I did it. Twelve consecutive days of playing poker and 90 hours later, I earned well beyond the amount to justify the purchase. “I deserve them,” I say aloud, holding them to the light. I turn to the salesman Matthew: “How much?”
“5050 HKD” ($650 USD).
“I’ll take them.”

I walk out of Louis Vuitton beaming. When nobody is looking, I actually skip. The delayed gratification of a lavish purchase silences the ache I felt about spending $650 on a pair of sunglasses. Besides, in Bali, Indonesia there’s going to be plenty of sun.

On the streets of Bali one can find tons of freshly picked coconuts. Local Balinese women cut off the tops with a machete.

I have 15 minutes to kill at the airport. I run to the gift shop to pick up some last minute items. They’re only 100 HKD ($12 USD). They look just like mine!! What the heck? “One for $650 or two for $662.” I add them to my cart.

As I land at the airport in Ubud, I look for the sign that reads my name. “Alec Torelli.” Mare, my driver, takes me from the airport to my villa. $20. When I arrive, chef Katut greets me. “Welcome Sir.” A private pool, outdoor kitchen, and hand picked fruits spell paradise.

A local Balinese fruit, the mango steen is a a mango and only sweeter and tangier.

The first thing I sign up for in Bali is a bike tour. It comes not only with two buffets and a trek around the gorgeous island, but an inclusive tasting at the Lawak coffee plantation.

Following a 30 mile bike ride we induldge in a home cooked meal!

It’s hot and I’m going to sweat profusely so I opt for the cheap shades. They’re ideal for the day, protects with style, and if they break, who cares?

On a stop in the rice fields I got the chance to work with the locals.

Afterwards I’m exhausted, so I spring for an in house hour long massage. Dinner is free, cooked by the chef using the freshest ingredients from Bali’s local fields. Sensational.

Our chef prepares a home made feast cooked in coconut oil.

The next few days I don’t do much of anything, just relax. Island living.

I take a two hours daily class for $12 at Yoga Barn, Bali’s premier studio; I visit a monkey forest, where I feed bananas to baboons for free and I do some shopping.

Ubud's Yoga Barn is one of the most beautiful in the world, offering an indoor/outdoor experience.

Feeding a mom and her baby in Ubud's Monkey Forest

The hand carved wood Buddah statues are perfect for a house center piece. Enjoying a fun game of bargaining, I pick up three plus some unique style clothes. $100.

Found all over Bali, these hand crafted Buddah's can be had for unbelievable prices.

Bali, Indonesia Wood Carvings from Alec Torelli on Vimeo.

My week in paradise comes to a bitter sweet end. I tally my expenses:

Room: $40 x 6 = $240
Bike Tour: $40
Driver: $40
Food: $150
Statues: $100
Clothes: $100
Yoga: $36

Total: $706

When I return to Macau, I stop by Louis Vuitton. “Matthew, I don’t normally do this, but I’d like to return these.” When he asks why, I explain to him my shame at spending the same amount for a week in Bali as on a ludicrous purchase. He sympathizes… but “Unfortunately sir, we can’t accept returns after 7 days.” I’m reluctant, happy and sad, in the same time.

At dinner that night, I head to Il Teatro, the Italian restaurant at the Wynn Hotel. A few drinks and three hours later, I leave empty handed. It was’t until the following morning that I realize I left my glasses at the table! “I’m sorry sir,” the Lost and Found tells me, “we can’t locate them.” $650 has never stung so much.

It’s impossible to compare doing something vs. having something. While being bombarded with media and advertisements, we are taught that things will bring us meaning and happiness. We are wrong. The media’s message stems from embedding this falsity deep within to generate revenue at our expense.
Imagine losing your camera or cell phone. The item is replaceable, the content is not. We can acquire, use, break and lose things, but they will never last.

Both my sunglasses and Bali are over.

