If you like frequent silly/funny/vulgar tweets, please follow me on Twitter @jeff218miller.

I am feeling very under the weather, so I will make this quick.

This weekend is an MMA fan's dream come true! With UFC 141 and a massive Dream card, I could not be more excited. Below are some (very) quick predictions.

UFC
Lesnar via ground and pound TKO
Cerrone via TKO
Fitch via KO 10 seconds in (lol, that is a joke....he wins via decision)
Gustafsson via KO
Phan via decision
On the undercard I like: Pearson, Njokuani, Kim, Volkman, Ramos, and Nunes

Dream
Fedor via KO
Aoki via something crazy
Inoue via TKO
Fujii in a quick and dominating sub
Kawajiri by decision in standup fight because their wrestling will cancel out
Mach Sakurai via stoppage of some sort
Bibi via KO
Banuelos via decision
Tokoro via decision

In the GP final, I like Bibi via KO over Banuelos

Have a safe and happy New Year's Eve!!!

I was going to do a recap of the year that was, but, honestly, those bore the fuck out of me, so I'll pass. Instead, I want to touch on what the events of 2011 have meant to my life and then kick into a few of my favorite things from the year 2011.

As most of my more loyal readers (what few of you there are, considering I haven't blogged in a virtual eternity) know, this past May, we pulled up stakes and moved to Las Vegas. We were desperate for a change, and it just seemed right. Nearly 8 months later, I don't regret it even one bit. Aside from having access to a million more things than ever before, it has been nice to be able to establish a identity of our own, on our own, without the benefit of help from family or friends. We'd become stuck in the same rut that plagues too many people and needed to get out of it - 32 years old is far to young to be resigned to an unwavering path of same old, same old. While I miss my family and friends every single day, this feels right and I don't anticipate calling off the experiment in the near future.

Since moving, I've logged nearly 200 hours of 1/2, almost exclusively at Red Rock. While the games there are quite reg-heavy, the regs are almost overwhelmingly poor players. What's more, they are generally affluent and unafraid to reload. Despite an ongoing monumental run to the negative side, my results have been mostly positive and I have a lot of hope for 2012. More than anything, it is nice to get out of the house and play. The escape is awesome, especially considering how much I enjoy playing the live game.

Another thing the move has done is motivate me to be more healthy. I've been exercising much more regularly than at any point in the last 10 years and have lost over 10% of my total body weight. I'd like to lose quite a bit more and have a pretty serious post-holiday plan to do just that. For the first time maybe ever, I've shown the will-power to take care of myself. I'm motivated to be nearly unrecognizable by the time the CR WSOP party hits this July.

The final aspect of the move that I'd like to mention is how much better it has made my relationship with my wife and kid. Without a lot of built in friends, without family and family obligations, we've had a lot of time together. We have had to lean on each other more than ever. The result could have gone one of two ways, I suppose, and fortunately it went the way of pulling us all together. I'm as in love with my wife as I ever have been and I appreciate her more than ever. Not a bad side benefit of the move. Not at all.

In the vein of Oprah, here are a few of my favorite things from 2011:

Non-Music Pop Culture

Favorite New Movie - The Muppets
Favorite Movie I Saw for the First Time - Coanan The Barbarian (the original)
Favorite Documentary - No End in Sight (been out since 2007, but I'd not seen it yet)
Favorite New TV Show - Person of Interest
Favorite TV Show - The Walking Dead
Favorite Non-New Video Game I'd Never Played Before - Tie between Uncharted and Uncharted 2
Favorite New Video Game - Gran Turismo 5
Favorite New Website - DraftDay.com (sick plug)

Sports

Game of the Year - World Series, Game 6
Injustice of the Year - Devin Hester not making Pro Bowl as a return man
Fight of the Year - Dan Henderson vs Shogun Rua, UFC139
Fighter of the Year - Jon Jones
Fighter of the Year That Nobody Pays Attention To - Donald Cerrone
KO of the Year - Frankie Edgar KO's Gray Maynard, UFC136
Comeback of the Year - Tie between Cheick Kongo for KO of Pat Berry at UFC Live on Vs 6 and Frank Mir for breaking Big Nog's arm at UFC140

Music

Ten Best New Albums

10. Tha Carter IV, Lil Wayne
9. Alpocalypse, Weird Al
8. Wasting Light, Foo Fighters
7. The Family Sign, Atmosphere
6 . El Camino, The Black Keys
5. The Muppet's Soundtrack, The Muppets
4. Noel Gallagher's Flying Birds, Noel Gallagher's Flying Birds
3. 21, Adele
2. The Camp, Childish Gambino
1. Lasers, Lupe Fiasco


Ten Best New Songs

10. GoodMorning, Chamillionaire




9. Paul Simon, Rewrite



8. Beastie Boys, Make Some Noise



7. Factory of Faith, Red Hot Chili Peppers



6. Pictures In My Head, Kermit The Frog and The Muppets



5. Foo Fighters, Walk (also a great video)



4. Lupe Fiasco, Till I Get There



3. Noel Gallagher's Flying Birds, The Death of You and Me




2. Childish Gambino, Heartbeat




1. Atmosphere, She's Enough

Since my teens I've waged a war versus perception. Because I am generally cracking jokes, smiling a lot, and in trying to be the life of the party, it is assumed that I am unable to be serious or am somehow an immature or irresponsible person. This actually cost me a job about 6 or 7 years ago when the GM of the car dealership I worked at was unable to understand that being fun and responsible were not mutually exclusive abilities. I've paid the price for who I am.

