Long Drive

Friday morning I left Norwood for Ithaca. I had planned on leaving early in the day, with a stop at Turning Stone.

I woke up at 6:30 AM, which wouldn't be so bad had I not been up until 4:30 AM. This tends to happen to me. When I drink, I get very little sleep. I went to the Bruins game on Thursday and had a couple of Sam Adams, finally going to bed at 4:30 AM.

I felt like shit. I was tired, with a splitting headache. I gulped down a glass of water, drove to the nearby Mobil station, and picked up some Gatorade to replenish my system. Unfortunately, the cute girl who has a crush on me wasn't working there. In fact, I went to that Mobil four times during my short stay in Norwood, and she wasn't there a single time. Truly a shame. Maybe she got a new job.

I drank my Gatorade, and decided that driving 380 miles on 2 hours of drunk-sleep was a bad idea. Instead of getting something to eat and some caffeine, I decided it would be prudent to go to sleep.

I woke up at about 11:30 AM. I took a shower. Then I noticed it was snowing outside. It wasn't too bad, though. My road seemed fine and the snow was barely sticking. I figured it was a local storm, something coming from Quebec, or maybe a squall off the ocean. Stupidly, I didn't check weather.com to see how bad the storm was, et cetera.

I left my house at around noon. I drove to Quincy to open an account at Citizen's Bank. Long story short, one of my friends works there, and they get a bonus for each new account they refer to the bank.

The drive there was troublesome. I drove over I-95 to see what the road conditions were, and it was a mess. I decided to take Route 1 up to 128 and go that way to Quincy. Route 1 is usually pretty well plowed, and the driving is slow anyway without any snow. And if any road would be plowed, it would be 128, the ring that wraps around Boston like a wheel.

128 wasn't so bad. The biggest problem wasn't the snow, it was the other drivers. The road was wet, and there were spots of slush, but nothing that would warrant driving 15 miles below the speed limit in the fast lane. By the way, 128's speed limit is 55 MPH, which means it's 70 MPH. But these fuckers were doing 40 MPH. Very dangerous, because traffic gets bunched up.

Finally, I arrived at Quincy Center, opened my account, and got back onto the highway. The snow was coming pretty good now and driving up to the interchange with I-90 was no picnic. The snow got heavier the further north I went.

I got on the Pike, and traffic seemed to be sparse and flowing. That nice little illusion lasted for about 5 minutes as I found myself in gridlock at 1:30 PM on a Thursday in Natick on I-90. No accident or anything, just scared drivers.

The 50 mile stretch between I-95 and I-84 was tedious and nerve racking. It took 90 minutes. Traffic was just refusing to go at a decent pace.

Finally when the road split at I-84, there was some relief. Of course, by this time, I'm in Western Mass, up in the foothills of the Appalachians, where the snow falls in buckets, and plows are few and far between.

This is when I started to notice the spun out cars on the side of the road. I wish I had started counting them because the total number of disabled and deroaded vehicles I witnessed was staggering.

But I was still going at a good clip, about 50 MPH in the snow. It took me 3 hours to reach Lee Plaze, 8 miles from the NY border. Lee is embedded in the Berkshire Mountains, and the snow was really bad. I got some gas, some mini-muffins, and cleaned my car just a bit. It was then I noticed that my front valence (the front bumper) was absolutely ensconced in frozen brown slush.

I crossed into New York. By this time, I figured getting to Ithaca might take me a much longer time than the 5 1/2 hours I'm used to. The number would probably be 7 or 8 hours. I began calling people and asking them to check the weather for me. You see, there are two ways to get to Ithaca. One can take I-90 west all the way to Syracuse, then take I-481 to I-81 down to Cortland, then 13 to Ithaca. Or, one can get onto I-88 just west of Albany, take that to Bainbridge, get on 206 through Chenango County, then take 79 at Whitney Point to Ithaca. The I-88 route is 40 miles shorter, but the backroads are very hilly and difficult to traverse in snow. I-90 to 81 is a much easier way to drive in bad weather.

