Chris The Dealer's blog: "MY CRAZY LIFE"

CAR WASH CHAOS I drive over to the self serve car wash in Fernley this morning, because I was too damn lazy to wash my car on my days off. "Please touch the type of wash you would like," the machine says in an audible voice. I figure I'll give myself a treat and go for the eight dollar super wash and I punch the button on the screen. "Please insert cash." Now keep in mind that I'm not talking back to the machine. I just put five bucks into the slot, then when I try to put in another dollar, the machine won't accept it. The screen flips back to the start menu and says, "Please touch the type of wash you would like." "Okay." (I'm talking to the machine now.) "Please insert cash." "Hey, what about the five bucks I just gave you?" No response. "Goddamnit!" I drive home and call the number posted on the side of the building. A live person answers. I tell her what happened. She says that if I'll meet her there in five minutes she'll give me back my five bucks and a free car wash. I tell her I'm a little pressed for time now but I could meet her there when I get off work at three in the morning. She takes a pass on that one, and offers to send me the money in the mail. That seems fair enough.. Then she says that the next time I'm there at a reasonable hour, she'll give me a free car wash. I thank her for the offer, but tell her that all I want to do is break even. Life sure is complicated here in Fernley.

Today was graduation day at Miss Helen's preschool. Many of the students would be going to kindergarten next year, and it was important that they receive their diplomas to show that they were ready for the next step in their education. A lot of people showed up for the ceremonies. And the snacks were pretty good. The students arrived in costumes, because they were going to give a presentation for those in attendance. Lilly played the part of Bo Peep. Apparently she had lost some sheep and didn't know where to find them. Well, a lot of people tried to help her, but nobody knew where the sheep had gone. Jack and Jill tried to help, but they had both just fallen down a hill with a pail of water and I guess they were in a lot of pain. But eventually, the sheep came home and all was well. Then the graduates arrived. And the undergraduates were there to assist. Ethan was given the honor of holding the flag during the pledge. Lilly ponders the situation. Ethan led the march. And the graduation cake was decorated nicely. Lilly said that the cake was very good. We were all so very proud of Ethan.

So I get this message from some young girl on myspace. Obviously, I'm the guy of her dreams. Here's a little bit of her letter: How's it goin? I'm jessica and I just moved to the Bumfuk area and I wanna meet a nice guy around here :-). I moved here to Bumfuk a couple of weeks ago for work and now that I'm here I have nobody to hang out with! I read your profile... You're cute and I liked what you had to say :-). * * * Once again, it seems that my irresistible charm has captured another heart. Poor girl doesn't even know that there ain't no such place as Bumfuk. I hope she figures out where she really is. I hope she gets some help of a professional nature.

MEMORIAL DAY As I recall, this is the day when we pay tribute to those who gave their lives in service to this country. This is the day when the Old Guard unit at Ft. Myer puts a flag on every grave in Arlington National Cemetery (ANC). It's been a while since I was on that detail. The Cemetery is a nice place to visit. Thirteen miles of roadway, Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, JFK's grave with the eternal flame. I was a member of the Presidential Saluting Battery back in the early seventies. Many of the cannon salutes I was assigned were in ANC - funerals for high ranking military officers. On this particular day, we had a fifteen-gun salute in the Cemetery. Three guns on a hill top, three second intervals. Below us, two hundred meters to the front, an older couple stood in front of a headstone. The order was spoken, "Ready on one. Fire!" The woman screamed, "Stop!" "Ready on two. Fire!" "Stop it! Stop it!" "Ready on three..." She fell to her knees with her face in her hands. The old man knelt beside her with his hands on her shoulders. Happy Memorial Day

I went to the casino at two PM to start my shift and was told that the two to ten shift had been canceled. Hmmmmm... nobody told me about that. Or maybe they told me and I didn't pay any attention. Then I was told to come back at six. Okay - maybe I'll be working from six to two. But no point in driving home. Might as well spend a little time at the poker table. Four hours later, I was twenty bucks ahead. So that's about five dollars an hour - non-taxable. Not bad money for having fun. I check in with the Pencil (the pit boss in charge of scheduling) at six, and I'm told that I still have a job - just new hours. On my third hour of the shift, I tapped out a dealer in his mid twenties. He told the players that they would appreciate me because I was closer to their age. (dumb fuckin' thing to say). So as I stepped forward to the table, I said, "Yeah, and I'm better looking and funnier too." Two of the players were toking well, the third was a little tight and the others started to rag him about it. One of the players looked at me and said, "He doesn't really understand about tipping." I replied, "He probably thinks it's something you do with your hat." Well, that got the third guy loosened up a bit and he started throwing me a chip every now and then. One of the guys lost about six hands in a row and said that he'd had enough. He got up to leave and I gave him a cordial, "Thanks for joining us tonight." One of the other players added, "And thanks for leaving." I laughed and said, "I've always wanted to say that." I had a lot of fun tonight. God, I love this job.