When I was younger I acted that way as a defense mechanism. I was lacking in self confidence and found my ability to entertain made me feel better. Now that I am into my 30's, I continue on because it feels good to have people laugh at something you said. It is no longer something I do because I have to, but something I do because I want to - it is good for my soul. Along the way I've come to realize that if anything, my insistence on being this way has made me a more mature individual. I am able to realize what I am doing and how it impacts people's perception of me. Beyond that, I have gotten to the point where I don't care if it impacts me in a negative fashion. Having to overcome this perception has made me a stronger, more confident person. Show me somebody who insists on suppressing who they are in order to impress people, and I'll show you somebody with a shattered ego.

What does any of this have to do with the most recent online poker hullabaloo?

Plenty.

For some reason the perception of poker players, especially high stakes regs, is that they are somehow wise and intelligent beyond their years. If you go back and read any amount of the comments to Haseeb's blog from the past couple of years and you will see a reverence generally reserved for historical figures like Lincoln or Churchill. For the same reason people see me as a 32-year-old 13-year-old, people saw Haseeb as though he was a 21-year-old 50-year old. His age has been completely ignored, when it is actually the clear answer to, "Why, Haseeb, why?"

While I am no wise old owl, the fact that I am some 8-10 years older than the average online poker aficionado, defined here as those who are regulars on 2+2 and other training sites, gives me at least some ability to look at this situation and say, "If Haseeb was 32, he'd not have allowed this to happen." This is true for those who choose to believe both main sides of this discussion:

As a former 20-something, I am well aware that everybody thinks they are WAY more with-it than they are - people who are successful young, even more so. Let's be honest for a moment. If you are 22, rich, and able to basically print money because of your ability to play poker, you are almost guaranteed to have a warped view of reality. Because you worked hard to achieve what you did, you are granted a high level of self-worth, making you apt to have an even more messed up sense of things. The fact is that in a maturity contest, education and family history being equal, I'd take a down-and-out 22-year-old over a very successful 28-year-old any day of the week, and it aint even close.

Men and women are shaped by their past - the tougher the decisions, the more difficult the path, the more life experience. I can name a number of people I know who range from their early 20's to late 40's who have an incredibly inflated notion of their own wisdom and maturity yet would laugh hysterically at the assertion that I trump them in this very category. They've been fortunate to have things go their way, making bereft of the hardships that a "normal" person has endured. Show me a millionaire that has never worked an $8/hr job, and I will show you a person with a warped sense of self and a distorted view of the real world and how it works.

I am certainly not suggesting that there are not exceptions to any of what I've said. And please keep in mind this is all based on assumption of the health of individual's surroundings and overall mental state from the time they are born until present day (I am not talking about the children of an abusive father here). I am speaking in strong generalities based on years of self reflection and the societal analysis of a thoughtful and introspective person. These words have been my opinion presented as fact, because to me, they are.

The moral of the story is that all three principals in this scandal are 21 or younger. They have all been rich beyond dreams since before they were old enough to graduate college. The fact that more of our young poker hero's haven't done something that ranks 100/100 on the retarded scale is an absolute fucking miracle. Considering how we glorify insane, ridiculous, and irresponsible actions like prop bets that threaten the health of friends, it is pretty lol when we get upset because some young kid acted like a kid often does. That there are legions of 20-somethings decrying the actions of DIH and JM when they would have acted the exact same way if they had been in that situation is probably the biggest single source of outrage that I have over all of this.

I know that a lot of you are rolling your eyes thinking I am crazy.

"If I was young and wealthy I'd be different"

"I would never let this happen"

"I am too responsible to go busto, especially if I had that kind of money"

"I would think it through more"

I hate to break it to you, but you are probably not that one guy who at 23 has the wisdom of a man at the top of the mountain. And if you think that you are, all I can say is that your belief is proof that I am right.

-Jeff

Edit: Fixed AA hand history

After living in Vegas for 2 months, I finally got out to a card room (Red Rock) to put in a proper session. Because of the players at my table, and one next to us, it was absolutely the most interesting night I've ever spent playing. But first, some hands...

-The 5th or 6th hand of the night, I picked up KK and raised to 15 from the blinds, folding out 2 of the 3 limpers. Flop was AXcXc. I bet, he called. I led the turn, a blank, and got called again. At this point it was clear he had an ace. River was ck/ck and he tabled A7o. I lost about $60, which was the worst hand I suffered all night.

-Interesting hand of the night: AA on the button!!! There were 3 limpers, I made it 17 and got 3 callers (BB came along). Flop: 59Qr. BB, older guy who just sat, leads 50 into ~65 (he has ~75 behind). Very tilted guy (he had taken a 3 outer and lost QQ AIPF in the last 20 minutes) to his left thinks and tilt calls (~50 behind). Drunk guy shoves for 45 total. I put the drunk guy on exactly 55. From watching him play, I think he puts in a PFR w/ 99, AQ, and KQ and know he does with QQ.The bottom o f his range is QJ, which is unlikely with a big bet and call in front (he had proven he could fold here). As far as the other two guys, I was sure one of them had to have a big Q and was pretty confident that neither would not fold a hand like AQ to a shove. BB fit the profile of a guy who overplays TPTK and tilted guy wasn't going anywhere with the size of the pot. I'd find it hard to believe that the BB would bet so strong on such a dry board with 9's or Q's. Tilted guy could have anything from Qx to JT to Q9. Based on all of that info, I decided to shove, sure I was getting called somewhere. I got called in BOTH spots. The board bricked out, drunk guy tabled 5's, tilted guy mucked, I suspect with JT, and BB tables two black aces for a chop of the side pot. I lost ~30 on the hand.