I found out that snow covered pretty much the entire state, so driving through Syracuse was my best option.

The roads around Albany were decent, but once I got a few miles west, they were shit. It was getting dark, the snow was getting worse, and the roads were untouched by plows. I was forced to reduce speed to 38 MPH.

Finally, a truck passed me. Trucks can go very fast in the snow. They have excellent traction because they're extremely heavy, have eight-wheel drive, and their mass is spread out onto the road in 18 locations in a very large rectangle. This is contrary to my car, which is very light (so it moves around a lot), has two wheel drive, and its mas sis spread out in a very small square on the road.

Trucks also create huge tracks in the snow. I got behind the truck and rode its tracks. I was able to cruise at 45 MPH. I was able to do this for 50 miles or so. But then, the truck pulled off into a rest stop. I was back on my own.

Here's the thing about unplowed roads. When a road is covered in virgin snow that hasn't been touched, it isn't very difficult to drive through. You can't go too fast, but you can maintain control at speeds upwards of 60 MPH, even if there's 4 or 5 inches on the ground. But if the snow has been driven through, it is incredibly difficult to navigate.

When dozens of cars have driven through snow at different times, the snow becomes very rough. There are numerous grooves that interlock, cut each other off. There are thousands of little bumps that take your wheels off the road, and countless little channels in the snow that guide you out of control.

The road had been well-traversed, but with no single discernible groove. I brought my speed down to 32 MPH. Other cars were going faster than me, but most were 4 wheel drive SUVs, or cars that don't have incredibly old tires like my car does (38,000 miles on them already).

I was 40 miles away from Turning Stone, but decided to stop and take a break. A few plows had pulled onto the road behind me, about a dozen miles or so to my rear. I figured a pit stop would be a good way to allow them to pass me and give me a clean stretch of road to drive on. It worked. I was able to go 43 MPH on the snowy roads around Utica, and eventually I arrived at Turning Stone. It took me 8 hours to drive the 280 miles to get there.

I played poker for 4 hours, hoping that by the time I stopped, the plows would have caught up with clearing the road. I was partially right. I-90 was relatively clean. I got onto I-481, which usually isn't well plowed. But as I pulled out of the toll booths, a plow pulled right in front of me. I followed it for 10 miles or so.

Unfortunately, this plow was making my drive harder than it could have been. Although the road underneath me was relatively clear, the massive cloud of snow kicked up by the plow was really difficult to drive through. The incessant blinking of its yellow warning lights was also giving me a headache. The plow was also going very slow, about 22 MPH. I passed it. The road was covered in snow, but few grooves had formed. I was able to maintain a nice 40 MPH speed.

I-81 was a similar story, but I knew I was getting closer to home. For stretches, I was able to get up to as fast as 55 MPH.

Route 13 in Cortland was a mess. Absolutely no effort to plow it whatsoever. But it's relatively flat between Cortland and Ithaca, and I was able to go 45 MPH. that is until I came upon a tentative driver going 22, but after I passed him (which I rarely, if ever do in the snow), I was able to go my desired speed.

I figured Ithaca would be messy, but still manageable. The City usually does a decent job of plowing during a storm. I was wrong. Driving down from Cayuga Heights was nerve wracking. If not for my experience playing World of Outlaws (a video game involving driving race cars on dirt), I would have spun out. The bottom of the hill was shitty, as well. A sudden red light on 13 forced me to hit my brakes, which took their time responding. I got a sharp cramp in my foot from the struggle the brakes had.

Going up the hill was going to be the hardest part. I had driven 385 miles, but the last mile was the most difficult. I wiggled and slid up the hill. Hudson Street was nearly impossible. I don't think my car was pointed straight at all.

I finally reached the top of the hill, and slid around the turn on Coddington. Two guys were walking up the hill and decided that this time was the best time to wander into the middle of the road. With the rear end of my car sliding to my right, I successfully slid through the turn, my front bumper coming within 2 feet of one of the guys. They didn't seem to notice or care. I drove down Pennsylvania and pulled into my parking lot.

