June 2006 Archives

I want to buy a connector that mates with this one. Here are all the clues.

This is the back of a 2007 Honda Fit OEM audio unit.
The connector has 20 pins.
Note that the two rows of pins are offset.
It is *not* the 14-pin CD-changer/MusicLink connector, which in this picture is the white connector next to it.
I have reason to believe that the Honda Civic also uses this connector.

Other keywords for search-engine whoring: Honda Jazz, aux jack, auxiliary jack.

I've been using Password Safe for years. It's a little Windows application I keep on my USB drive that contains all my passwords encrypted with a very long Diceware-generated password.

There's one usability problem with Password Safe that's plagued me over the years. I keep backups of the password file on nearly every computer I use, and occasionally I need to get a password but I don't have my USB drive handy. So I open the backup on the local machine, get the password I need, and get on with my life.

The problem is that Password Safe remembers the location of the last file you opened, and tries to open it automatically for you next time. So the next time I add or edit a new password on that machine, I might not notice that I'm opening the backup file rather than the original on my USB drive. If that happens, I edit the backup file, not the original. Then next time I back up the original onto that machine, my edits are gone. Since the edits always consist of unguessable passwords, I end up locked out of a site, possibly forever.

Here's a patch to version 1.92c that fixes this problem by not remembering backup file locations:

diff -E -w -r pwsafe-1.9.2c-src/DboxMain.cpp pwsafe-1.9.2c-mt-src/DboxMain.cpp
845a846
> if (0 != m_currfile.Right(4).Compare(".bak")) {
854a856
> }

I also edited PasswordSafe.rc to change all instances of 1.92c to 1.92c-mt in order to distinguish the modified build. I would provide a compiled binary, but I'm sure you're too smart to store your passwords in a random program downloaded off a shady poker player's website, so you get to build it yourself.

By the way, Password Safe is up to version 3. Unfortunately, it's not backward-compatible with my old files, so I don't use it. When I get around to it, I'll submit a patch to the developers for v3.

... is back! I dare you to watch Jurassic Bark without crying.

Warning: whatever you call a lower form of blog post than a bad-beat blog post, that's what this post is. These weren't even bad beats; they're just death hands. But there's an attempt at a lesson at the end if you feel like slogging through the crap.

There's an ESPN episode of one of the 2005 WSOP final tables (not the main event) where Morgan Machina began as the chipleader. Over and over, Morgan faces the short stacks and ends up on the wrong side of AK vs. pockets. His big chip lead dwindles. Eventually, when he's the short stack, he goes all-in, and as he stands up and looks down at the board, he pleads to nobody in particular, "come on... it's my turn."

I didn't feel much empathy for Morgan when I first saw the show, but today I do. This was a bad weekend, poker-wise, and it can be summed up by involvement in races against bad calls where my turn never came up.

First, the PokerStars World Blogger Championship of Online Poker (WBCOOP). After the first break I'm doing OK with close to 6,000 chips (about twice the average stack) when I find myself with 88 on a rag flop against one opponent, a pushmonkey. And what do you know, pushmonkey pushes. I think he has two overcards, and I have him covered, so I know (a) I'm a 75% favorite, and (b) if I knock him out, I will stop being annoyed by his constant, skill-free pushing on the flop. So I call, and his KJo catches a K on the turn. Once I'm crippled, a few hands later my AT pairs an ace on the flop. Of course, the same pushmonkey pushes again, and I call only to see him complete his ridiculous flush with his any-two-s0000ted hole cards. But as Wes said, better to go out 1314th and earn nothing than to go out 200-something and earn nothing. At least I got to spend more time with the kids on Fathers Day.

Second: Fire up a PokerStars SNG. Third hand: 88. Flop a set. All-in against JJ, who's ready to pack things up and go home until he makes a flush on the river. Then I spend the next 45 minutes working my 170 in chips up to 1,180, and lose with 33 on another raggedy flop when a big stack (who of course called my 4x BB preflop raise with J8o, and then calls my all-in) catches an eight.

