Friends, I have a confession to make.
I get my hair cut at the Beauty Boutique.
This, from what I understand via clever marketing and advertising campaigns, is the LAST place for a REAL MAN to get his hair cut.
My experience at the Beauty Boutique is as follows: I walk in, Christine cuts my hair, I leave. However, it appears I am missing out on some vital components of a proper manly haircut.
The other day I ate at the Schlotzky's in Moore, which is located next to a SportClips. On the window of the SportClips was painted, "Home of the LEGENDARY steam towel."
I don't get a steam towel at Beauty Boutique, but I imagine that if I did, it would be only an ordinary steam towel, as opposed to the LEGENDARY steam towel offered at SportClips. Surely it's not just a regular towel with some warm water on it.
But a steam towel is small potatoes compared with what ManXscape offers. I drove by a billboard for them the other day, and it read, "Home of the Haircut and free beer."
Is this a bar that offers free haircuts or a barber shop that offers a free bar? Either way, it sounds like the best place in the world. I know that when I go to a bar to drink, I am consumed by the thought that my experience would be better if there were a strong smell of formaldehyde and hair product. And it would be even better if there were a 97 percent chance some freshly clipped hair would find its way into my beer.
And surely nothing could ever go wrong if I'm drinking a beer while my hair is getting cut. No way I could tip my bottle back for that last swig of hairy Natural Light and end up with my own blood all over my face.
I sure hope I can hang out and have another brewski while my headski is getting stitchedski. I mean, who likes to drink ONE beer? The ad makes it sound like I only get one free beer with my haircut, but surely I can belly up to the L'Oreal counter and have a few more while I ponder what to do with the newly-created bald spot in the middle of my head. Maybe, over shots of Jeagermeister and Axe Messy Look Paste, the hairtender and I will have a good laugh about how everyone will be having a good laugh looking at my head the rest of my life.
I'm sorry if I sound cynical. I haven't always had the best luck with haircuts.
Lawton was a dreamland for a decent, cheap haircut. Because of Fort Sill, there was a massive supply of guys who needed regular haircuts. Thus, there were about 10,000 barber shops in Lawton, and the ones near the Army post would only charge $5. You weren't going to get a fancy cut, but I didn't need a fancy cut. I like to be in and out in 15 minutes with minimal damage to my wallet, so Lawton was perfect.
I was still living in Lawton when I got married to Missy, but our wedding was in Oklahoma City. When I got to the rehearsal, she said I needed to get my hair trimmed up. Nothing drastic, just a little spruce-up.
I hadn't had my hair cut in OKC in about eight years, so I wasn't really sure where to go. There was an old-school barber shop near my mom's house where I grew up, and I had gone in there occasionally.
I decided to see if it was still up and running the morning of my wedding. Sure enough, the same two old codgers were in there BSing about golf. Seemed perfect to me.
The old barber who owned the place recognized me and asked what brought me in. I told him I needed only a slight spruce-up for my wedding and he was more than happy to help. Turns out, the old man's skills and mouth filter had slipped quite a bit over the course of eight years. First, he told me that the problem with basketball was that African Americans were not smart enough to make sound decisions on the court. He pretty much said everything backwards and offensive you could ever say about African Americans without using the "N" word.
He then proceeded to screw up my hair. Somehow, I ended up with almost a full inch of bare skin above both of my ears, which is forever memorialized in our wedding pictures. You know how brides are supposed to be bubbling with excitement upon seeing their groom for the first time on their wedding day? As I ran across the room to embrace Missy, she stopped me and asked what the heck happened to my hair.
Missy and I lived in Lawton together for two years before moving back up here. When we got back, I didn't know where to get my hair cut. I just knew one place where I definitely would NOT get it cut.
There's a Super Cuts within walking distance from our house. I figured they were convenient and couldn't be that bad. I was wrong.
Somehow I got the craziest son of a gun on the earth to cut my hair there.
The guy seemed friendly enough, and we made a little small talk before he asked me if I knew anything about the town of Paradise, California. "Do you know anything about this province?" he asked.
"Nope, never heard of it."
"My brother is in jail for attempted murder there..." And we're off.
