52.

In 2010 I developed a condition called Myasthenia Gravis.  It's something if you're keen on such topics you can read via the "Overcoming Adversity" section about.  I have no desire to reprint such things here, other than to say that when it comes to diseases I hit the jackpot of "rare incurable crap that most people will never even hear of."  

The disease is in remission now, and I'm glad for that, but one of the side effects has been a decrease in grip strength.  You see, Myasthenia Gravis attacks the muscles, making them alien agents to your body.  So instead of making them stronger through normal processes, your white blood cells view your musculature as enemies, making them a crime against your existence that must be wiped from the face of the earth.  One aspect of my myasthenia gravis journey was a thing where my eye muscles droop constantly and make them look as though they are continually tired.  Another aspect is me being able to grip anything with the strength I remotely used to.  

Recently, that's all changed.  I have picked up a deck of playing cards, and those have granted me the ability to grip something again in ways that I could not.  A good portion of it I owe to Daniel Madison of Ellusionist and his book "How to Cheat At Cards" that I keep studying.  Another aspect to it is the man known as "S.W. Erdnase" and his book "The Expert at the Card Table."  Both have given me a look into the world of the card cheat and con artist that I cannot repay them enough (or ever in Erdnase's case). Daniel Madison I need to credit in particular for some of the things he's done (which have inspired me) in the terms of what I have wrought before me, specifically with the cardistry (flourishes and other signifiers you're a badass) that he's taught.  (Spoiler Alert: I'm still learning how he catches cards on the back of his arm, throws them, and catches them with one remaining in his hand) and cheating at cards.  

I have spoken with others on this, and they tell me you may be interested in the decks I use.  Here's the thing--I have a few, and the ones that I use for "public" consumption are different from the ones I mess with in private.  This is because oils and sweat in your hand will kill a deck after about a week if you handle one as much as I do.  As a result, I have burned through many a Bicycle deck with an air-cushioned finish, and I don't want to sound like a snob, but the Ellusionist S.W.E. decks recently printed are my newest favorites.  They feel in a new state like the best of the Daniel Madison series, and they have a design on the back that is very similar to Erdnase's original printing of "The Expert at the Card Table" on either side of the cards.  Plus, I think Ellusionist makes better cards than Theory11 when it comes to durability, but that's just me being obtuse.  Finally, the fact that when I am in public I have a deck that says "The Expert At The Card Table" on both sides is just so dang cool I can't help but mention it.  

Those 52 little assistants have done so much for me in the past few months when it comes to rebuilding my body and brain.  You see, card manipulation requires the constant working of muscles in the hands--more specifically muscles you may not know you had.  As a result of the near-constant work when it comes to playing with cards, I am getting the grip strength I lost to that terrible disease back.  It's been a slow and frustrating process at times, but I think from what I've seen I've got some manipulative ability in these hands I've never had now.  

The name S.W.E. for the decks I use stems from a man named "S.W. Erdnase."  In 1902 he published a book called "The Expert at the Card Table," which is considered by many who study it to be the definitive book on how a gambler cheats at cards.  The Erdnase name though is a pen name, and no one can figure out who Erdnase was to this day.  The name "E.S. Andrews" is "S.W. Erdnase" spelled backwards, so some people think that was his name.  Others think it was a famous card cheat named Walter Irving Scott.  It's a legend on par with Jack the Ripper, except no one died with Erdnase around.  

Anyway, this post written at 4 AM on a Sunday is there to thank my 52 assistants, in whatever form they take.  I love keeping you around because study and practice with you makes me a far more interesting person (and one I hope delights my kids) than I am before we have an interaction.  I want to appreciate them for the things I've done in making sure I get a part of my life back, and I want to see them used or appreciated by my kids one day.  You've certainly done more to keep the peace and quiet in my home than playing Harmonica ever did.  