Third: maybe it's PokerStars out to get me. So move to Full Tilt and cash in the satellite token I won a few weeks ago on the $8,000 guarantee (since obviously the best thing after a losing streak is to dive right in again and keep playing in the very same mindset that got you started on the losing streak). For the next 52 hands I am dealt nothing better than A8 offsuit; I see exactly one flop... in the big blind with 32 offsuit against 6 limpers. Finally, on the 53rd hand, I get 99. I have 580 chips -- not one of the lost 920 put into the pot voluntarily -- and I push preflop because gosh, it would be nice to take those blinds and chip up to something like 700. Does it matter that my SF% is 1.9% up to this point? Does it matter that I opened under the gun? Does my raise get any f-ing respect at this table? Nope, small blind calls with ace-crap, and you know what happened on the river.

Fourth: Back to PokerStars for one last 2-table SNG before bed. Doing fairly well here with a middle stack two spots away from the bubble (6 players left and 4 pay). It's folded around to me in the small blind with 44. Big blind has me *barely* covered by about 200 chips. He doesn't know the first thing about me because I was just moved to the final table about 5 hands earlier. So I push. He quickly calls with that legendary monster starting hand, A3o. And here's where I start to feel like Morgan: come on, dealer, it's my turn to win a god damned race ONCE tonight. But you know how it is, the PokerStars server can't hear me because it's way up in Canada, and the ace on the flop sends me to bed.

Disclaimers: I did cash a couple times in some other SNGs, and as is always the case I don't seem to remember the races I won. Like I said at the start, this is a crappy whining I-lost-and-I'm-annoyed blog post.

So I was torturing my wife with each of these got-all-my-money-in-with-the-best-hand-but-that-fool-called-and-sucked-out-on-me stories. She suggested I move up in buyins to a point where people don't make stupid calls with A3o for over 90% of their stack. Those of you who read the 2+2 forums know the answer to this argument. If you suck at lower buyins, you're going to suck more at higher buyins, and no, you're not that special kind of player who can beat only players above a certain caliber.

Face it, Mike: you put yourself into vulnerable situations with easily defeatable hands. And to cite Wes again, looking at the actual matchup of hands is results-oriented thinking. Unless you're a brilliant Negreanu-level hand reader, at best your read on an opponent is going to be a fuzzy range of hands. Just as in the Birthday Paradox, all the hands that beat you within that range add up to a lot more than you expect. According to PokerStove, A3o vs. 44 is a 70% underdog. But if I knew he's the kind of dumbass who would call with A3o, then his actual range is probably 22+, A2s+, A2o+. And that range vs. 44 is actually favored 51% to 49%. Granted, he had no idea what I had; there was a chance I was bluffing. The moment he saw my 44 he probably regretted his decision. But I let him make the mistake by risking everything as an underdog to steal one big blind.

I promised a lesson at the end of all this. The most succinct summary would be just to read what Wes wrote on the subject. In my own words: pockets are just one pair. You'll lose often, much more than you expect, with just one pair. Don't go broke with one pair. If you identify another player as a dumbass, good for you -- but act on that conclusion by not getting into a situation where he can luck into hurting you. And then maybe you won't end up writing a blog post like this where you whine about losing a few coinflips in a row.

Name other good movies (by "good" I mean "not Freaky Friday") that fit the "What happens when something weird happens to your brain?" theme.

• Memento
• Being John Malkovich
• Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

After losing a few too many late-stage tournaments with AA, whether to KK making a set on the flop, or to my opponent's pair on the flop making two pair on the turn, or to insane miracle flushes on the river, I have to say I'm warming up to this starting hand once again after the following:

PokerStars No-Limit Hold'em, $0.10 BB (9 handed)

UTG+1 ($10.15)
MP1 ($4.25)
Sowbug ($9.65)
MP3 ($8.50)
CO ($10.10)
Button ($3.85)
SB ($8.65)
BB ($3.35)
UTG ($23.60)

Preflop: Sowbug is MP2 with Ah, Ad.    
1 fold, UTG+1 raises to $0.30, 1 fold, Sowbug raises to $0.60,
5 folds, UTG+1 calls $0.30.

Flop: ($1.35) Jh, As, Qd (2 players)
UTG+1 checks, Sowbug checks.