-KdJx on the CO, one limper, I make it $10, btn flats, hu to the flop: T62dd. I cbet 16, btn calls. The btn is a station. If he limped a hand pre, he was calling a raise 100% of the time. He chased draws and ALWAYS bet when checked to HU. Turn is a Q. I thought about betting, but realized I am not repping much by doing so, esp vs a guy who is likely not folding any of his range here. I decided to check/call and bet any 9, A, K, or diamond. I got the diamond, led $28, and raked the pot.

-The one hand I REALLY wish I had back.... AsQx in LP 6-handed. I raise to 10 and get called in one spot by a blind. He is a young guy, seems to be not a great player, but our history is only a few orbits. Flop is T52ss. He checked, I bet 11 and he min raised to 22. I called, looking to take it away as I put him on a vulnerable made hand like JT, etc. The turn is a blank and he checks, which makes me sure he has 66, 77, 88, 99, or Tx. I feel like I could have bet here and fired any river and gotten a fold a ton of the time. Instead, I decide to check and bet the river. Not sure if I like that choice, but whatever. The river is a great card, as the K falls. He checks and I, for who the fuck knows what reason, tank for a minute and check back. I just completely bailed on the plan.........no clue why......just terrible. Before he flipped his cards over, I called out his hand, he smiled, and I mucked as he tabled QT.

Other than that I had about 15 pp's that saw a flop and I didn't make one set. I looked down at AQ, AJ, KQ, KJ, QJ, etc. about 5000 times and never really made a hand. I didn't win a single showdown and only won one hand that saw a river. It was a pretty painful night poker-wise.

All that said, it was a great deal of fun socially. I had a drunk Armenian to my right all night. He had a friend by his side whot is a Brazilian Jiu Jitsu instructor that has his belt under a Carlson Gracie black belt (I forget his name). It was pretty awesome to talk to him - he clearly knew his shit. He said he hosts Rousimar Palhares whenever he is in town. Anybody that follows UFC or BJJ knows that dude is a f'n killer. His leg locks are SCARY. This guy keeps good company! Oh, I forgot that he said he often works as a body guard for the Saudi Royal Family when they are visiting anywhere on the West Coast. He spoke fluent Arabic, which is how he got the jig.

So these two Armenian guys have another friend sitting at the 2/5 table right next to us. It turns out he is John Dolmayan, the long time drummer for System of a Down. I have been a big System fan for more than a decade, so it was very cool to meet him and chat with his friends. They were all very nice guys who ended up giving me a standing invite to their private UFC parties at Red Rock. I look forward to taking them up on it and hopefully someday scoring some System tix and/or BJJ lessons.

Speaking of the drunk Armenian...he was massively entertaining. He ragged on everybody at the table, but it was in a non-douchey and pretty funny way. He had us all in stitches for 5 or 6 straight hours. One of his favorite targets was Frank.

Lets talk about Frank for a bit!

This dude sits down with $150, a big ugly watch, and a stripper looking girl (later confirmed when her friend, who was CLEARLY a stripper, came over to chat). He isnta-noticed my CR shirt (I wasn't thinking when I got dressed) and asked me where I got it. I told him I work here, which was the end of the discussion. Or so I thought. 10 minutes later he asked me who I knew at CR. As I kinda had my spider senses tingling, I told him, "everybody." And that was the end of the discussion, or so I thought. Fast forward 10 minutes:

"You know Brian?"

"Hastings or Townsend?"

"Townsend"

"Yeah"

"He is a good guy"

"Yeah, he is"

"What about leather ass?"

"Yeah, a bit"

And that was the end of the discussion. Or so I thought.

Basically, he was BEGGING me to ask him who he was. He really wanted to tell me....you could see it. Finally he couldn't take it any more and handed me his business card:








He proceeded to donk off all his money in the weakest possible way. This guy was so weak it was amazing. He kept check/guessing, putting himself in spots on the river where he had to decide to call/fold. Inevitably he ended up folding and saying, "I'll let you bluff me this time."

A bit later a guy sits and sees the business card before rolling his eyes and saying, "That guy was here?" According to this dude, Frank is totally busto and known as one of the worse regulars in Vegas. I guess he also had a booth of some sort at the WSOP. It also bears mentioning that the drunk Armenian spent the rest of the night flashing Frank's card every time he was in a big hand, trying to intimidate people. It was pretty funny.

This morning I checked out Frank's book on Amazon (http://www.amazon.com/Eat-Professional-Poker-Players-Alive/dp/0578011271/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1311787872&sr=8-1). Here are two of the four reviews:

"This is far and away the worst poker book I have ever read. I didn't even buy it, someone gave it to me because they said it was the worst book they had ever read and they didn't want it anymore. I couldn't even make it all the way through the book with all of the grammatical errors, spelling errors, and idiotic sentences. If you have watched any poker on TV, you know more than you could ever learn in this garbage rag. I would bet money that anyone giving this book a positive review is the actual writer of the book or someone related to him."


"I read the first half of this book out of morbid curiosity after playing live poker at the Venetian with the author a while back. The guy is a terrible player, and the book is horrible. If you play regularly with someone you'd love to beat on a regular basis, give them this book as a present. If they're dumb enough to read the whole thing, they're bound to become worse.

Apart from that, avoid this book."

lulz

Overall I really like Red Rock's room. The play was much more passive than I am used to on the strip (not that 1/2 or 1/3 is that aggro anyway) with a virtual lack of complete idiot donators. I am going to try and put at least 2-3 more sessions in before I decide if I am OK there or need to venture to the tourist-rich lands of MGM, Mirage, etc.

-Jeff

I just got home from home. Translation: We just flew back to Vegas from South Dakota. My Great Aunt Lillian passed away Sunday morning after short battle with pneumonia. Don't be too sad for her - she was 91 and still living at home alone on the farm she and my Great Uncle helped build. But before I get into all that, I have a little story about a confrontation I had with a flight attendant a couple hours ago...

