Power of Understanding and Acceptance

Power of Understanding and Acceptance

The other day I went to a party at the invitation of a new buddy. I felt out of place because my buddy Jay is a freaking multi-millionaire and all of his friends are well-off. Jay is 49 years old. He made his first million when he was 35 and retired when he was 45, selling two companies he founded. He is very childlike--- very much like me, I suppose--- unmarried, honest, argumentative, stubborn, and passionate. In short, he is not unlike me, except the unmarried part. That's probably why we understand each other and get along fine. I met Jay in Scottsdale, AZ in a poker room where I usually frequent during the weekends. Last month, in a Friday evening I was sitting next to a corpulent middle aged man at a poker table, who played almost every hand and lost quite heavily, but he didn't seem to mind. We talked. And we really did. We were both natural born talkers. Jay loved to talk about himself and how well-off he was. His voice was not soft. It carried. Other players at the table were annoyed at his incessant bragging about he just came to Scottsdale to visit his old buddies and he just played poker for fun at this small limits level and he has a home in the exclusive enclave of Spanish Trails in Las Vegas where his neighbors are Antonio Adamsi, Thomas Page, and David Nicholson, a very famous man in Las Vegas. Since he didn't dress stylishly and didn't have an air of a man accustomed to comfort and a lifestyle of leisure and pleasure, some players expressed skepticism and called him a bullshitter. I defended him and told the hostile parties that I believed that Jay was telling the truth and there was no reason to believe that Jay was lying just to impress us. Well, that pleased him tremendously. He then invited me to dinner where we got to know each other more. That was how our friendship started. Two weeks ago, he called me from Vegas and asked me if I would like to visit him for the weekend and meet his neighbors. I didn't have to drive. He would book the ticket for me and he would pick me up at the airport.

I naturally said yes to his invitation. After I clicked off my phone, I couldn't help but feeling pleased with myself for having made some improvement in relating to people. As I once disclosed, I was somewhat retarded socially and emotionally. For the last three years, I have made some real connections with several men who regard me as a friend. I never have problems making friends with women, not after Laura walked out on me.

Jay picked me up in a surprisingly beat up Honda Accord. I said nothing about the car as I settled into the seat. I began to wonder if the Rolex on his writst was not a counterfeit. Jay cheerfully made conversations about how my flight went and how glad he saw me and how excited he was about the upcoming party. We got on the Interstate I-15 and then exited at Charleston avenue and headed west. Soon I found myself in spacious, elegantly landscaped neighborhoood. He passed through a gate with a guard sitting in an air-conditioned booth. My skepticism began to fade. He pulled into the driveway of a two-story house tastefully landscaped. The garage door went up. In there sat a silver gray late model Lexus. Jay showed me the guest bedroom. The time was around 2 pm. He told me to make myself at home. The party would begin around 8. The caterer would come around 6. He had some errands that he had to do.

I naturally made a tour of the house. My guest room was upstairs, overlooking a golf course and a swimming pool. There were two other bedrooms upstairs and a study room with bookcases filled with books on business and travel and some fiction. On the wall there were photos of Jay with his parents and one with Harry Reid. The one with Harry Reid made me feel better while there was no photos of women made me nervous.

Downstairs I found the Master bedroom, a pool room, dining room, living room, a huge kitchen with wineracks and ultrachic refrigerator. So, this Jay seemed to be for real, I said to myself silently as I sat down in the bathtub upstairs, soaking myself and visualized the stress departing from me like a receding wave from the beach. I had a good look at myself in the mirror as I dried myself. I looked young for my age and I made a mental note to take better care of my body. I did some light Yoga stretching so I didn't have to perspire but at the same time I could get some kinks out of the system. I felt sufficiently serene. I jumped into bed with a book on Tantric Buddhism in my hand. I always read in bed. It relaxes me. It made me feel smart and intellectual! Soon, I passed out. There was a knock on the door. Jay said guest were arriving and he would like me to meet them.

I met Thomas Page who had some kind of problems with the IRS and had to sell his house which was on the street west of Jay's. Jay told me that the house was huge and a steal. Page bought for 14 million and now had to dump it for a quarter of his purchasing price. Page asked me jokingly if I wanted to buy it. I said I was a pauper but a friend of mine out East might be interested. Page was subdued and not hyperkinetic at all. Adamsi was very friendly and polite and not stuck up despite his celebrity status. Nicholson was reserved. Soon there were four former business associates who arrived and Jay introduced them to me. We ate lamb chops and lobsters and drank wine and beer while sitting around the pool. By this time, the heat largely dissipated. Also two huge fans provided enough aerial heat dissipation from our bodies. Nobody went for a swim in the pool which was big enough for doing laps.

We retired to the pool room where there was a billiard table and a round table with soft cushion chairs. We played poker. To my surprise, Jay with a big grin on his face, pulled me aside and whispered to me that that he would advance me $15,000. Any money I made, I would keep. If I lose all the $15,000, that would be OK. Everybody put $15,000 on the table and started playing $5/$10 no limit hold 'em. I was nervous and played the tightest game of my life. I kept folding hand after hand until I found the cards really strong to play with. When the game ended around 1 in the morning, I made $2,600 profit and felt very pleased and relieved. Jay lost $8,000 of his original stake. I stayed until Sunday evening. During that time, Jay and I hit the poker tables at Bellagio. I, of course, played much smaller limits this time and managed to make an additional $1,300. Jay surprisingly got lucky and made $6,000.

As Jay said goodbye to me at the passenger drop-off area, he said he had a good time and if I ever get to Vegas again, I could stay in his house. He said he would be in Scottsdale in March and look forward to seeing me at the poker table. His parting words were "By the way, tell the regulars there that you met Page, Adamsi, and Nicholson."

I shook his hand and walked through the door towards the terminal, feeling out of place and out of joint and out of time, but at the same time I felt the full force of the power of understanding and acceptance and grace.