He tells this long-winded story about how his brother got framed for attempted murder because someone else used his guns to try to try to kill someone. But they didn't die, and his brother had nothing to do with it, and now he's in jail for 20+ years because of that three strikes law in California. Yes, his brother used to be a drug dealer and that's how he got the other two convictions but he doesn't do that any more. I'm offering nothing more than "Mmmm hmmm" and "Oh wow."
Our discussion is interrupted when a woman returns to the shop from her dinner break and is ready to resume cutting hair. He yells at her for leaving him alone in the shop. It was supposed to be his dinner break. Nancy had told him so, and if she thought Nancy wasn't going to hear about this, she was dead wrong. He was sick and tired of covering for her sorry behind all the time, and he wasn't going to take it any more. He informed her that he was leaving an hour before his scheduled shift ended and she had darn well better accept that fact.
Now, back to business. We resume our conversation.
Him: "Do you know the judge in Paradise, California?"
Me: "No."
Him: "You don't know his name?"
Me: "No."
Him: "Do you know anything else about this province?"
Me: "No."
Him: "Do you know how long it would take me to drive out there?"
Me: "No."
Him: "Do you know how much it would cost to take a bus out there? I can't afford to fly. This place doesn't pay anything."
Me: "No."
Him: "Well, I'm going to go out there and talk to the judge. And I'm going to bring my gun. I'm from Texas and I think he needs to know how we operate down there. You know what I mean?"
Me: "You did a really great job on this haircut. It's exactly how I wanted it to look. How much do I owe you?"
Him: "You know what? Nobody tips their barber these days. It's ridiculous. They tip those stupid carhops at Sonic for bringing them an iced tea but nobody got a dime to give their barber."
I tipped him $5 for the second-worst haircut I've ever had and got the heck out of there.
I just wore hats for a couple months after that, and when that got too annoying I went into a random hair place in Moore. One of the ladies was free and gave me a good hair cut. She wasn't crazy or racist. She did a good mohawk when I went that direction. I've stuck with Christine since then.
It was convenient when she quit her old store for a new one closer to my house. I'm not thrilled that her new place is called Beauty Boutique, but I won't be trading her in for a LEGENDARY steam towel or a free beer anytime soon.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Monday, March 11, 2013
Poker and My Faith
Disclaimer: The picture at the top is the only funny thing in this blog. And even that will probably be offensive to some people I know. The next blog will be funny, and it won't be another three months between blogs, I promise. So feel free not to read this -- it's kinda long anyway.
I got a Sports Illustrated a few weeks back that included a very interesting story about NFL players balancing their Christian faith with the violence involved in the game of football and the wealth and fame that come with playing in the NFL.
The violence part irritated me -- it made no sense at all. The author implied that you couldn't be a true Christian and deliver hard hits during the course of a game. Because Jesus said to "turn the other cheek", he would never condone the violence that takes place every Sunday between the lines.
To me, Jesus' teaching would apply immediately after the game. After losing a playoff game this season, a Washington Redskins player punched a Seattle Seahawks player in the face when the teams met at midfield. This would be a great time for the Seattle player to "turn the other cheek" and not retaliate when most of the world would call him a sissy for walking away.
During the game, the players are not doing anything to disqualify them from the kingdom of God. They are playing a rough game, but they are all well-compensated and trained men playing against other well-compensated and trained men. Nobody is on the field that doesn't choose to be on the field, and that choice alone doesn't break any scripture. There aren't 85-year-old women wheeling over the middle of the field on a crossing route, getting blindsided by a 260-pound linebacker.
There are lots of times during the course of a game when a Christian player can choose to honor God with his decisions. I'm not talking about pointing to the sky after scoring a touchdown. The words used when addressing teammates and opponents, and the sportsmanship shown on every snap make a difference.
The SI story pretty much said that in order to be a true Christian, you need to be a spineless pacifist pushover. Plus you are automatically sinning by playing on Sunday. Obviously the author hadn't read 98 percent of the Bible.
The wealth and fame aspect of the story, however, definitely got me thinking. How much easier is it for a schoolteacher who makes $35,000 per year to follow Christ than an NFL player making $15 million? It's not hard to think of the differences in lifestyle.