We were in row 23 (of 30), which was one ahead of the exit row. I had the aisle, my wife the middle seat, and my daughter the window. During preflight instructions a flight attendant came back to address those in the exit row. One of the people sitting there looked perhaps too young.

staring directly at the kid, and in a very annoyed, snotty, and totally unnecessary tone

"How old are you?"

"16"

long uncomfortable pause

"When did you start driving?"

"I got my permit in March"

long uncomfortable pause

"Have you read the emergency instructions?"

"No"

"You need to. Now."

Then she began her spiel about being in an exit row, in which at some point she stared him down and said, "YOU MUST BE 15 YEARS OLD TO BE IN AN EXIT ROW." Once she walked off, the kid decided he was going to grab her and show her his ID to prove his age. When he did, she just said, "OK" and walked off.

Sometime during this, my wife reminded me that this attendant worked a previous flight we took with the same carrier (Allegiant). I didn't recall, but Amber said that she was quite rude to several people on that flight as well. That occurred more than a year ago, and Amber still remembered it.

About 10 minutes after takeoff, my daughter said very worriedly, "I just pooped in my pants." We'd not yet been cleared to move about the cabin, but I decided that this was enough of an emergency that it couldn't wait for anything. I grabbed her and went back the 7 rows to the bathroom. As we were returning, we had to step into an empty seat to wait for two attendants to go by with the snack cart. The bitchy one stopped....

"Sir, it is NOT safe to be out of your seat"

"I understand that, but my 4-year-old needed to use the bathroom. There was no waiting."

"It is NOT safe to be out of your seat"

"The alternative would have been to let her shit her pants."

I said that pretty loud and in not that friendly of a tone. Then I turned to walk away. She grabbed my arm.

"Sir, it is my job to inform you that it is NOT safe to be our of your seat. Please don't argue with me."

At this point I was pretty fucking heated. She was attempting to make an example out of me or embarrass me or whatever. I am not sure if I looked liked a rookie traveler or what the fuck her issue was, but I've flown a lot over the last several years. And in that, I've seen 7-8 examples of parents rushing with their kids to the bathroom during ascent or descent. In no instance have I ever seen an attendant so much as say a thing to them. When a kid has to go to the bathroom, they HAVE to go NOW. If they don't do it in a bathroom, they are doing in their seat. Those are the options. Period.

I don't know about you, but I don't want to spend 3 hours in close quarters next to a kid with pants full of shit:

1. shit stinks
2. kids cry and scream when sitting in their shit

Not my idea of a good flight. So I did what I had to do.

I understand it was her duty to say something, and that's fine. Had she not been a cunt and informed my of my error, I would have said what I did, explaining the situation, she would have nodded, and life would have been great. Instead, I got treated as though I was riding a unicycle while juggling flaming swords and a live rattlesnake.

I so badly wanted to tell this bitch to fuck off. I wanted to get in her face. I wanted to spit on her. But I don't really wanna go to jail. So I made some snotty remark about how I understood, called her a cunt under my breath, and sat down (where I continued to call her names, much to the bemusement of the people around us).

As we exited the plane, my wife heard her tell another attendant, "She is the one who was in the bathroom".

Fucking cunt.

-------------------------------

I grew up on a farm that was 2 miles from my grandparents and 3 miles from my Great Aunt Lillian and Uncle Tony. We all farmed together, seeing each other daily throughout my childhood. Tony and Lillian got married in their 40's and never had kids of their own, so they became unofficial grandparents to my mom and her siblings. Once they grew up, that treatment was deferred to their great-nieces and nephews. Uncle Tony passed way almost a decade ago, leaving Lillian alone on the farm. My parents, and to a lesser extent, because he has young children, my Uncle Carl, took care of her. She got around well enough, able to cook and clean and go to church on her own. But when it came to longer drives, like the 35 miles to Aberdeen to see the doctor, she relied on my parents. We have all been extremely close this past decade. Enough so that we named our daughter "Ava Lillian" in her honor.

She contracted pneumonia a couple weeks ago. My mom took her to the doc, who gave her meds. It didn't really clear up, getting worse over the weekend. A week ago Tuesday they ended up taking her to ER via ambulance. Once in ICU, things looked like they'd be OK. But on Friday, her condition worsened to the degree that it became clear she wouldn't make it to the 4th. She passed away about 4:30am Sunday morning.

Being so far from home during all of this was very difficult for me. I waged an internal battle, questioning my decision to be here. I really can't explain how hard this was to deal with. I guess I kinda knew that I may never see her again when I said goodbye. She was the only person who caused me to openly weep as we hugged before I took off.

As I have for each of my other grandparents and my Uncle Tony, I eulogized her. Considering how much I've grown in the 10 years since I last did one, I think this was my best. It was not easy and took me around 4 hours in total to complete. I'm not sure anybody reading this cares, but I feel compelled to post it, so heregoes...

Grandma Schwab and I put in a lot of hours together when I was younger - she was the go-to baby
sitter. One of my earliest memories is of us listening to a cassette of The Muppets in her '84 Tempo on
the way home from Aberdeen.

I was to be able to spend a lot of time in my teens with Grandpa Schwab and Uncle Tony, listening to
them argue in the shop about, well, everything.

When I reached adulthood, between my softball games and our visits to her house, I saw Grandma
Miller at least twice a week.

Then, much too quickly, they all passed. Somebody had to step in to fill their shoes.

It is not that Aunt Lillian was never there, but now she was there more. Or maybe she wasn't? Maybe it
was just that without John, Carol, Tony, and Helen, I noticed and appreciated her presence to a degree I
hadn't before.