The driving took a total of 11 hours, plus a 4 hour stop at Turning Stone. I had left my house at noon, and didn't get to my apartment until 4 AM. I drove by at least 25 spin outs and accidents, not including ones that were on the other side of the road.

I am the best driver in the snow in this part of the country.

A Thought

Why is it that bathroom doors typically have locks, but bedroom doors don't? I understand that when you're in the bathroom, you want privacy, and you're vulnerable. You're either going to the bathroom or in the shower, most likely. However, in the bedroom, you're asleep, which is even more vulnerable of a position in which to be.

Also, the bedroom is where you keep most of your valuable stuff. A computer, your wallet, pretty much anything you spent a lot of money on that isn't a TV is in your bedroom. But you don't get a lock to protect it, or protect yourself whilst sleeping. But if you want to poop with impunity, the bathroom is well protected.

Lotto Addiction Pays Off

No, I didn't win the $370 million. I did, however, have 2 matching numbers, and the Mega Ball (I love that term, Mega Ball) on the same ticket, which means I win $10. Ship it. That's an 844:1 odds against victory. That's like playing roulette with 844 numbers, and only a 10:1 payout. Bad bet.

The real winner of the lottery is the government. Do you realize how much money they clean up on this thing? First of all, they tax about half of the winnings. And I'm sure that not every cent they take in from ticket sales goes to the prize pool or promoting the lotto. Then let's say you want to give some of the money away, more than likely with such a tremendous sum, they're going to tax that gift, too. Let's say I had won, and wanted to give my brother $1 million. The government would probably take at least $350,000 of that, probably more. Let's say you invest the money (the smartest thing to do), the government will receive taxes on your capital gains. If you have a $10 million mutual fund, earning 6% interest, the government is going to tax the money you make from the investment. Let's say you buy or start a business, the government will tax every transaction you make. Let's say you buy a car, you have to pay excise tax on it. Let's say you buy a shitload of stuff from Best Buy, you're going to be paying sales tax. Let's say you buy a house, you're going to have to pay property taxes.

In short, lotteries run by the government are nothing more than legalized gambling, existing in a monopolistic state (no-one can legally run other lotteries), with a massive vigorish (vigorish=the fee paid for placing the bet) if you win, and little chance to actually win.

Still, it's fun. And actually, the odds of the jackpot were justifiable for buying a ticket. The odds of hitting the jackpot are 175,711,536:1 with a 370,000,000:1 payout. BUT, that doesn't include taxes, and your winnings may be split. There were 2 winners of Mega Millions, so the real payout odds turned out to be 185,000,000:1. And that's before taxes, and if the amount is taken as an annuity, and not a lump sum.

Lottery Addiction

I don't gamble. I don't gamble because I'll get addicted to it. I played one hand of Black Jack at Turning Stone once, got dealt 20, dealer hit 21. But after the hand, I wanted that rush again. It seemed so easy to win, all you have to do is get lucky, and hope the dealer doesn't get lucky. That rush of hitting 20, knowing that odds are, the dealer won't beat that, then the crushing 21 being hit, then the nearly overwhelming desire to play again, to make up for that loss...it's too easy to get addicted.

I played Black Jack another time at a card club on the NY/PA border, but that was during the Super Bowl, and I would have played poker if I could have been able to watch the game from the table. The hands were only $2 each, and I knew the $20 I set aside would be eventually lost, so any notion of me winning was put aside.

I play poker a lot, but that is not gambling, not if you're good at it anyway. I have a strategy that wins, and skills that allow me to make proper decisions. Example: folding pocket Queens when someone has Aces, calling with 3rd pair and a 2 kicker when someone is betting their flush draw.

I am addicted to lottery tickets, which is gambling. But I know I will not win anything, ever, most likely. Whenever MegaMillions is over $100 million, I always buy a ticket. Whenever it is over $300 million, I buy 5 tickets. Tuesday, the drawing is for $355+ million. I have 6 tickets (Hess gave me a 6th one for free). I enjoy thinking of the things I could do with that money. Buy a house on Cape Cod for my mother, pay all my tuition and loans, go to grad school, play the $300 Min game at Turning Stone, go to Best Buy with an 18 wheel truck and buy all sorts of shit, open a DP Dough type of place in Boston for the college kids to drop $6.50 on calzones at 2 AM, fly to London, get season tickets to the Red Sox, shit buy a small part of the Red Sox, start a retirement fund, start a production company, buy a parking permit, get a souped up V8 for my car, and so on.