Even if the NFL player gives 10 or 20 percent of his income away, he's going to have a lot of money left over, and it will be easy to put those toys and possessions ahead of Christ. Plus, even if he is married, he will have women throwing themselves at him in every city. Not to mention the male fans and autograph-hounds that can make someone feel like -- hmmm -- like God himself. Also, playing any sport at the highest level is no picnic. During the season, players work six days a week, and many players watch film on that one day off. Doesn't leave a lot of time for anything else.
There's no doubt that it's hard to follow Christ as an NFL player. Jesus himself says as much: "I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God." (Matthew 19:23-24)
It didn't take me long to find a bunch of parallels between the story on Christians in the NFL and Christians playing poker for a living.
Just as the author of the SI piece seemed to think you couldn't possibly be a Christian and play football for a living, many people -- including a fair number at the church I belong to -- seem to think you can't be a Christian and play poker for a living.
Just as I believe the SI writer's logic was terrible because he had no knowledge of the Bible, many Christians (especially those one or two generations older than I am) have no knowledge of poker. Or the knowledge they do have is false.
Poker is just as close to 100 percent skill as anything else in life -- chess, football, or any job at all. In any given chess match, a world class player might make a major mistake or a novice might play nearly perfectly. That's luck. In football, a blown call by a ref or a tipped pass lingering in the air might be the difference between winning and losing. A middle manager at any job at all might get a huge raise or get laid off, just because his company was bought or sold by the higher-ups. Those things are all luck, but in the long run the top chess players will win the most matches, the great football players will be recognized as such and the cream of the crop of any profession will eventually rise to the top. (Actually, doesn't it seem more likely that luck plays a bigger role in the real world than in either of my other examples?)
If poker were a game of luck, nobody could do it for a living. The casino gets its cut out of every hand, not to mention the costs of food, gas, tipping, etc. But unlike any other game at the casino (slots, blackjack, craps, et al), the players aren't competing against the house, they're playing against each other.
Of course, on any given night, one turn of the card can be the difference between winning and losing. Obviously that's luck. But over the long term, you will either win or lose at poker based on how good you are. Nothing else. Thus, there are at least a dozen people who play poker for a living who regularly show up at Riverwind Casino (where I usually play) and thousands more around the world.
After graduating from OU with a journalism degree in 2002, I spent seven great years as a sportswriter at the Lawton Constitution. Basically, I was paid to watch games, listen to bawdy humor from other sportswriters and then write about the games.
When people in the church (or my family, for that matter) would ask about my job, they always thought it was the coolest job in the world. When I started playing poker for a living, suddenly the reactions from that group of people split 50/50. Half of them still thought I had the coolest job in the world, but the other half acted like my new job was as a crack mule.
Funny thing is, my job now is almost the same as being a sportswriter. Now I play in the game instead of just watching. I listen to bawdy humor from poker players instead of sportswriters. I make more money -- though that's not saying much (sportswriters at smaller papers like the Constitution are literally at or under the poverty line.) And I don't have to write.
I spent a lot of time praying over the decision. Part of me expected God to shoot it down. But I felt more than just peace about it. I felt this was what I was supposed to do. Not for the rest of my life, but for this season, however long it may last. I felt it was an opportunity to better support my family and make a positive impact on a lot of people. Poker is an intimate game -- you get to know people pretty well after a few years of sitting at a table with them for hours on end.
There is a great opportunity to reach out and be a difference maker. But it's awfully hard. This is where I see the other big parallel between poker and the story on being a Christian in the NFL.
The temptations, at least for me, are different than the ones seen by NFL players. One of the criticisms launched by the anti-poker Christians is that poker worships money. While poker is certainly a cash economy, I have never felt it came anywhere close to being an idol for me. I enjoy giving 10% of my monthly profits to various ministries and I don't cheat on my taxes even though it's kind of stupid not to when the government can never prove exactly how much you make.
I also don't have to worry about women throwing themselves at me like NFL players do.