As a 10 year old, mowing her lawn for minutes at a time, working my way towards the first of a half
dozen water, candy, or ice cream breaks, I didn't necessarily appreciate what I had.

As a teenager, spoiled by being surrounded by everybody I knew and loved, I hadn't really learned the
lesson of how here today and gone tomorrow life really is.

But as a young adult, I started to get it. I needed her more and she came through.

Aunt Lillian became a regular at softball games. She started showing up at Easter and New Years day
dinners at my dad's sister Rita's house. Two or three times a year she took us all out to dinner, simply
for the joy of treating us.

It is not that she wasn't there before, but now, with Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle Tony gone, she
needed us nearly as much as we needed her. She relied on us for something as simple as getting her out
of the house, and we relied on her for more complex things, like being the last bastion of the old guard -
our link to the past.

Perhaps the most unique thing about Aunt Lillian is that she was never cross. Well, not never, but
certainly never in front of me. I quite literally have no memory of seeing her upset, frustrated, or
even mildly irritated. I've never heard her say a bad word about anybody. She was always in the most
amazing of spirits, even throughout her final days.

When I awoke on Sunday and learned that Aunt Lillian passed earlier that morning, the first thing I
did was call my mother. I asked, "What were her final words?" Mom told me that the last thing Aunt
Lillian had said to her was, "Well, this is a bummer." I don't know about the rest of you, but if I am in a
hospital bed for more than 10 seconds I skip right past "bummer" to words that are, you know, bit less
dignified. Yet there she was, fully aware of her mortality, of the gravity of the situation, and all she cared
to elicit was, "This is a bummer".

A bummer indeed.

This is the first in at three part series chronicling the relocation of my family from a small town in North East South Dakota to Las Vegas. Due to the surrounding circumstances, what I've written is intensely personal and often emotional.

Thank you for reading and please, as always, leave copious feedback.

Other things of note about the move itself:

-The moving truck overheated twice. The first time was just West of Denver in the mountains. The second was in the mountains again, this time in Southern Utah. Both times it was a matter of pulling over for 20 minutes to let it cool. The stop in Utah was actually pretty amazing. I was a bit ahead of our caravan so I got out and wandered a few hundred feet to the top of a deep gorge. It was beautiful, one of Mother Nature's finer landscapes.

Speaking of Mother Nature, the drive from Denver to Vegas was spectacular. If you ever have a long weekend to blow and live in the area, you owe it to yourself to make the trip. I can't tell you enough how beautiful of a drive it is.

-During the descent of the aforementioned mountains in Utah, we had a couple events. The first was some really strange weather. It went from 85 degrees to 45 in about 15 minutes. The change brought sleet and hail.

We also had our only gas incident of the trip around this time. I had 3/4 of a tank when we set out in the morning. Generally speaking, that should have been good for about 300 miles or so. Then we hit mountains and went about 200 miles between gas stations. The last 20 miles I kept it at about 40mph to conserve fuel, even shifting into neutral and coasting down any slopes. When we pulled in to a gas station, I took a pic of my gas gauge. Filling up took almost exactly 1/4 gallon under my tank's capacity.

-My dog's ears wouldn't pop. This lead to her yelping and howling as we climbed and descended. To comfort her I put her in the front seat of my truck so she could snuggle up. Once there, she sat on my lap, her head pressed into my chest so firmly that it felt like I was breathing while submerged in wet cement. 60 pound dogs do not belong on your lap in a car, or anywhere else for that matter.

-I ate a lot of Apple-O's.

We finally pulled into Vegas on Sunday night at about 8pm. Coming over a hill to see the city was a watershed moment.

The following morning, Monday the 30th, we got signed onto our lease and started unloading the truck. Two friends, Joe Coplan (asufan23) and Jesse Knox (knox828), come over to help. Joe found a box of rubber gloves and a plastic princess crown. He looked adorable before having to jet a bit early. At least he plugged one of our toilets as a parting gift...

Jesse stuck around for the duration - he was the real hero of the day. Without his help I'd still be unloading. We ended the festivities by celebrating at a Chinese all-you-can-eat called Jumbo Buffet. The place was filthy, but the food was average (and cheap).

With my parents set to go home on Thursday, and Amber starting her new job, I spent the next two days leading the effort to unpack and settle in. This was interrupted by learning we messed up and booked flights for my parents on Wednesday. It was very upsetting, especially considering we had plans for them to see the touristy side of Vegas that night (I love playing tour guide). In spite of the bad news, we had an awesome lunch at a sushi place across the street (Sushi Yamaguchi....so good) and sent them on their way.

Somehow during the move both of our DVR's got messed up. The Direct TV installer had new ones mailed to us. Then there was an issue getting them set up - apparently there is an issue with some line in our building which I've found out prevents us from having both Cox and Direct TV. So now I need anew ISP. In all of this, we lost our DVR contents, including multiple season finales. Not a world ender, but yet another annoyance in this whole process. We still don't have it all fixed. Speaking of which, I need to make a quick call.

OK, back.

Thursday the 2nd was our 10th wedding anniversary. To celebrate, we had dinner at Rosemary's Restaurant on West Sahara.The food was quite good and the service was out of this world. From there we went to a Le Reve at Wynn. It was one of the best things I'd ever had the pleasure of attending. We were both blown away for the entirety of the 80 minute show. I'd see it again in a heartbeat.

On Monday I kissed Amber goodbye and hitched a 7am flight back to Aberdeen. I got in around 5pm, and was beyond happy to see my daughter was waiting in the terminal. After nine days without her, especially with all the mental turmoil I'd gone through, it was one of the best moments of my life.