One is gone forever. The other will last a lifetime. ♠

I had been extremely fortunate to spend Chinese New Year in Macau, an island off the coast of Hong Kong. The country is arguably the most far removed from western culture. Walking through the city, I met no Americans and struggled to find people who spoke English. What began as frustration turned to appreciation when I was humbly reminded of the purpose of traveling. It’s beauty lies not in finding what we already know, but discovering that which we yet to learn.

I began to practice Mandarin and explore some of the unique cuisine that China has to offer: dim sum, pork buns, jerkies, pastries, milk teas, stylized meats and specialty desserts. I learned a bit of history as well. Red and gold are symbolic colors of prosperity and good fortune and tea pots hang upside down to “rain money on guests.”

During the New Year’s festivities red envelopes were given out to children as gifts containing candy and money, and the dragon (this year’s symbol) means children born will show signs of fire, vigor, success and have strong personalities.

Here are some of the highlights:

Nights in Macau: 14
Hours of Poker Played: 90
Similar City: Las Vegas
Best Meal: Golden Flower, Wynn Hotel
Best Buffet: Mandarin Oriental Breakfast
Best Thing: Unveiling a new way of life
Worst Thing: Sitting between two chain smokers at the poker table
What’s Cheap: Taxi’s. A 20 minute ride costs 50 HKD or ~ $6.50 USD
What’s Expensive: Fruit. A Japanese apple costs $158 HKD (~$20 USD) and a bag of strawberries costs $10 USD.
Interesting Facts:
1) The casinos only accept HKD because of gaming regulations, but Macau has its own national currency. $1 HKD = $0.97 Local.
2) Macau’s gaming revenue is four times higher than Las Vegas.
3) The One Central Mall is home to the highest grossing Louis Vuitton in the world. It’s a 50 meter walk from the Wynn poker room.
4) At the time of construction, the Venetian in Taipa was the world’s largest building and is still the world’s largest casino, seven times larger than the one in Las Vegas.
5) Macau has 550,000 people. Last year, their gaming revenue was 60 billion. Hong Kong has 7 million people. Last year, their GDP was 40 billion.
Memorable Moment: Watching the New Year’s firework show from my window. It lasted five days. ♠

Water Show at Wynn, Macau from Alec Torelli on Vimeo.

“So… what do you do?” he asks. I sense the implication. The awaited answer, how one derives income, is shallow, insolent. I’d like to think he is trying to learn something about me. If so, I can choose from a variety of interests: Traveling, music, eating, writing, exercise, reading, poker, photography, cooking. Why reduce ourselves to one dimension?

Defining starts with us. In the same way we are taught to dress for the job we want, we should introduce ourselves for the people we strive to be. Our passions go beyond 9:00 am – 5:00 pm. The stock trader who dances salsa, the barista who writes poetry, the bus driver who enjoys stand up comedy, they are all more than their jobs.

I don’t always feel like being “Alec the poker player.” I want more. I am more. To get to know someone don’t ask what they do, ask what they dream of doing. To be someone, don’t worry about who you are, worry about who you want to become. ♠

Express Yourself: Leave A Comment

When someone asks “what you do,” what activity best describes you?

“How’d you end up?” Andrew asks after a marathon poker session. I had played 24 hours straight and booked a solid win. “Any interesting hands,” he continues. We work through some possible mistakes. Common words and phrases we use are “misplay, next time, I prefer and I rather.” A recent study found that of the 24 most common words to describe emotion, only 6 of them are positive. We leave an hour later. I recall the number encouraging hands we discussed. Zero.

Imagine watching a movie with equally diverse yet potent images. For example, the disparity in “Hostel” between explicit sex and graphic violence. Although equally detailed, the images of violence account for the overwhelming majority of our recollection. What’s more, scores of gossip magazines such as People, US Weekly and Star thrive by exploiting the faults of others instead of praising their achievements.

In other facets of life the same philosophy is applied. A studious child gets straight A’s for years and suddenly get a C-. The parent is concerned. The employee diligently shows up to work for months and decides to take a single day off. The boss gets mad. The loving partner is faithful for 16 years and cheats once. The relationship ends.

