PINOCHLE PROTOCOL


As you have been following my Pinochle adventures for a while now, Dear Reader, you know that, as in other facets of my existence, my behavior has remained quite rigid.  In fact, I have set some rather fastidious rules for myself regarding conduct at the monthly card party.  The rules cover rituals enacted prior to arrival as well as comportment at the actual event. I have written them on an index card and added that to the contents of my Pinochle Purse, so as not to commit any infraction.  In no particular order, I exhibit them below for your perusal.

Study Ahead of Time.  For at least the week before, I commit to practicing counting meld at www.powerpinochle.com. I also have a tattered sheet of paper on which I took notes regarding meld bids, which I thoroughly review and memorize. I beg my friends to quiz me but usually this is not very successful, and I end up arriving at the venue feeling frustrated, anxious and unprepared.

Dress Up. I believe in respecting the tradition of the Pinochle Club and those who have been members for such a long time.  Clean clothes are a must, no rips or tears, no jeans or t-shirts. Good hygiene goes hand-in-hand with this standard: freshly brushed teeth, clean fingernails, no open sores (remember the icky blister in Pinochle Purse?), and good hair is desirable but not always achievable.

Sport the Pinochle Purse. This is really part of the previous rule.  It goes without saying that the purse is packed properly (see Pinochle Purse if you don't know what this means).

No Eating.  This is due to the many possible calamities that can befall me if I attempt to consume edible material.  The list includes, but is not limited to, food in my teeth, heartburn, sluggishness, flatulence, and bad breath. Several of these catastrophes defy other edicts. Not only is this a tenet for the affair itself, but it is a statute for the hours, and usually the entire day, leading up to the event.  The disadvantage to this precept is that it can bring on dizziness and disorientation, which can trigger misjudgment at the card table.  Faced with the disgraceful alternatives, I will risk the possibility of feeble-mindedness. This rule has been amended to include not accepting home-made Beer-itas graciously offered up by a hospitable host, and not attending local wine festivals prior to arrival.

Good Posture.  The meme is funny, but in all seriousness, this goes back to respecting my fellow Pinochle players and the tradition, and conveys my concentration on the game. Sitting ram-rod straight on a folding chair for four-plus hours explains why I can barely move for the next two days. It means no slouching - standing or sitting, no rounded shoulders, no hanging head, no Donald Duck butt, and no hanging on one hip.


Best Manners.  This also goes without saying.  Please and thank you are obvious, as is good grammar and no mumbling. Greet hosts by name, thank hosts before departure, learn the names of the other participants. A cheerful demeanor and smile are preferable, but sometimes difficult to muster if tension is high (please refer back to the first rule in the list).  An overly toothy smile, or one in which the lip is stuck to the teeth, is often a sign of anxiety. Keep conversation pleasant, brief and quiet, as others are mentally counting cards, and sizing up their opponents. Overly raucous behavior is not welcomed, nor is vulgar language.  Reader with an eye for detail and a mind like a steel trap, you will have read Moratorium and know how difficult this can be.  See the list of deal breaking conduct below.

Respect Differences.  Understanding the disparities between the manners of Bridge and the culture of Pinochle is key. In Bridge, cards are dispersed one at a time, and players do not pick them up until all are dealt.  In Pinochle, cards are distributed two and three at a time, and players snap them up as soon as possible.  To me, dealing two or three cards at once contradicts the act of shuffling.  I am determined to no longer remark on this fact, or lecture on how many standard riffle shuffles are necessary for optimal randomization of the cards (seven). Both topics seem to generate a more heated discussion than necessary for a genteel game between friends. Looking at someone else's hand in the game of Bridge is unthinkable, yet nobody seems to care at the Pinochle table.  In fact, everyone has the opportunity to see what cards everyone else has when they are splayed out for the meld. Just as it goes against my every grain to inspect the cards placed on the table for the meld, I automatically avert my gaze from the dealer's hands, as usually I am able to see which cards are being dealt to whom from my vantage point.

Anti-Confinement Clause. This is a rule that was initially not on the list, but was added out of necessity.  I have been trapped in at least one powder room and maybe more, and I am not the only one. This is not to say that I was trapped in there with someone, Naughty Reader, but that someone else was trapped in a different washroom.  A reminder will not prevent the entrapment.  It does, however, make one more aware of other escape routes, notice who is near the door on the outside in case one must hiss through the keyhole, and remind one that perhaps merely closing the door is adequate instead of risking the lock.

Deal Breaking Conduct. The following behaviors are beyond the pale. The expulsion of gases is out of the question, whether in the form of flatulence, hiccups or burps. Intentionally cheating in any way is strictly prohibited. Prattling loudly and incessantly is frowned upon by players desperate to remember what is trump, who played the last ace and if their partner is out of spades. Gloating at the end of the evening does not seem very sportsmanlike.

Have Fun. After all of these guidelines for propriety, try to have fun.  After all, it is one evening a month to fraternize with friends and neighbors and engage in a lively game of Pinochle.





MORATORIUM

I am the first to admit that I have a proclivity to perorate with profanity; to squawk and swear; to blaspheme unbiasedly. Generally this profanatory performance is brought on by a disagreeable development.  Examples of these intolerable incidents include getting the mower mired in the mud at the bottom of a steep slope; sustaining a surprise sideswiping scratch from a feisty feline; bearing a brutal bite from the aforementioned malicious mouser, or slopping the sweet sustenance of sentience, otherwise known as coffee, on one's sweater. The imprecations rarely implicate an individual, they are only howled in hopes to free the frustration that has formed.



I have my prized profanities with which I punctuate persistently. My favorite four-letter words are generally not really composed of quadruple characters.  Made up of stops, fricatives and affricates, they just feel fine flowing out of my mouth.

Several weeks ago, Girl11.67 had had enough.  "I don't want to come from a cabin that curses!", she cried.  Thus began the moratorium on maledictions.

I endeavored to educate myself on equivalent epithets.  I have experimented with the ensuing examples and I have provided context.

Fiddlesticks, I left my keys at home!
Zooterkins, that refrigerator smells!
Gadzooks, you frightened me!
Gadsbudlikins, that hurts!
Cheese and Rice, will someone tell me what's going on?
ARGH!  Son of a motherless goat!
Shut the front door!  That really happened?

I was really doing well, I had not uttered anything unpleasant in several weeks.  On the day in question, I was readying my Rock the Crock rations, trying to open a tin of tomatoes.  The can opener was cranky and after completing one circle around the cap, it still wouldn't open more than a crack. I tried tipping out the tomatoes through the tear, but this was not a triumphant technique.  Then, I had a terrific thought:  I would carefully crush the can, thus altering the aperture to an oval, allowing more to ooze out.  I squeezed with all my strength.  Suddenly, the Sicilian sauce spewed on to my sleeves;  liquid landed on the laptop; fruit was on my front. After being pent up for so long, the profanity poured out.
$%#@^&*<%#!#@^&*>?!