The week was spent back and forth between my parents and my brother-in-law's house. Ava had two dance recitals, which were fun but stressful experiences. While I am not good at this particular aspect of being a parent - I don't do hair and makeup - it all went off without a hitch.

On Thursday we said our goodbyes to our family. Friday we awoke very early for our flight home. Ava had never flown before and was super excited. As is typical, we sat on the runway for what seemed like an eternity (I wanted to go home, Ava wanted to fly). Aside from that things went great. She was a trooper, even eliciting compliments from multiple passengers for her behavior.I beamed.

The story ends, for now, with me choking back tears as Amber and Ava were reunited after 14 days of being apart. I am honestly not sure where this adventure will lead from here. I do know that no matter what happens, even if we move back at the end of our lease, I will never consider any of this a failure. We did something so many others we know would never attempt. I am proud of that fact, even If I am still undecided as to the wisdom of it.

-Jeff

This is the first in at three part series chronicling the relocation of my family from a small town in North East South Dakota to Las Vegas. Due to the surrounding circumstances, what I've written is intensely personal and often emotional.

Thank you for reading and please, as always, leave copious feedback.

We were able to bump up the closing on our house to the 27th, which was also our departure date. We intended on loading a moving truck starting Wednesday the 25th, then shoving off late Friday after our daughter, Ava's, preschool graduation. We'd then leave Ava behind with Amber's parents for a week (she had two dance recitals and we really did not want to make the25 hour drive with a 4-year old). Once we got moved in to our place, I was going to fly back, spend a week in South Dakota and finally end the process by flying to Vegas, Ava in tow.

During all of this, my stress level was such that I was having intermittent chest pains for most of the 9th and 10th. As the job thing was being settled and the reality of it all set in, I amazed myself and was somehow able to function well enough to get things handled. Plane tickets were purchased, a route plotted, and a 24-foot behemoth of a moving truck rented. All we really needed a place to live.

I starting digging a bit, finding a number of apartment complexes in the area. We pursued one in particular, which is where we ended up. Of course we didn't have it locked up until May 23rd, four days before we were set to leave. If it had fallen through, I likely would have been sleeping at Texas Station for a week...

It is nice enough in our new place. We have two bedrooms, a patio, granite counters, stainless steel appliances and in-unit laundry. The grounds are nice, with a pool, hot tub, gym, and a good amount of space to walk the dogs throughout the gated community. People seem mostly friendly and the noise level is perfectly acceptable. Our lease is six months in length, but will likely end up being a full twelve by the time we are ready to buy a house.

The move itself was an abject disaster. We were in a 2400 square foot house with four bedrooms and a two stall garage. I like to fix/build things, so I had a ton of tools and related equipment. Despite selling $2000 worth of clothes, furniture, etc., we ended up with way more than the moving truck, or our apartment, would fit. I ended up giving away my awesome, massive work bench to my dad. We also threw away the racing seat/stand/steering wheel setup for Gran Turismo 5 and a host of other things. Even having done so, I was forced to rent a 5x8 UHaul trailer for nearly $600, or about half what I paid for our moving truck (do the math on that).

We FINALLY got everything loaded at 3pm on the 27th, two hours AFTER closing on the house (thanks to the Malsam's for allowing that to happen!). After a 16 day sprint from the day she accepted the job to the day we left, we were at a point of exhaustion we'd never experienced before.

I cannot impress to you enough how difficult this all was. It was legitimately the toughest stretch of my life. My wife and I looked a teach other several times and thought, "What the fuck are we doing this for?" If not for each other, our family, and our friends, who were largely amazing in the lead up to the move, there is no way this could have happened.

To wit, if I had to do this over again, I'd sell almost all our stuff. We would have been much better prepared and much less stressed. It would have made things soooooooo much easier that I cannot even begin to imagine...

Here we were, on the 27th, at the end of my daughter's pre-school graduation party. We loaded her up, went to my in-law's, kissed her goodbye, and took off on a 300 mile drive at 9pm.

My dad drove the moving truck, I had my Tahoe with the trailer and my mom and wife were in her Venza. Let me tell you something about being alone in a car for six hours after leaving the only place you'd called home for 32 years:

You think.

A lot.

I thought about the idea of moving from a town of 25k to one of 2 million. I thought about my job security. I thought about my family and friends and how much I'd miss them. But mostly I thought about my daughter. For 1500 miles, 25 hours, I spent almost all of my time thinking about Ava.

I thought about how we were taking her away from everything she knew - her grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends, home, back yard, grass........all of it. I thought about how she was being moved to an entirely new area, where she could not play in the front yard unattended, where she'd have no yard at all for at least six months, where she'd not get to grow up seeing her grandparents all the time, where schools were worse, where it would be only her, me, and her mother.

I felt bad. I felt guilty. I felt like turning around.

Never mind the deterioration of our situation in South Dakota, for the first time in my life, I felt like I'd put myself and what I wanted in front of what I perceived to be best for her.

As a parent, your job is simple:

1. shower you child with love
2. keep them safe at any cost
3. prepare them for the rest of their lives

The first will never change, no matter where we live. But the other two, I felt like I had jeopardized to a degree. Sure, a ton of people grow up in urban areas and turn out to be wonderful people. But taking that into consideration at the time was difficult.

I've not told anybody this, not even Amber, but I cried. Sitting in my Tahoe all alone, I cried for miles and miles.

I thought, and I cried.

I am still not sure how I feel about what we are doing to our kid, especially now that we found out open-enrollment is closed for the public school system, putting her in a much less than desirable kindergarten class (the school is safe, but it is old, in a not amazing neighborhood, and has a long history of underperforming test scores). But the fact is, she is MUCH more resilient than Amber or I, and, at least so far, seems to be as happy here as anywhere else.

