by David J. Valley
 
Hobby and I were driving to the downtown Palm Springs casino, about a ten minute drive from his villa. “I noticed you at your desk today, scribbling away. Were you writing your last will and testament?”

 “No,” Hobby said with a chuckle, “I was working on my New Year’s poker resolutions.”

I just finished a jog around my neighborhood when my cell phone rang. Hobby’s number showed on the screen. He had been traveling with Sue. “Hey, Hobby, are you still in Vegas?”

 “Oh, yeah. We’ve seen all the top shows in town and Sue is flying to L.A. as we speak. How about coming over for a few days? I’ve got this huge two bedroom suite at Caesar’s comped for another week and there’s a special tournament this weekend. It’ll be fun.”

 “I don’t know. I’ve got some work I should do.”

 “C’mon, Joe; you can get away. I’ll even treat you to dinner anywhere you want.”

 Funny how I could just smell a sizzling steak, it’s the power of suggestion.

I put down my cup of coffee to answer my cell phone. “Hi, Joe. I forgot to tell you, Muriel is coming this morning to do me. Are you interested?” Hobby asked.

Before anyone jumps to the wrong conclusion, Muriel is a 60 year-old lady who, once a month, goes to Hobby’s yacht, Lazybuns II, to give him a haircut, manicure, and pedicure. She also acts like she’s his mother, bossing him around and chiding him for any slackness. He gives her a bad time too and they both enjoy the badgering. I sometimes have Muriel do my hair and a get a manicure. After a quick assessment, I decided it’s about time. “Yeah, I could use some touching up. I’ll be over in about an hour.”

Hobby and I flew to Panama City to meet Mike and the crew on Lazybuns II after it cleared the Panama Canal. Anyone who flies very often has a share of horror stories to tell, but never have I had so many things go wrong on one trip. The details are boring, but the bottom line was that we arrived a day late. Once on the ground at Panama City, Hobby called Mike and learned all was well with Lazybuns. We could take a water taxi and be aboard within an hour.

Hobby and I were having lunch at the Blue Coyote, a Southwestern restaurant in downtown Palm Springs. I have always held Hobby’s margaritas as the standard of excellence, and have never found any others to come close, until I tasted the Wild Coyote Margarita.

If you want a symbolic gesture, don’t burn the flag; wash it.—Norman Thomas

[This is a work of poker fiction set ten thousand hands in the future. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.]

“Operation Game Over,” the Puritan Government’s final solution to the poker problem, was nearing its climax. Freight trains filled with poker players continued to arrive at Las Vegas’ Union Station. Once there the players were imprisoned on the Las Vegas Strip.

Except for a few business trips I’ve been staying with Hobby at his Palm Springs villa. Lazybuns II was still under repair due to unanticipated problems. Now with winter setting in for residents in coastal California it was good to be in the warm desert. Lately we’ve been checking out some local private poker games to supplement our trips to nearby casinos.

We had to destroy the village in order to save it. —Vietnam Logic.

[This is a work of poker fiction set ten thousand hands in the future. Any resemblance

to persons living or dead is coincidental.]

On February 7, 1968 in South Vietnam’s Mekong Delta the small village of Bên Tre, a suspected Viet Cong hideout, was burned to the ground. The rationale for this act—“We had to destroy the village in order to save it”—has ever since been called “Vietnam Logic.”

“Operation Game Over” was The Puritan Government’s final solution to “The Poker Problem.” Based on the “Vietnam Logic” of salvation through destruction Operation Game Over was envisioned by its creator, the Revered President Biggs Brother, to be the extermination of all poker players in order to stop poker playing once and for all. Under secret provisions in The Poker Elimination and Criminalization Enforcement Act, the Reverend President Biggs Brother, in approving Operation Game Over, effectively signed the death warrants of tens of thousands of poker players.

When you’re going through Hell, keep going. —Winston Churchill.

At daybreak Lazybuns II was underway, leaving behind the unfortunate Miraflores experience. At a private poker club a card cheat used a shiner to get an advantage at Hobby’s table. When Hobby exposed him, the man pulled a knife. Bad idea, Hobby snapped his wrist. That brought an end to our evening of poker; we decided to clear out before the bad guy’s friends got nasty.