I hope others can benefit from my study of card manipulation and card magic.  It's been a fun ride, and one that's given me quite a few benefits (the biggest being a renewed ability to speak in public without fear).  The biggest key to doing so if you decide to go that route is to make sure you don't overtrain enough to where your muscles develop poor memory on how to do a given move.  The study of card magic and cardistry is fun, but working on it to an obsessive degree will cause you to suffer setbacks.

Here's a link to a charity that works with Myasthenia Gravis.  

Here's a link to Daniel Madison's website.  

Mushy Stuff to Follow. Nothing to See Here.

Yesterday was my daughter's second birthday.  We had a good time with it--she had pizza and cupcakes and managed to open what seemed like an endless slew of presents.  She's a toddler now, and she's prone to those legendary two year old tantrums every parent speaks of in feared tones.  But she's my girl, and I wouldn't trade her for anything in the world.  

Being a dad is one of the most important jobs I've ever had.  It means that you check your ego at the door and your life changes--always for the better if you look at it like you're supposed to.  It means that you're there when they're happy, there when they hurt, and there when they need you for advice on how to proceed through an honest life.  It means that you take on a whole new world of learning, study, and comprehension about human nature--if you do it like you're supposed to.  And for all these gifts, as hard earned as they've been, I'll always be grateful.  

I've learned in the past two years how to change a diaper with the speed of a NASCAR pit crew.  I've learned the differences between developmentally appropriate toys.  I've managed to grasp the concept of "big feelings we can't articulate" vs. outright tantrums.  And I've even managed to learn a tiny bit of sign language.  None of this would come about if it weren't for Talia, and I am eternally grateful her presence in my life has taught me such things.  

Talia has taught me patience and compassion.  Patience with myself when I'm not completely immaculate during the work week, and patience for when my family doesn't make it out the door on time.  Compassion for the families with the screaming kids in a restaurant (we've been there.  several times).  The list could continue--but the empathy of those two lessons alone makes the entire Father experience worth it. 

Talia has taught me how to have fun in ways that I didn't think would be possible.  I'm a guy who normally lives in his head, full of reading, learning, writing, and constant play with playing cards.  She's shown me that the mere possession of a doll who can teach her the ABC's and the chance to play in a bunch of streams of water can be incredible ways to spend your time.  When you can look at the world through the eyes of a two year old, things seem like a far more magical place than the doldrum of our everyday existence.  

Talia has taught me how to curb my tongue.  There's been some things I've wanted to say to people on certain days that would make a sailor blush, but then I remember that if I don't have two little ears listening at that time I may in the near future, and the last thing I want to be is one of those parents who has their small child saying four letter words before their teens.  As an added side effect of this process I am also far more polite to everyone than I have been in the past.  

One more note on the lessons I've learned as a Father--Talia has stopped me from being angry about a lot of pointless crap.  I could be just as offended as the next person on the Internet Outrage Machine, but it's really, really hard to do that when you spend five minutes barking and mooing on all fours at a small child just for the privilege of hearing them giggle.  

I could go on and on about what she's taught me, but I say this in sincerity--it's been a hard two years.  A hard two years of self-reflection, beating myself up for not doing a better job as a Dad, checking my ego at the door, and an abandonment of selfishness.  Every morning I wake up, though, I hear "Hi Daddy!  Up, Please!" Eat More?" and I remember just why it's so good to be alive right now.  I feed her breakfast every morning I can and read to her every night I can because it's two of the best parts of my day.  This is why I left firm life and became a solo again--moments such as these.  

One day my daughter will read this in full. It will probably be at a time when she thinks Dad isn't cool anymore, when she says to her friends that her parents are "gross," or when she's had a fight with me because I wouldn't let her go out one evening with a boy.  When that happens, I want her to read this and know one thing: Talia, I love you with all my heart and always want what's best for you, even if it doesn't seem like it right now.  I have since you were born-when you melted my cold, hard heart--and will continue to do so until I leave this world.