I started the day by driving into the Shell station to fill up my tank. At the next row of pumps, I could hear someone yelling from inside the cab of a U-Haul truck. "You fucked it up! Get your head out of your ass." I decided to mind my own business, but a heavy set Chicano emerged from the driver's side door, looked at me and said, "Isn't that car a little young for you." "It would be if I'd ever grown up." "Did you add those aluminum wheels?" he asked. "Nope, they're stock on the Nismo race car." "What you got under the hood?" "It's a two point five liter V-tec with forced air and a modified exhaust – about a hundred and seventy horsepower." That seemed to perk his interest. "How fast that thing go?" "It redlines at a hundred and fifty." "You been there with it?" "Hell no." "Why would you buy a fine machine like that if you're not going to give it a chance to run?" Okay, time to throw a little bullshit into the mix. "I didn't actually buy it. I won it in a poker game." I was dressed in my dealer uniform. He believed me. His name was Richard. He was traveling from Missouri to San Francisco to take up residence with his uncle. I guess that was his wife in the truck with him. He said that had been the victim of a hit and run while riding a motorcycle a few years ago and showed me all his scars. We finished fueling at about the same time, gave each other a standard homeboy blessing and drove off. The pit class subject for the day was coloring up chips (bringing in a player's cheques and returning a like amount of money in the fewest number of chips possible). Sometimes it can get a little complicated. Jennifer is the assistant instructor. She seems to get angry with me when she thinks I've made a mistake. I never argue with her and usually thank her for her guidance. Today I was coloring up practice chips and she thought I'd made an error. She started yelling at me from across the pit, but she hadn't seen the single green chip among the red ones on the layout. I held it up to show her that I'd done the assignment correctly. Jennifer doesn't like to be shown that she was wrong, especially after making a spectacle of herself. I'm sure that she will be looking for a payback opportunity tomorrow. I don't think she likes me. I think some people dislike me simply because I take up space on this planet, but I know it goes deeper than that because they seem to like other people who take up an equal amount of space. Maybe I remind them of a character in a soap opera, or maybe I look like an old boyfriend who done them wrong. Hell, I don't know. I remember my poker instructor didn't like me because every time he'd come up with a new betting strategy, I'd point out the deficiencies in the concept and calculate the odds in my head to prove the point – he could barely add and subtract with a calculator. I actually appreciated his straightforward candor on my personality defects. At least I know why he didn't like me. He was an asshole.

I just found a photo of one of my father's paintings. He said that he wanted to be buried with it, but I snatched it when his eyes were closed. It now hangs on a wall in my son's house. Not for sale. I love this one.

Bless me now, sweet angel. Kiss my cheek and walk me to the door. Hopes and vague illusions And shattered dreams now lie upon your floor. Sunrise brings the morning. Recollections pale in light of day. Nightfall stirs the spirits, And absolution’s price is hard to pay. When life brings tomorrow, Yesterday is lost; we move ahead. Fading scenes and visions Linger with the thoughts of what was said. The dealer now stands ready, Waiting for a player at his game. Whores and faceless gamblers Place their bets, to him they’re all the same. Will we meet again? Will you call my name in the hours of the night? Will I become another ghost That disappeared from sight?

She was a model in my life art class, Trying to make ends meet. I was a student barely getting by, Living out on the street. We got together, I guess it was love, But the drugs proved to be too much. I hit the pavement off a diving board, And ended up with a crutch. She called to me as I turned my back, And said, "Take me away from this." I turned around and bowed my head, And blew her one last kiss, Then walked away. There wasn't much to say.

follow up to "A TRIBUTE TO SMITTY" (excerpt from SEVEN FIREFIGHTS IN VIETNAM) When the 2d Platoon pulled back into the company perimeter, Staff Sgts. Michael A. Plank and Edward J. Smith and Spec. 4 Leroy W. Rothwell established a three-man outpost position fifteen meters to the right front of the 2d Squad sector. From there they angled M16 and M79 fire across the trail and up the hill. Although the expected assault did not come from up the trail, it did come swiftly. Suddenly materializing from their jungle concealment, fifteen to twenty of the enemy, their AK47s firing full automatic, rushed the 2d Squad. Two paratroopers were hit; then the squad leader, Spec. 4 Shafer, took a fatal round. Sergeant Smith rallied the squad and kept the perimeter intact. It was the first bitter taste of things to come. Minutes later a North Vietnamese force of the same size struck on the opposite side of the trail, near the left front of the 3d Squad. With flanking fire support from nearby 1st Squad riflemen, the second attack was also repelled. At the outset of the battle, two key figures were wounded. Captain Baird was hit twice, but remained in effective command of his company. Captain Lawrence Clewley, forward observer from the 3d Battalion was wounded while directing artillery fire. Spec. 4 Ernie Fulcher directed artillery fire for the rest of the day. At 1400 the 308th F-100s of the Tactical Fighter Squadron hit an area just outside the 2d Squad with 250-pound bombs, napalm, and 20-mm cannon shells. Crouching behind a log in front of the squad, Sergeant Smith and his companions in the outpost felt the concussions of the bombs roll over them. It was very close. A medic who had been crawling toward the outpost, was wounded by metal fragments as he vainly shielded the lifeless body of a comrade. "That second air strike was right in there," Smith recalled. "If we'd been on the other side of the log, we wouldn't be here now." Plank and Rothwell, who had been wounded in the preceding firefight, moved back from the outpost after the last bomb landed, leaving Smith, who was rapidly expending the last of his ammunition. Sergeant Smith, was becoming a favorite target for enemy snipers concealed in the tall trees. Spec 4 Grady L. Madison dashed forward, bringing him badly needed M16 and M79 ammo. Smith reloaded and fired into some trees at his right. A sniper who had lashed himself to a tree limb tumbled out of his perch; head down, his body swayed grotesquely. Shortly before 1500, the wounded Rothwell snaked his way back to Smith. Minutes later, with AK47s stuttering, about fifteen North Vietnamese soldiers bolted from the jungle and charged the 2d Squad. "They came running right at us through the trees and scrub," Rothwell later observed. "We started knocking them down with our fire." Sergeant Smith added, "Those we didn't hit ran past us to the undergrowth on the right. After they swept past us, we heard movement to the right and occasional fire." This wild stampede temporarily ended serious enemy probing in the 2d Platoon area.