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Signs of the Times

by 'Mad Marty' Wilson |  Published: Jul 11, '09

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I’m in Las Vegas for the World Series and it’s my favorite time of year. I went down to the Rio yesterday with my last $1,000. I played a one-table satellite and I won it. I won a $10,000 seat plus $150 as well to get my taxi fare home, and now I’m playing the main event in just two days. Life sure has a lot of ups and downs, and it’s safe to say I’ve seen my share.

I want to tell you about the first job I ever had. God loves a trier, and I’ve always tried to do the best I can with what I have. But I always knew I was doomed in work. In 1977, I’d just finished my apprenticeship at Bischkopf and Klein. Bischkopf and Klein wrote signs and put big signs up. One of them was Polish and the other guy was Slovakian, anyway that sounds about feasible. I was 20 years of age and they gave me a Morris 1100 Traveller with the wooden sides. It was the year of the Jubilee, 1977, and it was my big day because Prince Charles was coming to Wolverhampton and all the signs had to be changed.

I had two jobs that day. My first job was to make a sign for Pollock’s Ales. Pollocks made these ales that they subcontracted to Atkinson’s Corner House and I had to go and put this sign up for them. The second job I had was to make and post a sign for the Brickmaster’s Arms. So off I went. I’d loaded all the letters in my van because you had to put the letters up by hand, and the thing that they taught me was to always start at the back that way you make the best use of the space. So I’ve gone to Pollocks Ales and started with the S and the E and the L and the A, and when it was put up then I drove on to the Brickmaster’s Arms for my second sign.

I started from the back and I put up the S and the M and the R and the A, and then I started on the first word and I put up the S and the R and the E, and when I’d gotten all the way to the very last letter, it seemed I was a letter missing. I have only got the letter P left in the van, and I know for a fact that I put both a B and a P in the van. I thought to myself, “What have I done with that B?” And oh my gosh, by the time I had realised what had happened it was too late. Prince Charles had gone to have his photograph taken in front of Bollock’s Ale.

My job was over, the Morris 1100 was taken back off me, and never again would I be allowed to work in the sign industry.

I’ve spent a lot of time out here in Las Vegas with Padraig Parkinson. I remember the time Padraig Parkinson changed the life of Bridgnorth forever and never even knew it. In one day he got the whole town out of trouble. It all started with a friend of mine called Dave Brooks. Dave Brooks owns a pub in Bridgnorth called The Friars Inn and he has five bedrooms. And Padraig came over to stay with me one Christmas and I told him, “Dave will put you up.” So Padraig has gone up to see Dave at The Friars Inn. He took £500 out of his pocket and he said, “Dave, I want to have your best suite in the house.” Now, Dave’s only got five rooms. So what he did was, Dave took the £500 off Padraig and called to his son Matthew, “Matthew, go up and show Padraig the room, I’m putting him in the best suite in the house.”

Matthew has disappeared upstairs with Padraig, and David Brooks has gone across the road and he’s paid the £500 to the butcher, who David had owed for weeks.
Now the butcher in turn paid the £500 to the farmer, and the farmer then in turn paid the dairy the £500 that he owed him. The dairy then in turn paid the £500 to the transport manager who delivers all the stuff for the dairy. The transport manager immediately paid the local prostitute the money that he owed her, and the local prostitute went back to The Friars Inn to pay Dave Brooks the £500 that she owed him for the use of his rooms. Dave Brooks took the £500 from the prostitute and put the money on the counter.

At that exact moment, Padraig’s come down the stairs after looking at the ensuite room and he’s said to Dave Brooks, “There is no way I am stopping in this hotel. It’s rubbish!” Padraig grabs his £500 and walks off. Unbeknownst to Padraig, everybody in Bridgnorth is out of trouble, and he is on his way to find another hotel. Me? I’m on my way to try and win the World Series of Poker.

One dream. One bracelet. Once a year. Wish me luck!

"Mad" Marty Wilson plays at Red Hot Poker

 
Any views or opinions expressed in this blog are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of the ownership or management of CardPlayer.com.
 
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