You can call me bastin. Lower case ‘b’. I play poker: home games, pub tourneys, at the local casino, online cash sites (a bit) and a free online site. I’m no prodigy (too old, too math deficient) yet I am an adequate player.
So, why then would I want to write a poker blog in the first place? Perhaps because a good portion of my life is spent playing the game.
So, this will be a blog chronicling a tragic existence. This might be more to the point as I do other things that, while are fulfilling to me, have no real impact on the world, nor to a fatter wallet. Those things are making art and organic farming. Actually, not so much farming anymore. It’s just too damn hard stooping down to pull weeds all day and still see more money going out than is coming in. And, as the farm responsibilities diminish, I have more time to make art, and take stock of my life in the form of this blog. Yeah, I could play more poker, but I’m not so sure that’s the route I want to take, which may become more apparent to readers, and myself, as this writing continues over the weeks, months, and who knows, years to come.
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind I am making connections between farming, art and poker. I’m still working that out. It may be that they all share a fickleness. To engage in these activities and expect a positive outcome tempts fate.