This is the first in athree part series chronicling the relocation of my family from a small town inNorth East South Dakota to Las Vegas. Due to the surrounding circumstances,what I've written is intensely personal and often emotional.

Thank you for readingand please, as always, leave copious feedback.

This past year has been pretty trying for my wife, Amber,and I. In addition to some familial strife and a second consecutive difficultSouth Dakota winter, one of the five snowiest on record, my wife's jobsituation had been less than perfect. She was employed in a nursing home as a licensed social worker. The home's census, or number of residents, had beensteadily dropping for the previous year or so. The falloff came with acorresponding reduction in revenue. With less people to care for and less moneyto spend, corporate HQ mandated fewer hours for staff.

In 2010, my wife earned about 15% less than in 2009. She waswell on her way to seeing an additional 11-12% drop in 2011. Considering herprofession's salary range in South Dakota and some previous spending snafus(nothing major, but several minor), those numbers led us to a point where wewere living nearly paycheck to paycheck.

To help offset the loss of income I started dealing in a local poker gamea couple of nights a week. I did that for six months or so, usually gettinghome at 3-4am, then starting work for CR at 9 the next morning. Once that driedup, I moved on to a shelf stocking position at a local hardware store (Menards)from 5-9am, six days a week for a paltry $7.85/hr.

On top of everything else, I'd undergone twosurgical procedures on my behind. Coupled with having my appendix removed theyear before, we had mounting medical bills.

All of this meant stress. Financial stress, stress about myhealth, stress from a lack of sleep, marital stress, stress at work...stressabound.

We'd casually entertained the idea of moving for years. Itwas never seriously considered because of our love for our large, close-knitfamilies. We're also blessed with a ton of friends. Basically,we had everything we needed in South Dakota. Amber and I are also fairly risk averse. Consideringneither of us had ever really lived more than 40 miles from our home town, amove of any distance was always seen as risky.

As the calendar flipped from 2010 to 2011, things had cometo a head. We were both largely unhappy with the direction of things and wereready for a change. One night, while discussing Amber's job situation, I said,"Let's move to Las Vegas." We spoke briefly about it, but as in the otherinstances where I'd made this wild suggestion, we moved on and not much morewas said.

Fast forward a couple weeks to late January. Amber was onthe way home from doing some out of town consulting work. My phone rang.

"Let's do it."

"Do what?"

"Move to Las Vegas"

"..........."

"Hello?"

"Are you serious?"

"Very."

The initial plan was to finish up a couple projects on ourhouse, sell it, move in with my parents and look for a job for Amber. Thiswould allow us to clear nearly $200,000 in debt, reset our lives and line usup for a much more stable future. We figured it would take 3-6 months for Amberto find a job of her liking, allowing us to save a not inconsiderable amount ofmoney and spend some valuable time with our families before heading 1500 milesto the desert.

As April came, the snow melted, I was close to finishing ourmaster-bath remodel, the DOJ seized FTP, PS, AP/UB.....you know, standardstuff. When you work for a pokertraining website and your industry is hit by such an event, you worry aboutthings - your job, for instance. As the smoke cleared I was able to evaluatethings. I became comfortable enough with my situation and soldiered on.

The day after Black Friday, some good fortune arose. Afriend of a friend was interested in our house. They came over a couple times,made an offer, haggled a bit, and ended up buying it for the exact amount wepaid three years prior - quite a victory in this market. Without a realtorinvolved, we saved us thousands and thousands in commission fees. Wedecided on a closing date of May 31.

By this time we had broken the news to both of our familiesand all of our friends. Reactions were mixed. A number of people suggested bothdirectly, and behind our backs, that we'd never go through with it. And if wedid, we'd be back before long. None ofthat was unexpected, but was irritating nonetheless.

In early May Amber was looking around at jobs. She foundone in particular that grabbed her attention. The position, working in a localcounty hospital, had good pay, great benefits, and provided a new challenge inher career. She took a stab at it, thinking she was not likely to get hired onat the first job she applied for. We thought even if she did, by the time thehiring process was over and she had given 30-days notice at her current gig,we'd have a couple months to put away some cash and say goodbye to our lovedones.

Her first interview was on Thursday, the 5th ofMay. They told her they'd call back about a second interview if they wereinterested. When they called back the following Monday, it was to offer her thejob. The catch? She had to start on the 31st. As in, 22 days fromthen.

And so the adventure begins...

This last week I did an interview for our local paper (I live in a town of 25k). The guy was at my house for a couple hours and while here, he watched me play, watched some of a CR vid, and checked out Hold'em Manager. Overall, it went fairly well and because he had ZERO concept of online poker and the world we live in, he didn't have any preconceived notions coming in.

Aside from misquoting, or possibly misunderstanding, how many emails my portion of the customer service team handles daily, I think the write up fairly represents the time we spent together.

http://www.aberdeennews.com/lifestyle/aan-1c.04-10-11.605.poker-20110410,0,7883517.story

Let me know what you think.

-Jeff

I don't remember being so excited for a fight in my life. The only ones that come close would be Liddell vs Rampage, Liddell vs Ortiz, and maybe Cain vs Lesnar. Finally getting to see Rua against Jones will be a seminal moment in my MMA watching career. But before we get there, we have a handful of other fights to cover. Because I have a lot to do today, you get abbreviated picks, but they are picks nonethless...

Under Card

Luiz Arthur Cane finds the striking that had him on everybody's list before losing to Little Nog and wins with a 2nd round TKO.

I've only seen Njokuani and Barboza each fight once. That being said, Barboza was a MONSTER. His last two fights have been won via TKO due to leg kicks. Everything he throws is done with intensity. Both guys like to strike, so I'll take the guy with the sick kicks! Barboza by TKO in the 3rd.