We dwell on the bad and overlook the good. Michael Jordan said: “I never looked at the consequences of missing a big shot…when you think about the consequences you always think of a negative result.” By channeling our energy into that which we excel, we will lead healthier, fuller and happier lives. If it worked for Jordan, maybe it’s worth a try. ♠

Good communication is both poignant and concise. This timeless speech by Robert F. Kennedy sums up our national problem: a misguided focus. 40 years later, his words are more true than ever before. ♠

Not many things are more painful than enduring a baseball game. The activity is glacial process, like waiting for my banzai tree to grow. Fastball, slider or change up, what is the difference? Regardless, the score is only going to change three times during the entire game. The only thing I like about it is I can take a nap while watching a game and not worry about missing anything.

In the same way that Billy Beane “hates losing more than he loves winning,” I like Bennett Miller’s Moneyball more than I dislike baseball. In playing the role of Billy Beane, Brad Pitt was particularly noteworthy. “If you don’t know Billy, you get a good idea of what drives him and who he is,” says Craig Breslow, a relief pitcher for the Oakland Athletics. “From the mannerisms and conversations to temper and intonations, it was all there.”

Billy Beane possessed no shortage of eccentricities. In the opening scene, Beane sits alone in the Oakland Athletics stadium while the team is on the road. As he listens to the game on a hand held radio, veins protrude from his right hand while he obsessively flips the dial back and forth. “On” and “off.” Beane, whose failed attempt as a baseball player explains his inability to accept losing, never allows himself a moment of satisfaction. “I don’t watch games,” he mocks, surprised the thought would cross his partner’s mind.

When Beane is not obsessing over exercise, he is negotiating trades, recruiting players, throwing chairs and, as Derik Barton of the Oakland Athletics admits, “eating a lot.” Beane has a daughter, although his consumption with baseball leaves little time for her. Similar to the relationship between Becca and Hank Moody in Californication, the father often buys her a guitar instead of watching her play it.

Jonah Hill plays the role of Peter Brand, (based on the real life Paul DePodesta), in his first big drama. Despite having a background in comedic improv, his performance came with the ease of Federer’s cross-court backhand. “They both contain real people,” he says in an interview comparing the differences in thematic style. “The process is similar, it just depends on what story you’re telling.” Admittedly, I didn’t get Hill enough credit, but one does not imagine Kanye West becoming a sensational country music star.

The “moneyball” concept, formally known as sabermetrics, uses statistics to determine the value of a particular player. Bill James, who coined the term in 1994, describes sabermetrics as “the search for objective knowledge about baseball.” It attempts to answer not only who hit the most home runs but more specific questions such as: which player(s) contribute the most to the offense? As Brand confesses to Beane, “your goal shouldn’t be to buy players, your goal should be to buy wins.”

The Athletics’s board of advisors, comprised of a group of borderline seniles, are not exactly what you call objective. “I like Perez,” one particular advisor remarks. “But he doesn’t have a girlfriend,” argues another. “No girlfriend means no confidence.” When Beane questions their prehistoric thought, they dismiss his mathematical approach as nonsensical. As Breslow said: “baseball is very much an old timers game and this is a radical change.” For Howe and the board, they make their decisions based on emotion and they value those decisions based on the results. It is tantamount to the poker fish who says, “I feel lucky this hand,” in defense of drawing to a gut shot, and “it was a good play” because he got there.

The movie sheds light on an even more absurd notion: how a billion dollar industry could show disdain for the assistance of mathematics? Moneyball, like 21, is a notable story about inefficiency. As an economics graduate from Yale, Peter Brand’s understanding of economics was the catalyst to change an entire industry. Beane’s trade negotiation with Cleveland are rejected, mainly because of Brand’s advice. When he interrogates Peter about his identity, expecting him to reveal a secret, Brand looks confused and says, “I’m just Peter Brand.” Perhaps the reason for casting Jonah Hill to portray an affable Peter Brand was merely to make him appear trivial.