But although I don't face the same temptations as an NFL player, poker presents unique problems for someone trying to serve God. For starters, it's a self-absorbing endeavor. Unlike football players trying to help their team win (or sportswriters trying to help get a newspaper out), I'm playing an individual game with the goal of beating other people out of their money. I spend 10 or 12 hours constantly thinking about the best outcome for me on a given hand. I eat when I want to. I leave when I want to (most of the time). If the game is really good, I might play all night. If I feel like not playing one night, there's no boss telling me I can't. Lots of reasons why it's easy to get my priorities out of whack, and I really struggle with that.
I'll also be the first to admit that there have been many times when I have been the exact opposite of what a Christian should be at the poker table. Whether it's succumbing to peer pressure or getting irritated at the outcome of a hand, I have made poor decisions and said things I wish I hadn't said.
Obviously I wouldn't be a perfect person regardless of my profession, but I have to think there might be a few less bumps in the road had I chosen something else.
I don't really have a good conclusion for this one. I love certain things about my job, mainly the flexibility and being able to spend lots of time with my girls when most people are working. But I also constantly struggle with the thought that my life is flying by and I am not doing much to serve God or others. I know that someday I will do something else, but I don't know when that is or what it will be. I've always been interested in coaching, perhaps that will be it.
Ultimately, I suppose I just need to make the most out of every day, and be grateful for the grace God has given me.
"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus." (Romans 3:23-24).
"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." (Jeremiah 29:11-13)
I got a Sports Illustrated a few weeks back that included a very interesting story about NFL players balancing their Christian faith with the violence involved in the game of football and the wealth and fame that come with playing in the NFL.
The violence part irritated me -- it made no sense at all. The author implied that you couldn't be a true Christian and deliver hard hits during the course of a game. Because Jesus said to "turn the other cheek", he would never condone the violence that takes place every Sunday between the lines.
To me, Jesus' teaching would apply immediately after the game. After losing a playoff game this season, a Washington Redskins player punched a Seattle Seahawks player in the face when the teams met at midfield. This would be a great time for the Seattle player to "turn the other cheek" and not retaliate when most of the world would call him a sissy for walking away.
During the game, the players are not doing anything to disqualify them from the kingdom of God. They are playing a rough game, but they are all well-compensated and trained men playing against other well-compensated and trained men. Nobody is on the field that doesn't choose to be on the field, and that choice alone doesn't break any scripture. There aren't 85-year-old women wheeling over the middle of the field on a crossing route, getting blindsided by a 260-pound linebacker.
There are lots of times during the course of a game when a Christian player can choose to honor God with his decisions. I'm not talking about pointing to the sky after scoring a touchdown. The words used when addressing teammates and opponents, and the sportsmanship shown on every snap make a difference.
The SI story pretty much said that in order to be a true Christian, you need to be a spineless pacifist pushover. Plus you are automatically sinning by playing on Sunday. Obviously the author hadn't read 98 percent of the Bible.
The wealth and fame aspect of the story, however, definitely got me thinking. How much easier is it for a schoolteacher who makes $35,000 per year to follow Christ than an NFL player making $15 million? It's not hard to think of the differences in lifestyle.
Even if the NFL player gives 10 or 20 percent of his income away, he's going to have a lot of money left over, and it will be easy to put those toys and possessions ahead of Christ. Plus, even if he is married, he will have women throwing themselves at him in every city. Not to mention the male fans and autograph-hounds that can make someone feel like -- hmmm -- like God himself. Also, playing any sport at the highest level is no picnic. During the season, players work six days a week, and many players watch film on that one day off. Doesn't leave a lot of time for anything else.
There's no doubt that it's hard to follow Christ as an NFL player. Jesus himself says as much: "I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God." (Matthew 19:23-24)
It didn't take me long to find a bunch of parallels between the story on Christians in the NFL and Christians playing poker for a living.
Just as the author of the SI piece seemed to think you couldn't possibly be a Christian and play football for a living, many people -- including a fair number at the church I belong to -- seem to think you can't be a Christian and play poker for a living.
Just as I believe the SI writer's logic was terrible because he had no knowledge of the Bible, many Christians (especially those one or two generations older than I am) have no knowledge of poker. Or the knowledge they do have is false.
