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Yesterday I finally met Lee Jones, who is the director of communications for PokerStars, and author of the well-regarded Winning Low-Limit Hold'Em  (which Amazon helpfully informs me that I purchased on June 8, 2006). I say "finally" because I had learned from a mutual friend that he lived around Asheville. As a result, I had expected to bump into him a lot earlier, but he moved away around the same time that I was moving here from Vegas. He kindly reached out to me to say that he and some friends would be at Harrah's Cherokee Saturday, and would I like to join them? I would indeed, and I did. Delightful fellow, as I had expected based not only on his writings but on reports from others who know him. But I have to say, for somebody so steeped in the poker world, he has a shockingly poor grasp of the game's most powerful hands. The group of us split between two tables. Lee was at the other with a friend who was taking her first stab at casino poker. After a while, ...

Yesterday Nina and I went to Harrah's Cherokee to play in the second WSOP-C seniors event. (The first was April 17.) I did decently well in it, going out with about 150 left out of 568 entrants, but not well enough to make the money (last 63). As is often the case in such things, winning instead of losing one 50/50 race would have made all the difference. Next I played in a cash game for a while. It's actually been three years since I played a $1-2 NLHE cash game with chips and a dealer instead of PokerPro machines. I kept forgetting to tip the dealer when I won pots. I started well, but eventually made a bad all-in move and lost my buy-in. The game was already breaking up, so I decided not to start over. But they were assembling a 10-player, $125 sit-and-go for $1100 cash, winner take all. I don't think I've ever done a tournament format like that. The closest I've come has been some WSOP single-table satellites. I figured I had a couple of hours of good poker left...

Today I went to Harrah's Cherokee today. Got a seat right away in a $1/2 NLHE game at one of the PokerPro electronic tables. I bought in for $200. On my third or fourth hand, I had 3d-6d one off the button. I raised to $8, because The Spanish Inquisition is awesome. The button called (sitting on $450 or so), as did the big blind (short stack). Flop: 3s-7c-3c. Yahtzee! BB checked. I bet $12. Button called. Big blind check-raised all-in for $22. It wasn't enough to reopen the betting, so I could only call. Button called, too. Turn: Qh. The pot was about $90. I bet $60. I was surprised when the button called. I didn't think most people would call that with a flush draw. I thought his most likely holding was a medium pair--something between 8s and jacks. If so, he was calling only as a bluff-catcher. River: 7d. This was problematic. If the button had called me on the flop and turn because he had a 7, he had just backed into a bigger full house than mine. But I decided that was...

I was at Harrah's Cherokee over the weekend. While I was waiting in line at the cashier, I noticed this list of house rules on one of the monitors. Look at the third one. I suppose banning Google Glass has some rationale, because one might theoretically use it to beam images of one's cards to somebody outside the game and surreptitiously get advice on how to play via an earbud. But I'm unable to come up with a justification for banning "smart watches." Any plausible ideas?

I have a new answer to that question as of today, thanks to a guy who was playing at Harrah's Cherokee this afternoon with Nina and me. A pet bird. Not in a cage. Inside his shirt. My awareness of this oddity began when I heard a brief, high-pitched "tweep," which Nina later correctly compared to the chirp a smoke detector makes when its battery is running low. I figured it was some sort of notification on somebody's smart phone, and didn't think much more of it. But a few minutes later I heard it again, and was better able to localize the direction it was coming from. I looked at the guy, and there is a BIRD POPPING ITS HEAD OUT OF HIS SHIRT COLLAR. Mind you, this was not a stuffed bird. It was not a toy bird. It was a real, living, honest-to-goodness pet bird--a peach-faced lovebird , to be exact. It would pop in and out of his shirt. It was out for quite a long time, sitting on his lap, as he fed it some birdseed from a little tray that he had brought along. Wh...