Turn: ($1.35) Qs (2 players)
UTG+1 bets $0.75, Sowbug calls $0.75.

River: ($2.85) 2h (2 players)
UTG+1 bets $1, Sowbug raises to $3, UTG+1 raises to $8.80,
Sowbug calls $5.30 (All-In).

Final Pot: $19.95

Results below:  
UTG+1 has Qc Ac (full house, queens full of aces).  
Sowbug has Ah Ad (full house, aces full of queens).  
Outcome: Sowbug wins $19.45. UTG+1 wins $0.50. 

I recently discovered a key point about No Limit Hold 'Em, and I'm going to share it with my loyal readers. Ready? Here it is.

In No Limit Texas Hold 'Em, position is very, very important.

Wait! Wait! Don't close this browser window yet!

Yes, I know. Everyone knows position is important. That's Poker 101. Everyone knows it, but not everyone feels it. To understand the difference between knowing and feeling, imagine yourself on the balcony of a third-story apartment. You lean over the railing and look down to the sidewalk below. Now you stretch a bit farther out, and for the briefest moment your feet slip.

What emotion are you feeling at this point? Almost certainly fear. Why fear? Is it because you once read a book telling you that falling from high places was dangerous? Have you ever actually fallen off a third-story balcony onto a sidewalk? No. You instinctively feel the danger. The situation is obviously dangerous, and you don't need anyone to tell you so.

Back to position. Do you know it, or do you feel it? Until recently, I was a knower, not a feeler. I knew that starting hand requirements were higher for earlier positions, but I honestly wasn't entirely sure why. I did my best to resist the urge to limp in with QTo under the gun, but folding lovely hands like that felt like such a letdown (and that was certainly a feeling!).

I wish I could say I had an epiphany of some kind in my poker game that suddenly caused me to feel the importance of position. Nope, no such luck. Instead, I just fell off the balcony a few hundred times.

But even slow learners can be taught. Nowadays, when I'm in early position and see ATo at a tough table, my first emotion isn't excitement, but dread. Dread of splattering once again on the sidewalk. And now that I feel that dread deep down inside myself, I think I'm qualified to make you feel the same way. Here we go.

First, stop thinking of a poker table as a big circle with everyone sitting around it. The roundness of the table is an optical illusion that tricks beginners into ignoring position. Instead, unroll it into a long, narrow table. The guy in the small blind is at the front of the line. The guy with the dealer button is last in line.

Now I want you to imagine that we're changing the rules of the game. No money is involved. Every player starts with a score of one point.

At the beginning of each round, each player receives a piece of paper with a number written on it. Nobody knows your number except you. The numbers range between 1 and 20. Number 1 is the worst number. Number 20 is best. Number 2 beats Number 1, Number 3 beats Number 2, and so on. Number 20 is actually just a rumor; the rules say it exists, but I don't know of anyone who's ever actually held it. I saw Number 19 once on television. I did get Number 18 once, four years ago, and I've gotten Number 17 several times. The low numbers are really common; fifty percent of the time, you get Number 1. (For math weenies, the probability of a given number X is approximately 0.5 to the Xth power.)

There's one way to win this game: be the last player left. For each round of the game, people get a new piece of paper with a new, random number written on it, and the players either opt in or opt out for that round. All the players who opted in for the round show their numbers to each other. The player with the highest number wins the round and is awarded a point. The other players each lose a point. If they are left with zero points, they're knocked out for the rest of the game, and they lose.

What if people tie? Excellent question. For numbers higher than 5, ties lose and all players who have opted in lose a point. All other ties win and all players with the tying number receive a point.

If you're following the rules so far, you understand that it's bad to opt in to a round where your number is not the highest, especially when you're down to your last point. Opting out is boring, but it's safe, and you can theoretically get all the way to second place simply by opting out. Moreover, there's no such thing as a guaranteed win when multiple players opt in; even if you had Number 20, you'd lose if you went up against another player who had it, too.

So let's imagine you're first in a line of ten players in the first round of the game (meaning you have only one point). You haven't looked at your number yet. Do you opt in or opt out?