When the movie ended, I held the exit for an elderly couple. While the man pushed his wife through the door, she remarked: “it was good honey.” He shook his head solemnly: “if only that baloney were true.” Art and the board never did come to terms with the fact that the game had changed. As the Red Sox manager expressed to Beane: “Whenever you try to flip the switch on the people holding the reigns, they go insane. It’s threatening the way they do things.” “We are card counters at the Blackjack table – Beane tells the board – and we’re going to turn the odds against the house.” What Beane and Brand set out to prove, is that sometimes, even the house can lose.

In an interview with Craig Breslow, we discussed some of the inefficiencies in baseball. Hadn’t I known better, I could have been listening to a professional poker player. Misconceptions about poker and baseball were easily translatable, particularly that there is a huge difference between the way people think things are done, and the way they actually are. Breslow put it best: “Any sport like baseball that one can attempt to quantify, should be making a move towards a strategy that completely removes intuition or hunch and statistically put yourself in a favorable position to win.”

The idea behind sabermetrics does not only pertain to baseball, but to every facet of our society. Companies like Ticketmaster, a ticket sales provider with millions in annual revenue, exists only because of the inefficiency in the primary market. A Taylor Swift ticket retails at $89.00. Thirty seconds later, when the show sells out, tickets are immediately purchased on Ebay for $400, a mark up of 500%. Just like the fans who want to see home runs in baseball and fights in hockey, the agents focus on immediate sell outs and hype instead of maximizing returns. To make a call from California to Italy costs $1.69 per minute with Verizon. Skype, which recently sold for $8,500,000,000 to Microsoft, made their fortune by cutting this rate down to 2 cents per minute, a decrease of 8,450%.

Sabermetrics changed my view of baseball. An experience that once seemed painful became a challenge to find flaws in a teams strategy. As Breslow stated: “teams are only running at 50-70% of their maximum potential.”

Like baseball, poker was once an inefficient game. However, with the implementation of statistical programs such as holdem manager and pokerstove, it has become saturated with information. Fortunately for us, billions of dollars are bleeding away by a society that is what Annie Duke refers to as, “scared of math.” Our job is to find it. ♠

November 2010

I spring out of bed full of energy. I grab a beanie, tie my Nike’s and hit the streets. Outside the morning air chills my face. As my feet pound the pavement I see the wind of my exhale. A mist begins to fall. It mixes with the sweat on my face and I cannot tell which is more pervasive. Further along the bay, atop the hill stands the most beautiful red bridge the world has ever known. When I reach the edge, a ray of sunshine penetrates the haze and illuminates the city. I experience the most pleasurable feeling. I feel alive.

The night before, I arrive in San Francisco at 5:00 pm. I check into my friend’s apartment; a modern 2 bedroom loft on the third floor of the Marina District. Before I can unpack, four friends join us and we hit the town. Union Square is packed with people to watch the annual lighting of the Christmas tree. We secure seats on top of a planter on the northwest corner of the park. Couples cuddle close, enjoying each other’s body heat. The smells and sounds of Christmas fill the night with love.

Following the festivities, we grab a bite at an over priced Italian restaurant. After dinner we drift. With each new venue, a larger group forms as we take prisoners from one place to the next. By the end of the night our group turns to a blob too large to move. As quickly as we gathered, we dissipate. Friends are made and memories are created but neither is forgotten.

January 2012

I arrive at 6:00 pm on New Years Day and spend 15 minutes looking for a place to park. When I find my motel, cheap but conveniently located two blocks from Union Square, I inquire about parking. “We have a $20 valet service,” they inform me. Thinking it was a bit pricey, I leave. I dodge the lunatics running through the streets and weave my way into a garage with a sign that reads: Self Parking. Brilliant. I circle up to the 8th floor and park in the first vacant spot I see.

