Charles Socci Dot Com

My wife Kristin and I recently enjoyed watching the movie, 21. In the movie, loosely based on a true story, a professor recruits his brightest math students into a card counting scheme. They win millions of dollars playing blackjack.

In one scene, the professor poses the following question to his class - the classic “Monty Hall” question: There are three doors. Behind one door is a new car. Behind the other two, goats.

He asks the bright young student (whom he is about to recruit into the blackjack group) to pick a door. The student picks door number one.

The professor then opens door number three to reveal a goat. At this point, he gives the student a choice: to stay with his original choice, or to switch to door number two.

The student chooses to switch to door number two.

The professor then poses the question of why. Many people would stay with their first choice, but why?

The  young student then explains that by switching, he has a 66% probability of choosing the car.

I couldn’t figure this out. It seemed to me that it would be a 50% chance… I mean now he has to make a choice and either it is the goat or the car…

Here is the solution - it is really quite simple, but not immediately obvious.

1. When he makes his first choice he has ONE chance in THREE of making the correct choice (although it isn’t immediately revealed to him).

2. After Monty opens the first goat door (we know Monty knows where the car is) we are left with a choice of two doors.

3. The correct choice now depends on whether we were right, or wrong with our first choice. If we were RIGHT on our first choice, switching doors will LOSE. If we were WRONG on our first choice, switching doors will WIN. Since we only had one chance in three of being RIGHT the first time, and TWO chances of being wrong, the odds are that we are WRONG and therefore switching gives us a TWO in THREE chance of being correct if we SWITCH.

In 1996 I worked as a musician aboard a cruise ship. One of our exotic ports of call was Bombay, India.

We stayed in Bombay for a few days, which gave us time to get of the ship and get around. Usually, we would find a local taxi or guide who would escort us around to see all the sights.

My friend went out on the first day and made the aquaintence of a local driver who called himself Billy. Billy took us off one morning to show us around. We weren’t really interested in the typical sightseeing so much - so Billy gave us the alternate tour.

The most memorable stop on our tour was a crematory and grave yard. We walked in not knowing where we were being led - and the first thing I noticed was a feeling of great stillness. I don’t know how else to describe the feeling except as if time stopped for a bit. There were piles of firewood, a large scale, and large metal things that looked like outstretched chaise-lounges many feet up off the ground. After being asked to leave a small donation, we were told the extra large chaise-lounges held dead bodies for cremation, and the scales were to weigh the body to determine how much firewood was required to burn it. There were birds I recognized to be some kind of vulture or buzzard perched on the walls of the open air facility.

We spent a while taking all of this in until Billy motioned we should follow him. We walked out of the crematory area through an opening into a very lush and old looking cemetary. Billy explained this was where Muslim people were buried becuase their religion does not allow cremation.

Billy took a drink from a bucket of water set on a table nearby, and looked at us with a smirk, inquiring if we’d like some too. He knew we wouldn’t drink out of that bucket, so it was all a big joke for him and we laughed.

Next we went around a corner and sat down on a bench where the caretaker’s shed must have been. Several very polite Indian gentlemen came out and sat down with us. One of them pulled out a chillum, which is a cone shaped pipe used to smoke hashish. Another produced a strip of gauze. Billy borrowed a cigarette from my friend and took it apart, cupping the tobaco in his hand. He then broke off a chunk of hashish from a much larger piece, and using his hands as a blender mixed it all together with the tobacco. This went into the pipe, the gauze was placed over the other end and each person had a drag, each moving the gauze down a few inches before they passed it on. The effect was rather instantaneous and quite profound.

So there we were, sitting with a bunch of Indian guys, in Bombay, at a crematorium, in the graveyard, smoking hash. There wasn’t anything negative about it. It was a cultural experience to be quite honest. These guys definitely had a different outlook on life, death, work, and most everything else we thought we knew so much about.

After parting company with our new friends, we went to an Indian restaurant. In India. Where I had Indian food for the very first time. Stoned.

I’ve been sober for over five years now, motivated by a variety of reasons. But let me tell you… smoking never got any better than that.

Ok, I’m pissed.

First, let me get this out of the way - I’m pro green. I recycle. I believe in conserving energy and I fully understand the need to find alternative sources and eliminate the use of fossil fuels.

That said, let me ask a question - why are gas prices so high?

This might come as a surprise, but I read there is enough oil in the United States  to MORE than meet it’s own needs for another FOUR HUNDRED YEARS??? (see url’s I listed below)

I’m not an economist and I don’t know much about oil as a commodity - but I know what supply and demand is. Do you know what else? Regardless of how complicated you want to make it, it is STILL all about supply and demand.

So, if the US has all this oil - why the high prices? There is NO shortage of oil and there never has been. We aren’t running out. We aren’t buying other countries oil because there isn’t enough to go around.

We import over half of our oil.

Why?

The reason the price goes so high is because OPEC, (Algeria, Angola, Ecuador, Indonesia, Iran, Iraq, Kuwait, Libya, Nigeria, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates and Venezuela - see any friends in there?) CUTS production whenever they want to raise the price. There is PLENTY of oil, they just decide to cut production. So you might say, they’ve got us by the throat.

The politics that go into this are hugely complicated - but how can you point the finger at OPEC when we already have enough oil right here?

Of course there is the issue of being able to refine all this oil into gasoline - but who has the power to change that?

This is some dirty, foul, rotten stuff going on… Legal thievery you might say.

The next step in trying to figure this out is to follow the money… Who stands to profit from remaining dependence on OPEC?

Why are we continuing to fund filthy rich foreign regimes, and then turning around and telling the world that they are terrorists?

Who’s expense is all of this? WE pay for it - hard working, modest people who can’t seem to get ahead. Meanwhile, the folks playing with the supply and price of this foreign oil (and some of our very own public officials right here at home) are gaining wealth beyond any of our wildest dreams. Try to imagine this wealth. You can’t.

