—who bragged about having left threengirls pregnant, who admitted to beingnan alcoholic, and who expressed hisnleftist politics by taking his charges onnstealing raids in stores. None of thenpsychiatrists questioned the notionnthat saving is abnormal and causesnchildren to explode.n”And he doesn’t relate!” said careworkernM.R.—one must not blamenher for being a lesbian and for havingnhad “a crush” on Bob when he enterednpuberty. But she did turn the boy innbecause he would not allow her to kissnand fondle him.n”He is hard to handle,” said careworkernP.R.—a flabby, malodorousnfellow who bragged about beating upn”queers” and then when very drunknmade a homosexual pass at me.nOn the basis of the above, andnnothing else, the Psychiatrist-in-nCharge, in the presence of psychiatristsnand psychologists, ordered thatnBob be immediately put on heavy sedationnand that arrangements be made tonhave him transferred to a correctionalninstitution!nR.E. Lieb writes from Newfoundland.nLetter From thenLower Rightnby John Shelton ReednPoker Lessonsn(J didn’t write this month’s letter. Mynpoker and fishing buddy Peter Donaldsonndid. Peter’s an Irish Catholic boynfrom Brooklyn, but a fast learner. Afternhe moved from North Carolina to OccupiednVirginia, to take a job in DC,nhe sent back to the Chapel Hill Newspapernsome reflections on what henmissed. I couldn’t have said it better, ornas well, myself. —JSR)nI am a terrible poker player. I knownexactly how bad I am because I oncenplayed with an empiricist—or finagler,ndepending on whether you thinknhe was motivated by science or greedn— who after each game calculatednhow much each of us won or lost.nDuring the two years my friend collectedndata, I lost more than any of thenseven regular players and had the long­nest losing streak. In my own defense, Inshould say that my two-year averagencombined a so-so year, during which Inalmost broke even, with a miserablenyear, during which I funded mynfriends’ recreations.nI am a poor poker player because Inthink of poker as a relaxing diversionnand an occasion for camaraderie. Betternplayers understand the game as annexercise in discipline and a chance tonoutsmart one’s neighbors.nThe Chapel Hill poker game tonwhich for eight years 1 devoted everynother Thursday evening had a historynof almost two decades, during whichnharsh words were exchanged onlynonce. The limits of the game’s goodwillnstartied visitors or new players. If,nfor example, a player accidentally discardednthe wrong card and complainednabout it, the game stopped and anneffort was made to find the incorrectlyndiscarded card — if it was possiblenwithout giving the negligent player thenadvantage of looking at the other discardednhands.nThe regular players were mostlynuniversity faculty, but they ran fromnnew lecturers (some of whom becamentenured over the years) to distinguishednprofessors. Graduate students,na doctor, a lawyer, an insurance salesman,nand an assortment of occasionalnplayers of varying skills and indeterminatenoccupations also played. One regularnwas an outspoken fan of the state’snmost conservative politicians and anothernworked for the liberals. A varietynof religions were represented, of whichnthe most popular seemed to be Somenand None. The game always includednat least one woman; several years ago,ntwo women were regulars.nThe custom was to play every gamenat the same house. We rarely changednlocales and then only when necessary.nOnce we started a card game in a backnroom while our host was dining withnguests in the front of his house. Whennthe host was on sabbatical in Europe,nwe moved to another house. But whennhe returned home, so did the pokerngame. Only country music was permittednduring the game despite people’sntaste for other sounds. Snacksnwere few: popcorn provided by the hostnif he was winning, and an occasionalnbag of chips provided by the previousngame’s big winner. People broughtntheir own drinks, usually beer. We gotnnnfancier when longtime players movednaway: pseudo-black-tie suppers werenheld to say farewell.nThe game’s only absolutes werengood manners and willingness to sacrificenone’s gain, if necessary, for thenharmony of the group. Some of thosenwho sat in from time to time found thengame’s steadfast fellowship amusing;nothers thought it was frustrating. Thenobject of poker, after all, is winningnthe most money. The New York Timesnrecently ran an article by PulitzernPrize-winning playwright DavidnMamet, in which he concluded thatnwinning at poker “means not givingnyour fellow players a break becausenyou value their feelings.” Mametnwould not have lasted in our game.nOnce, one of the Southerners in thengame illustrated the South’s specialncharacter by noting that Southernersnprefer “Where are you from?” ton”What do you do?” as a conversationalnice-breaker. He argued—and I nevernmet a Southerner who disagreed withnhim—that avoiding an emphasis onnwhat one does is based on the beliefnthat what you do is a paltry way tonindicate who you are. Some of us arenwinners and others are not. Southernersnmix denial and sociability as anmeans of coping with the inequalitiesnof life. As with life, so with poker.nA year ago, I moved to Washington,nDC. What strikes me most in my newnhome is how much this once-nSouthern city could use an infusion ofnthe culture and manners characteristicnof my old poker game. Most Washingtoniansnrevel in precisely the sort ofndifferences among people that mynpoker-playing friends avoided. ThenWashington Post, for example, gleefullynprofiles what it refers to as “highpowered,dual-Washington-insidercareernmarriages.” People have to dealnnot only with what they do, but withnwhat their spouses do. Even the city’sncharity is delivered in ways that highlightnthe differences between the havesnand the have-nots. Last winter, a toneyncaterer was contracted to provide tuxedoednwaiters and finger foods at anreception for the homeless, convenientiyndovetailed into a made-for-TVnmovie about life on the street.nAlthough I didn’t take the pokerngames very seriously, I miss themndearly. The time and distance awaynhave made it clear that there werenMAY 1987/41n