Even though you don't know what your number is, your instinct might be telling you to opt out. There are nine other players acting after you. If even one of them opts in with you and has a higher number, you lose the game entirely. (Note that unlike poker, this game doesn't increase your potential reward when more players opt in; at most you win one point during a round.) Chances are you'd be making the right decision to opt out without even looking at your number.

Now suppose you're last in line, and everyone ahead of you has opted out. Can you safely opt in? Of course you can; there's nobody after you. In fact, you'd always opt in to get the free point, even if you were holding Number 1. Once again, the number you're holding is irrelevant.

But what if instead the next-to-last guy did opt in. Now you're facing competition if you join him and opt in, too. If you did so, would you win? What number do you think he has? Or, to put it another way, was he taking a big risk by opting in? Not really; the only risk he was taking was that a single player (you) would opt in with a higher number than his. It's certainly possible that he's holding an amazing number like 19 or 20, but it's also quite possible that he'd opt in with 1 or 2, for the very same reasons that the last player would always opt in if he were unopposed (remember that in a low-number tie such as 1 vs. 1, both players win). So you should look at your piece of paper and opt in even if you have only a medium-strength number. In fact, given the fact that you have only a single late-position opponent, it would be somewhat rational (though pretty reckless) to opt in regardless of the number you have.

At this point we've established that opting in at the front of the line is always risky, but opting in at the end of the line is sometimes risk-free (in fact, it reduces future risk because you receive another point that protects you from elimination). Both cases are true regardless of the number you're holding. At the front of the line you're facing as many as nine opponents, but at the end of the line you know exactly how many you're facing.

Are you starting to feel why it's better to be at the end of the line? If not, then let me tell you the final rule I forgot to mention: if you lose, you are thrown off a third-story balcony. (Yes, this game is harsh, but it's educational so it's for a good cause.)

If it's still not hitting home, don't feel bad. I had originally imagined this article being only a couple paragraphs long and not nearly as intricate as it turned out to be. My goal was to describe a simplified game that emphasized position even more than Hold 'Em does, but still roughly resembled the actual pattern of Hold 'Em play. As it turned out, this imaginary game is simple, but it's hard to describe concisely.

But if you do now feel the beginnings of a new instinct about early vs. late position, congratulations! Next time you play poker, try applying that feeling to your game. In early position (sorry, I mean at the front of the line), formerly strong hands will show themselves as the chip-draining traps that they are. At the end of the line, you'll begin to recognize situations where your hand becomes a powerful weapon, regardless of the actual cards you're holding. And the same day you save a third of your stack by folding AJo under the gun only to see the hand develop into an all-in war between KK and QQ that you completely misread as a blind resteal, you'll also take down a pot on an ace-high flop with your 72o on the button against a middle-position guy who's convinced your ace's kicker is stronger than his. Both hands will intoxicate you, and that's a feeling you don't need to be taught.

Three weeks' worth of Mookie tourneys, condensed into one blog post.

Two weeks ago: raced home from work and registered at 7:00:57, seconds before registration closed (yay!). My first hand is KK (yay!). One player calls my big preflop raise (yay!). Flop comes rainbow, Jack-high (yay!). I bet the pot; other player reraises me all-in (yay!). I call, expecting TPTK, and indeed see opponent's AJ (yay!). Turn brings an ace (boo!), and I'm out. My first sub-minute Mookie. At least I can feel good that I got all my money in with the best hand.

One week ago: got no cards the first hour. Then things picked up after the break, and after a few great hands pitted against slightly-less-great hands, I was a huge chipleader. Then a couple very weird boards knocked me down a few pegs. Finally Waffles followed through on his threat to kick my ass next time I reraised his small-blind steal attempt. This time I had TT, and if it's possible to call faster than instacalling, Waffles did it with his KK. Out in 5th place, after the bubble.

Last night: lesson learned, or relearned I guess, was just to shut off the computer and get blinded out rather than trying to play while having a family discussion. Waffles (congrats on his eventual victory in the tournament) got me again; I called a preflop raise from a third player with my AJs, and Waffles reraised us both. First player folded; I suddenly came down with a severe case of aw-screw-it, called to see his AA, then shut off the computer and returned to real life. A complete waste of $11. Uh, except for the valuable lesson learned, I suppose.