I won't win, the odds are ridiculously high against it. But if I didn't buy the ticket, I'd always think "What if...?" And there's no disappointment when the numbers I have aren't even close to the winning numbers. The odds of winning any prize are 40 to 1. Those are the same odds of flopping three of a kind with a pocket pair, and then turning or rivering four of a kind. Not a great investment. But I can dream. And I can satisfy my lust for action, which might otherwise be satisfied at a $20 Black Jack table, where I'd probably lose more money, and if I did get lucky, win a lot less.

Norwood

I returned to The Commonwealth this weekend. What would posses me to drive 380 miles each way, back and forth a week before spring break? And what would posses me to leave CNY when Turning Stone has a tournament weekend?

Well, it's my mother's birthday today. And my brother went to basic training on Wednesday. He's going into Military Intelligence for the Army as a linguist...or so he says. I mean, if he really were going to become some sort of Intel operative, changing Central American governments, rigging elections in Southeast Asia, and hiring terrorists as contract agents; what more perfect cover would there be as a guy supposedly translating Arabic?

So anyway, my mother has never had a birthday during which one member of the family wasn't around. When my brother was at college, I was at home. When he was at home, I was at college. so I thought it'd be nice.

I got her The Departed, which she hasn't seen yet. She asked for the full screen version. I prefer wide-screen, but full-screen does kind of seem like you're not using your entire television.

I haven't been home since early January. The weather is fucking nice. It's 58 degrees and sunny. I understand that it is nice in Ithaca, weather.com says it is 41 degrees out. That is nice for Ithaca. But my weather is better right now.

I forgot how many Dunkin Donuts there are around here. I went to Best Buy earlier today. I passed by one near Park Place. About a mile down the road, I passed another one attached to a Citgo. Then there's one by the East Street bridge about 2 miles up Route 1. Then another mile and a half down the road is another one. Then across from Best Buy is another one. Best Buy is just under 7 miles from my house, and I passed by 4.

Because I'm bored, I went to Dunkin Donuts web-site and did a little legitimate research with their store calculator. There are 15 Dunkin Donuts locations within a 5 mile radius of my house. There are well over 30 within 10 miles. There are 7 locations in Norwood alone. That's about one location for every 4,000 people. That's a good Dunkin Donuts to people ratio.

I was smoking a cigarette on my front porch, and heard singing. My neighborhood's pretty quiet, very suburban, very little out of the ordinary goes on outdoors. About the only oddity is that my neighbors across the street have a bit of a quasi-farm. They have chickens, a rooster, lots of dogs, a few horses, and a donkey. The donkey is extremely loud at times. So anyway, I hear singing coming from down the street. But it doesn't sound like English. Then I see this guy, about my age, walking down the street, singing the refrain of "Du Hast" by Rammstein. Willst du bis zum tod der scheide, Sie lieben auch in schlechten tagen...Nein! I noticed he was wearing the white headphones of an iPod, and I figured once he realized I was standing on my porch, he'd probably quiet up. Nope. He kept signing. And he wasn't even singing the entire refrain, just those two lines from it. It was Ithaca weird, but in Norwood.

Last night, the drivers on 128 were an embarrassment to Massachusetts drivers. They'd tailgate, OK so far, then pass, doing fine, then slow down in the middle of a pass! I was doing 67 on 128, a decent clip, but hardly deserving of the fast lane, and these fuckers to the side of me would pull up, then go the same fucking speed as me. Then I'd have to manoeuvre like the Red Baron on speed to get around slower traffic, using 4 lanes when there were 3, using all the driving skills in my arsenal. Really, fucking shameful that these guys had Massachusetts plates on their cars.