Poker is just as close to 100 percent skill as anything else in life -- chess, football, or any job at all. In any given chess match, a world class player might make a major mistake or a novice might play nearly perfectly. That's luck. In football, a blown call by a ref or a tipped pass lingering in the air might be the difference between winning and losing. A middle manager at any job at all might get a huge raise or get laid off, just because his company was bought or sold by the higher-ups. Those things are all luck, but in the long run the top chess players will win the most matches, the great football players will be recognized as such and the cream of the crop of any profession will eventually rise to the top. (Actually, doesn't it seem more likely that luck plays a bigger role in the real world than in either of my other examples?)
If poker were a game of luck, nobody could do it for a living. The casino gets its cut out of every hand, not to mention the costs of food, gas, tipping, etc. But unlike any other game at the casino (slots, blackjack, craps, et al), the players aren't competing against the house, they're playing against each other.
Of course, on any given night, one turn of the card can be the difference between winning and losing. Obviously that's luck. But over the long term, you will either win or lose at poker based on how good you are. Nothing else. Thus, there are at least a dozen people who play poker for a living who regularly show up at Riverwind Casino (where I usually play) and thousands more around the world.
After graduating from OU with a journalism degree in 2002, I spent seven great years as a sportswriter at the Lawton Constitution. Basically, I was paid to watch games, listen to bawdy humor from other sportswriters and then write about the games.
When people in the church (or my family, for that matter) would ask about my job, they always thought it was the coolest job in the world. When I started playing poker for a living, suddenly the reactions from that group of people split 50/50. Half of them still thought I had the coolest job in the world, but the other half acted like my new job was as a crack mule.
Funny thing is, my job now is almost the same as being a sportswriter. Now I play in the game instead of just watching. I listen to bawdy humor from poker players instead of sportswriters. I make more money -- though that's not saying much (sportswriters at smaller papers like the Constitution are literally at or under the poverty line.) And I don't have to write.
I spent a lot of time praying over the decision. Part of me expected God to shoot it down. But I felt more than just peace about it. I felt this was what I was supposed to do. Not for the rest of my life, but for this season, however long it may last. I felt it was an opportunity to better support my family and make a positive impact on a lot of people. Poker is an intimate game -- you get to know people pretty well after a few years of sitting at a table with them for hours on end.
There is a great opportunity to reach out and be a difference maker. But it's awfully hard. This is where I see the other big parallel between poker and the story on being a Christian in the NFL.
The temptations, at least for me, are different than the ones seen by NFL players. One of the criticisms launched by the anti-poker Christians is that poker worships money. While poker is certainly a cash economy, I have never felt it came anywhere close to being an idol for me. I enjoy giving 10% of my monthly profits to various ministries and I don't cheat on my taxes even though it's kind of stupid not to when the government can never prove exactly how much you make.
I also don't have to worry about women throwing themselves at me like NFL players do.
But although I don't face the same temptations as an NFL player, poker presents unique problems for someone trying to serve God. For starters, it's a self-absorbing endeavor. Unlike football players trying to help their team win (or sportswriters trying to help get a newspaper out), I'm playing an individual game with the goal of beating other people out of their money. I spend 10 or 12 hours constantly thinking about the best outcome for me on a given hand. I eat when I want to. I leave when I want to (most of the time). If the game is really good, I might play all night. If I feel like not playing one night, there's no boss telling me I can't. Lots of reasons why it's easy to get my priorities out of whack, and I really struggle with that.
I'll also be the first to admit that there have been many times when I have been the exact opposite of what a Christian should be at the poker table. Whether it's succumbing to peer pressure or getting irritated at the outcome of a hand, I have made poor decisions and said things I wish I hadn't said.
Obviously I wouldn't be a perfect person regardless of my profession, but I have to think there might be a few less bumps in the road had I chosen something else.
I don't really have a good conclusion for this one. I love certain things about my job, mainly the flexibility and being able to spend lots of time with my girls when most people are working. But I also constantly struggle with the thought that my life is flying by and I am not doing much to serve God or others. I know that someday I will do something else, but I don't know when that is or what it will be. I've always been interested in coaching, perhaps that will be it.
Ultimately, I suppose I just need to make the most out of every day, and be grateful for the grace God has given me.
"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus." (Romans 3:23-24).
"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." (Jeremiah 29:11-13)
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