Pelligrino vs Tibau is almost sure to go to a decision. They are very even in many respects and will nullify one another. It will come down to heart and consistency, something that Tibau lacks and Pelligrino has in spades. Batman by close decision.

I suspect that Ricardo Almedia is too experienced and, frankly, too good for the wildly inconsistent Mike Pyle. If they are both at their best, I may pick Pyle, but the smart choice is Almedia by sub in the second half of the fight.

Decision machine Assuncao can only win if he gets it to the ground. I don't have a good argument for why, but I don't think he succeeds in doing so on this night. Koch has a very dynamic striking repitoir. It will be enough to win by KO in the 2nd.

This looks like the UFC decided to give a showcase fight to Benavidez. His wrestling is so superior and he has looked so good against everybody not named Cruz...I just do see how he loses this. A late stoppage from GNP or lopsided decision is the pick.


Main Card

Lets get this straight: Cro Cop is done. Every fight he comes in talking a good game, but aside from landing a single shot, which is all he throws any more, he doesn't have much of a chance against most any top 15 type guy. While Schaub is not there yet, and while his win vs Gonzaga is not really all that impressive at this point in Napao's career, and while he was out struck by the, um, unrefined Roy Nelson, I think his vastly superior camp and hunger will be enough. If he stays patient and doesn't fo gor the deathblow, Schaub will outwork him on his feet on his way to a handful of takedowns and the decision win.

Nate The Great is not really all that great, but he is really really good - probably one of the 4 or 5 best non-Anderson Silva 185 pounders in the world. Miller is a tough opponent for almost anyone, but Marquardt's size and striking will be a huge issue here. His wrestling and dirty boxing have to have improved as he prepared for the human meat grinder, Yushin Okami (and after his loss to Shonnen last year). If so, that pretty much nullifies anything that Miller brings in terms of threats. Marquardt by TKO or sub after stunning Miller late in the 2nd.

Shalorus vs Miller will be a down and dirty brawl. On the feet, Miller has a huge technical advantage even if he faces a big power deficit. In wrestling, it is very even with one exception - Miller is relentless and has a bottomless gas tank. In any war of attrition, it is hard to pick against Miller, and this is no exception. He wins via hard fought decision.

Wineland has the power advantage, but in every other single aspect, he faces a more skilled opponent. Faber is quicker, has better technical striking, much better wrestling, and a bjj advantage. Plus he wants Cruz, and bad. I can see a scenario where he gets stunned, likely early or in a last ditch late surge from Wineland, but I don't expect that to happen. Faber will win via sub or GNP TKO in the 3rd after wearing his opponent down.

OK, on to the main event!

I've read a lot of articles leading up to this fight. Everybody has an opinion of how this will turn out, but most are in one of two camps:

1. Rua's experience and technical ability wins
2. Jones is too dynamic and has too much momentum

I fall firmly in the first, and here is why....

Too much too soon. I know that Jones is the prodigy. I know he is going to be champ. And I suspect he goes down as one of the greatest fighters in the history of the sport. He is one of the first of the coming younger class of uber-athletes to hit MMA - I am talking guys with world-class levels of athleticism who choose to fight over something like the NBA or NFL. But at some point, a 23 year old isn't ready for this. We've seen it before (ever heard of Vitor Belfort circa 2004), and I think we are about to see it again.

He is waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy over-hyped at this point, and it sounds like he is starting to buy into it: http://bleacherreport.com/articles/638957-ufc-128-what-happened-to-the-humble-jon-jones-we-heard-so-much-about

Not good, Jon, not good.

What really baffles me is how we've forgotten that Rua out-struck the one guy that everybody thought it was impossible to do so against. They way he handled Machida in both fights showed that he is the single most disciplined, dynamic, and well rounded striker at 205. His kicks are absolutely lethal. He has the old school Chutebox aggression and one punch power. As he showed in the first fight against Machida, he posses the ability to be patient and technical as he picks people apart. Jones may be fast and crazy and all over, but Rua is an all-time great on his feet.

One thing people cite is Jones wrestling advantage, which he has in spades. But Rua is a very high level bjj practitioner. If Jones gets sloppy on top, the fight will end with his arm getting ripped off or neck compressed to the thickness of a straw. If he thinks his weird chokes will work on the veteran, he's wrong.

The other main factor here is that Rua has been so massively disrespected. IMO he should be -200 in this fight, but is +160. He has fought, and beat the best in the world (Rampage, Machida, Liddell, Coleman, Arona, Overeem, Randleman, Nog, and Gono). Jones has wins over 1 fringe top 10 guy (Bader) and some gatekeeper types (Matyushenko, Hamill, Bonnar, and Vera). The level of competition fought is not even close. Not even on the same planet. Not even in the same galaxy!

Could Jones win? Absolutely. Would I be surprised? Not in the least. But if they fight 100 times, Rua wins 65. I am picking the guy who is the much more well rounded fighter, who has fought better competition, who has more experience, has been to deep water, has a proven chin (Jones has NEVER been tagged), who has had a full camp, and who has somehow, inexplicably, been labeled the underdog.

The Pick: Rua, either by late stoppage or decision.

I feel strongly enough that I am willing to do something I rarely do at this point in my life - put my money where my mouth is. I have $200 I'm willing to put up to anybody willing to give me +180 (odds are currently +160/-200, so lets split the diff). Post in the comments or email jeff@cardrunners.com if you are interested. If I don't know you, I'll ask that you ship the money BEFORE the fight. Seeing as how I am CR employee who has escrowed about $20k over the years for various bets and fantasy leagues, you'll have to trust that if I lose, I'll ship your money.

First come, first serve!

-Jeff