As I walk the streets I am overcome by the amount of garbage and litter on the streets. The unfortunate homeless seem to outnumber tourists. They wheel around shopping carts or trashcans stuffed with salvaged goods. Most have one outfit: a ragged black cloth-like garment. Several are drugged beyond repair. My head turns as they mumble. It takes me a while to realize they aren’t speaking to anyone. Others make me stop and wonder: what happened? They seem so out of place, like it could be me. I am filled with empathy, despair and a hint of fear.

I allocate $5.00 in $1.00 increments for donations. I begin on the southwest corner of Union Square. By the time I cross the park the money gone. The same Christmas tree decorates the courtyard; only this time the air smells of decay. I continue north on Powell and make a left on Sutter. I stop at the first suitable place, Sugar Café. It’s a modern lounge: stone countertops, a gas lit fireplace surrounded by comfortable chairs and mirrored walls shelved with alcohol. “Make me something hot and strong,” I tell the bartender. He nods.

I sip on a sweet concoction of Baileys, Kahalua, espresso, and Tuaca, a vanilla citrus liqueur topped with cocoa and carmel. The simmering heat burns my taste buds and the alcohol permeates my veins. “So what’s would you do if you had 48 hours here?” I ask. “Have you tried Fernet’s?” “No,” I reply. “Where’s that?” He smiles. “We’ll start there.”

He pulls out two shot glasses and throws them in the air, spinning like a performer juggling bowling pins and slams them on the granite. He grabs a bottle and pours two shots. “What are you doing?” I ask. “Fernet Branca. It’s the drink of choice around here.” “Oh Fernet!” I exclaim. “I thought it was a restaurant,” I laugh. He holds up his glass, touches it to mine, taps the tile and put it back. “Ahhhhhh.”

I finish another mixture. This time it’s steamed apple cider infused with coconut rum, whiskey and orange juice and spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg. When I can take no more he points me to Chinatown and Little Italy. I bid him farewell and stumble out of the bar.

I walk through an uneventful Chinatown. In a drunken mess, I stop for a coconut bun pastry. I take two bites and throw the rest away. I am tempted to add it to the mountains of rubbish. I resist. In Little Italy, I walk past cheap attempts to replicate authenticity, like a bad Elvis impersonator. I avoid making the same mistake I did a year ago and hail the first cab I see. I have no destination in mind, but any place is better than here. I tell the driver I’m hungry and he takes me to a Moroccan restaurant. I order the mixed couscous. It’s average.

I spend the next hour searching for my car. I pass my motel that I still haven’t checked into, Super 8 (a destination I spent hours seeking out in the effort of frugality). Outside it looks like an Occupy Wall Street movement of destitute. Frightened, I walk quickly toward the structure for my car. When I find it, I realize it is parked in the Hilton. I’m informed about the usurious rates for parking: $52 per night. “But I’ve only been here 5 hours,” I argue. “After four it’s the same price.”
“Maybe it’s a sign,” I think to myself. I inquire about room rates. My justification to stay is a stretch: I’ll feel better about paying $52 for parking when I’m at least staying at the hotel. Somehow, I feel like I cheated.

The following morning I open the curtains of my 23rd story hotel room to see a panoramic view of the city. Old weary buildings look like pieces in a Jenga game. Something about being atop of a city never loses its charm. I snap a photo. I proceed to the lobby and pay $5.71 for a vanilla latte at Starbucks; a small price for my safety. I sit in the lobby checking email while the security guards evicts unwanted guests.

