Long overdue.
Life has a strange way of clogging up your day. It may throw high heat at your head in the morning and a forgotten memory at you by the afternoon. It has no respect for schedules, rarely plays by the rules and loves taking unexpected turns. As time rolls on, the vast majority of it centers around jobs, kids and wives. Any BDSer worth his wedding ring will tell you that's the way it should be, but sometimes Daddy needs to cut loose and act his shoe size for a weekend.
Believe us when we say there was plenty of that going on at last month's poker party back home. And just like this post that Craig, Brian, Sex and Greg have reminded us about, the party was long overdue.
The Road Trip Up
The tone of the weekend is set around 9:00 am in Austin Friday morning. An overt reference regarding the need to pack diapers so any "unintended leakage like last time" would be avoided put the boys on notice that the gloves would be off for the next 48 hours. After changing vehicles and looting the beer fridge in Dallas, the boys continue their trek northward. Somewhere north of Ardmore a deck of cards, complete with fancy poker chips, mysteriously appear from the back. By the time Wichita shows itself in the front windshield, the driver is already seven beers behind and $24 in the hole. Not the best way to start a weekend.
The Reason Why
The set-up is perfect. A finely crafted, hand-built poker table complete with felt top and drink holders is the focal point of the weekend; center stage at the local gentleman's club, if you will. All eyes will be fixed upon her for the next several days. Three feet to the west, behind the back porch door, is the ever-important keg. A bottle of Maker's Mark sits half-empty on the kitchen island, surrounded by homemade brownies, baked cookies and a few empty Dog 'N Shake wrappers that usually show up when the boys do in Wichita.
The next 36 hours are spent dropping, holding, bluffing, folding, calling and raising. Between shuffles, the conversation revolves around everthing from the impending NFL draft to Nextel Cup standings to who the hottest girl was back in seventh grade. A few of the boys drink a little too much and either a) eventually crawl into the closest bed or b) think they're Superman and become disappointed to learn gravity pulls them straight into the poker table when trying to leap across it. A few of the boys lose early and win late. Some win early and lose late. Other simply lose early and find themselves falling downhill from there. A few act out like the kids they left behind. And a few, apparently feeling transgressed for months, choose to vent their frustrations regarding shit that has no relevance to the weekend under mumbled breathe or far from earshot. Which, we suppose, is fine if we hadn't heard it or been placed in a position that required a great deal of restraint to ignore it.
In other words, it was a typical BDS weekend.
The Road Trip home
Long, but the company made it bearable. Any trip that is long enough to solve the problems in the Middle East, plan a tactical military response to the seemingly imminent invastion of Taiwan by China or discuss in detail the unbelievable power most political action groups wield on our bicameral form of legislative government is too long. After kicking one player out in Dallas, the rest of the wayward crew pushes through another three hours to Austin secretly wondering why the hell they didn't fly and not-so-secretly planning the next party much closer to home.
Ed. Note: Special thanks are extended to Bob and Bonnie for the open door and homemade brownies. Your hospitality is deeply appreciated. As a token of that appreciation, we let your son take all our money for the weekend.
Believe us when we say there was plenty of that going on at last month's poker party back home. And just like this post that Craig, Brian, Sex and Greg have reminded us about, the party was long overdue.
The Road Trip Up
The tone of the weekend is set around 9:00 am in Austin Friday morning. An overt reference regarding the need to pack diapers so any "unintended leakage like last time" would be avoided put the boys on notice that the gloves would be off for the next 48 hours. After changing vehicles and looting the beer fridge in Dallas, the boys continue their trek northward. Somewhere north of Ardmore a deck of cards, complete with fancy poker chips, mysteriously appear from the back. By the time Wichita shows itself in the front windshield, the driver is already seven beers behind and $24 in the hole. Not the best way to start a weekend.
The Reason Why
The set-up is perfect. A finely crafted, hand-built poker table complete with felt top and drink holders is the focal point of the weekend; center stage at the local gentleman's club, if you will. All eyes will be fixed upon her for the next several days. Three feet to the west, behind the back porch door, is the ever-important keg. A bottle of Maker's Mark sits half-empty on the kitchen island, surrounded by homemade brownies, baked cookies and a few empty Dog 'N Shake wrappers that usually show up when the boys do in Wichita.
The next 36 hours are spent dropping, holding, bluffing, folding, calling and raising. Between shuffles, the conversation revolves around everthing from the impending NFL draft to Nextel Cup standings to who the hottest girl was back in seventh grade. A few of the boys drink a little too much and either a) eventually crawl into the closest bed or b) think they're Superman and become disappointed to learn gravity pulls them straight into the poker table when trying to leap across it. A few of the boys lose early and win late. Some win early and lose late. Other simply lose early and find themselves falling downhill from there. A few act out like the kids they left behind. And a few, apparently feeling transgressed for months, choose to vent their frustrations regarding shit that has no relevance to the weekend under mumbled breathe or far from earshot. Which, we suppose, is fine if we hadn't heard it or been placed in a position that required a great deal of restraint to ignore it.
In other words, it was a typical BDS weekend.
The Road Trip home
Long, but the company made it bearable. Any trip that is long enough to solve the problems in the Middle East, plan a tactical military response to the seemingly imminent invastion of Taiwan by China or discuss in detail the unbelievable power most political action groups wield on our bicameral form of legislative government is too long. After kicking one player out in Dallas, the rest of the wayward crew pushes through another three hours to Austin secretly wondering why the hell they didn't fly and not-so-secretly planning the next party much closer to home.
Ed. Note: Special thanks are extended to Bob and Bonnie for the open door and homemade brownies. Your hospitality is deeply appreciated. As a token of that appreciation, we let your son take all our money for the weekend.
posted by TheBDS at 9:45 AM
1 Comments:
Glad you guys had fun. I don't play poker, but the beer and the brownies are right up my alley. I'm headed for New Orleans this weekend, and on about my seventieth beer I'll toast in a drunken slur, "To the Beer Guys, who turned drinking into a team sport. Olympics, 2008!"
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