This just doesn’t make any sense, does it?

Why aren’t more people pissed off? Why aren’t we doing anything about it? Are we stupid or just not paying attention?

http://wiki.answers.com/Q/Does_the_US_produce_enough_oil_for_all_of_its_citizens_to_use

http://auto.howstuffworks.com/gas-price1.htm

When I was a much younger man I spent several summers working at a summer theater on Long Island. It was an experience I now look back on nostalgically. It was a time in my life of few cares, camaraderie, and lots of music.

My friends and I from the pit orchestra used to hang out at a local pub in the evenings. One of our companions was a waitress - a local girl who we enjoyed hanging out with. She really liked to have a good time - but what I remember most about her are a few words she said to me.

They are words that hold great wisdom and have stuck with me these nearly twenty years. One might not expect such a gold nugget of wisdom from a humble waitress; but I continue to consider what she said to me - and as I progress through my life it takes on a deeper meaning.

As I poured out my heart to her one night; expressing a state of deep depression and sadness over something since forgotten; the words she uttered were, “you pay too much attention to your emotions”.

In other words - being in touch with your emotions - and letting your emotions define who you are, are very different things. It is okay to feel you are depressed and know you are depressed - but don’t BE it, and don’t let it pervade your perception of everything you are and all that is.

- The candidate I’d like to vote for won’t get endorsements because of her sex or skin color.

- My candidate supports the Constitution to the letter and seeks to refine and build on the vision of it’s authors.

- My candidate does not leverage a religious belief or affiliation in his/her campaign.

- My candidate respects a woman’s right to choose.

- My candidate has gone through something substantial in life the testifies affirmatively to their character.

- My candidate believes in the betterment of humanity first and foremost.

- My candidate does not believe in interfering in the government of other sovereign nations.

- My candidate believes that people are essentially good and that every person deserves equality and respect.

- My candidate believes that greed and arrogance have been the biggest sins at the route of this nation’s problems.

- My candidate does not exploit ignorance and fear in the name of doing something else or a personal/hidden agenda.

- My candidate believes that developing alternative sources of energy - thus helping the environment and easing our ongoing tensions in the Arab world. (as in we’d be able to stop messing with them… which would go a long way toward ‘ending terrorism’)

- My candidate believes that the tax burden should be shared fairly as a fixed percentage of personal income.

- My candidate is a staunch supporter of scientific research

- My candidate seeks to reform health care with a plan that serves an individuals medical needs regardless of their ability to pay for it directly.

- My candidate views crime as a social illness and supports a criminal justice system geared toward correcting the social origins of crime and rehabilitating the criminal.

- My candidate spends drug war dollars on education and treatment; not incarceration.

- My candidate welcomes immigration, but only where those immigrants are willing to work as hard to become contributing members of our Nation as their predecessors.

- My candidate believes in positive policies that provide a safety net and don’t let any group or individual, no matter how unpopular, fall through the cracks. No person should go without health care, shelter, or food. Not in this country.

Religion is dangerous topic. For me, I like the book of Genesis and I like science. We are all comprised of the same atoms that existed at the beginning of time. We are made of stardust. In this sense quite literally we are a chip off the same block. Whatever was before the Big Bang, whatever existed prior to that primordial soup – whatever made that – wherever the energy that makes light and mass and space and time – that is God to me. I’m part of that. You are part of that. Even Hitler was part of that. Mother Theresa was part of that. We all came from the same place. So forgiveness for me is simply remembering that. My personal suffering doesn’t mean anything. Coming to fully understand the fellowship I share with All the Is – does.

potential to spare
no catalyst to be found
where am i going

safe on the sidelines
much too afraid to jump in
comfort is a myth

lottery ticket
waiting for the phone to ring
salvation is late

your ride isn’t mine
why do i rent your journey
i’ve one of my own

who the hell are you
that i should try to fit in
true to your standard

I am thinking big
I’ve gathered some grand ideas
Bits of light shine through

Then back to the now
Shiftless, angry, and strung out
Blaming all but me

I’m just a coward
with a dream and a few skills
scared shitless to try

When can you say this —
that someone is a true friend?
—a day, or a year?

It doesn’t matter
One day or a whole lifetime
When the vibe is right

I hadn’t seen you -
seemed forever and a day.
Then I heard you were gone.

Just another day
in paradise you told me
A place you could be

Free from the sheriff
And those who might seek to harm
Boy against nature

From the day we met
No judgments made between us
You came as you were

Here in this moment
mistakes past, future unknown
See me as I am

You asked nothing that
I accept you as you are
we are both good souls

Dear friends like you
Who just see me as I am
Are precious and rare

– For my friend Ron “Ronda Riviera” Wright

As in a city,
lost, walking round in circles -
pacing the same streets.

My true place to be
lay on the next block over.
But I never knew.

I chose to wander
too proud to ask directions
most could have given.

Living in the now
is useless, if not mindful
of the guide inside. (who knows when to ask)

In my early years,
my course was never steady -
to and fro like wind.

Sudden adulthood -
Youth wasted, indecision -
The game now for keeps.

Mistakes everywhere,
bankruptcy ensued, all kinds.
I slashed and I burned.

Illness, poor choices.
The fruit? A cataclysm.
Near death, I lay grim.

Like some mythic man,
I refused to die prostrate.
My mission was clear.

It seems that wisdom
is a sliver of pale light -
Waxing and waning

Be still, be mindful.
The light becomes a beacon -
forget; it grows dim

Age, pain, survival,
can teach important lessons -
If one can let go.

Let go of yourself.
Live for the rest of the world
Find the empathy.

 Park Avenue South, Charles Socci 2003