rail yard deserves a better fate than it’s been given. Instead, it’s a victim of urban blight and gross neglect, forgotten a long time ago by just about everyone. Now it’s an empty tomb, barren except for the ghostly memories of what happened inside fifty years ago on the night of February 11, 1964.