Some of you may know that for about seven years, David has been a
member of a regular neighborhood poker game.  There's now nine of us
all told, and Suzanne asked that we say a little something about how
David spends the first Friday of every month.

We tackled this problem as we do almost every issue we face as a
group.    We argued.  We argued a lot.  We argued via email, with a
ferocity that sent every NSA operative from here to Dubai scrambling
for their codebooks, certain that our violent chatter indicated an
imminent terror attack.   We argued in person, at the bus stop, where
we stood in the cold February dawn, clustered on the corner, looking
like day workers fighting over the last spot on the truck.  We argued
about wearing stupid fake beards.  Guess who won that one.

The only thing that kept this argument from dragging on and on and on
and on, is that there was one person who was NOT involved in this
fight.  Our guest of honor was not invited to his own birthday
argument.  Which is too bad.  Because he loves it so.   For seven
years, we've been playing poker, and we still have the same arguments
that we had on the first day.  What's interesting about this is that
there are only three Jews at the table.  If there were 5 or 6, I
could understand it.  But we don't even have a minion.  Hell, we've
got a Presbyterian minister in the game, and HE argues (although
truth be told, he's not very good at it). Go figure.

Let me give you a simple example:  We start a game, and every player
is dealt one card, face up.  The player with the high card bets
first.  One player has an ace.  One player has a wild card.  Which
player has the higher card?  Does it matter?  Of course not.  Except
that on the first Friday of every month, at about 10:30, we're going
to argue about it.  I don't even know which side David usually
argues; all I know is that whatever anyone says, he takes the
opposite position.  Seven years. That's 84 times we've had the same
freakin' argument.  That's just one of about 6 items that come up
every single time we play.  Suzanne.  Oh my god. I can't even imagine
what it's like for you the other 30 days of the month.

  Apart from the pure, unadulterated joy of arguing for arguments
sake, are there other reasons David would spend one night every month
with 8 schmos like us?  There are side benefits.  Every now and
again, but not as often as you might think, he actually wins.   He
loves to point out all the stupid things you did in the last hand,
even (or especially) if you won and he lost.  He gets to drink beers
that that the rest of us buy that he would never purchase for
himself.  And there's the always alluring opportunity to go to
someone's house where there are clocks that actually work.

But David wouldn't be satisfied arguing with us just once a month.
So we've given him a much, much bigger sandbox to play in.  Some of
you, especially those of you in the game theory and/or computer
science departments, may have heard of this little NCAA basketball
pool we've developed.  Now, I could try and explain the intricate
inner workings of this, but the next sound you'd hear would be the
thud of your own head hitting the table in catatonic stupor.

Believe me when I tell you that there is NOTHING David would rather
do than argue about this pool.  The volume and complexity of the
correspondence is unbelievable; it makes The Economist look like
Sally, Dick and Jane. Trust me, you've read dissertations that were
shorter and more lucid than the literature he's produced on this
subject.   I swear to God, just last week when we rejected his latest
scheme to make the game even more mind-bendingly complex, he actually
wrote "this is a fight we will have for 100 years."  Sure.  Easy for
you.  In 100 years, you'll be 41, and we'll all be pushing 150.   If
that's what I've got to look forward to for the next hundred years,
honey, pass the Draino.  I'll take mine straight up.

On occasion, one of our wives will ask, "what do you talk about at
poker.?" It's pretty simple. We talk about poker.  We laugh at each
other, and ourselves.  David is an integral part of a really
interesting mix of men that get together on the first Friday of each
month.  His brain, his humor and his heart have helped make these
stupid games we play an important part of our lives.  That's
something that nobody would argue.

Unless you want to.  Happy birthday.