I pack my bags, check out and make my way north. Before leaving I stop at the Golden Gate Bridge and think back to a year ago. Had the city changed drastically or is it my perception, a cumulation of recent experiences that alter my awareness? I resort to not knowing. I watch the sun glisten off the water. I gaze onward to the sailboats gliding effortlessly through the bay. My eyes profile the outline of Alcatraz. Standing across the bay, I cannot help but feel relief. Luckily I have escaped. ♠

Objective: Live in the moment
Priorities: Writing and Working
Poker Goal: Focus on cash games; Play less tournaments
Habit to Break: Biting my nails
Habit to instill: Budgeting
A Sight to See: Danali, Alaska
A Hike to Do: Mount Whitney
A Place to Eat: Sage in Aria Hotel, Las Vegas
A Person to Meet: Billy Joe Armstrong
An Experience to Have: Feel content doing nothing
Do More: Listening and Yoga
Do Less: Complaining
Be More: Patient
Be Less: Flaky
Spend More Time: Writing
Spend Less Time: On my computer
Random Wish: Make travel videos
Bucket List: Write a book
Word of the Year: Breathe

New Year’s Resolution: Not to make one ♠

Miles Traveled: 24,444
Countries Visited: 6 (US, Holland, Sweden, Italy, France, Switzerland)
Poker Tournament Cashing Record: 1 cash in 22 tournaments
Most Amount Weighed: 172 lbs
Least Amount Weighed: 151 lbs
Current Weight: 159 lbs
Proudest Accomplishment: Getting in the best physical shape of my life
Best Workout: Biking around Lake Lugano from Italy to Switzerland
Best Thing I Did: Move to Italy
Coolest Thing I Saw: Statue of David
Inspirational Moment: Watching the sunset at the top of Sillman Pass in Sequoia National Park
Hobbies: Writing, Italian, Cuisine, Travel, Reading
Best Meal: Montecristo Ristorante, Milano
Food of Choice: Sweet Potatoes
Drink of Choice: caffé shakerato (shaken iced coffee)
Alcohol of Choice: Scotch
Clothing Items Purchased: 0
Favorite City: Venezia, Italia
Books Read: 18
Favorite Read: Biography of Michelangelo: Bruno Mars, The Power of Now: Eckhart Tolle
TV Show: Homeland
Movie: Midnight In Paris
Song: Littlething, Jimmy Eat World
Artist: Taylor Swift
Role Model: Rafael Nadal
Estimated Hands of Poker Played: 250,000
Word of the Year: Meaning
Lamest Moment: Hearing people celebrate the beginning of 2012 while writing this blog
♠

If you were given a button that tells you exactly when you are going to die, would you push it?

My vote is yes. Even if the information is painful, I’d like to know what could be the single most valuable factor in altering my immediate future. To illustrate, let’s take the following scenarios:

1) The hopeful and most likely scenario: I die ~ 50 years from now. Daily life doesn’t change at all. Business as  usual.

2) Still very possible: I die ~ 25 years from now. Daily life remains the same, but future plans are altered. I consider not having kids or having them immediately. Vacations are taken more readily. Liquidate 401k. Why save for retirement?

3) I have ~ 10 years to live. Huge changes are made. Travel much more frequently. Put bucket list in full effect. Skew goals toward immediate changes and influence. Commit more time to writing. Hold off on the little ones.

4) I have ~ 1 year left. Drop everything except two or three activities: write a book, visit Paris, eat at Noma. Spend more time with closest loved ones. Abandon all long term plans.

The closer we get to our expected death, the more important the information becomes. The most effective strategy for action packed living and increased quality of life is when we assume we have little time to live. It seems the optimal course of action is to live our daily lives as if we only have five years left. (This still allows for long terms goals: kids, retirement, etc).

Remember the semester long homework assignment your teacher gave you? Almost everyone does two things:

1) Assumes the assignment must be hard because they give you so long to complete it
2) Doesn’t start working on it until the last week

When we deal with abstract amounts of time we become overwhelmed. As a result we under perform. We believe that it’s too hard to realize our goals. And like the long term project, we procrastinate until there is no time left.

Time is our most precious commodity. I would love to know when I’m going to run out. In fact, I would propose a trade: Give away a fraction of the time I have left in exchange for the information I want. That is, of course, assuming I still have time left to give. ♠