New Albany, Old Friends

Greetings and salutations from Bubbe, back from Ohio with a NEW article!

I've been fortunate enough to travel all over the US, speaking about my two books, Searching for Bubbe Fischer and Small World . I've met many great mahj players, some of the friendliest of whom live in Dayton and Columbus, Ohio. About a dozen of them were among the 90 women gathered together New Albany, OH, for the annual New Albany Mah Jongg Classic (NAMJC).

The Classic was created in 2013 by Shelby Rhyne and Alice Sadaka. It's a one-day tournament full of fun and surprises. Shelby has since relocated to North Carolina, and the current co-director, Lisa Crawford, is about to depart for New England, but Alice has an able new partner in Andi Malinger, who has shown herself to be ready for duty!

In what promises to become an ongoing tradition, this year's four-round event was preceded by a three-round mini-tournament and dinner on Saturday evening. Because my third table on Saturday night finished so quickly, we added an extra "bonus" hand (without official points) so in fact I played 29 hands altogether.

If you have read some of my previous blog articles, you know that I both play and take notes during tournaments--usually on those little pads you get at hotels. Tournaments provide great research fodder. The main reason I choose to analyze tournaments, rather than weekly play, is because I am exposed to so many games in such a brief period. One weekend I played 76 hands--48 as part of the actual tournament, plus three- and four-round mini-tournaments. I like to analyze my winning (and wall game/not losing) percentage, as well as look at my overall patterns.

Did I mention that I'm both a math and mahj nerd?

So, as is usual at these events, some of my opponents who weren't familiar with me or my work wondered what the heck I was scribbling between hands. I explained that I like to keep notes on what I start with (pre-Charleston): how many jokers, but this time also how many Flowers. I also write down the hand I'm considering, post-Charleston; the hand I actually play by the end of the game; which hand won; how many jokers it had; whether it was picked or called for...this time I even (occasionally) noted when a Charleston was stopped after first left.

Keeping these statistics, I'm able to test out some of my theories. If you've read "SFBF" or heard me speak, you know that I feel that, over time, a well-matched group of players can each expect to win about 20% of the games, and have a wall game about 20% of the time. In my 29 games in New Albany, I won 6 games and had 6 wall games: 20.7%, each. Pretty much on target, as far as that goes.

I will write more about my tournament results in another entry--gotta run to another game! If you have any questions or comments about YOUR tournament experiences (or want to invite me to come play or speak in your town?!) email me at bubbefischer@gmail.com

Talk to you soon.

Bubbe

Beware the Mahj Monster

Greetings and salutations from Bubbe--it’s time to talk about another kind of mah jongg player!

Last week, I described Ms. Hamlet, our indecisive and (audibly) self-questioning opponent. Paralyzed by uncertainty, she prefers to stand at the abyss, unwilling to make a decision—any decision—that would allow the game to continue.

These kind of ladies mean no harm. I’ve thought about whether Hamlet’s dithering is meant to distract the rest of us and throw off our concentration, but now I understand that the poor thing is just confused and worried about making the wrong choice. She is a good-hearted soul.

Today I’m going to talk about someone who is quite the opposite. I refer to her as the Mahj Monster. She’s thoroughly unpleasant, and takes an aggressive, bullying stance. She makes it clear that she’s in charge. The walls must be set up “just so”; you must keep up her pace in passing; if you call for a tile too quietly, she will complain; if you display an exposure asymmetrically, she will correct it. She’s been known to slap opponents’ hands on more than one occasion. Worst of all, she will berate you and criticize your choices, either in the middle of a game or immediately afterward: “Why did you throw that? Are you stupid? That was a terrible decision!” She’s been known to reduce her opponents to tears.

It’s possible that you may meet this kind of darling at a tournament. I wrote at length about such encounters in  Searching for Bubbe Fischer. More recently, when I went to the Mah Jongg Madness tournament in March 2015 in Las Vegas, I was lucky enough to get moral support from Shelby Rhyne and Alice Sadaka, two mahj mates from North Carolina and Ohio. The great majority of our opponents were friendly and courteous, but whenever I had to deal with a difficult player, I’d find one of them and vent about it.

Alice had an excellent technique for deflating the Mahj Monster. When MM made an offensive or insensitive comment, Alice would politely turn to either of the other two people at the table and talk about something else. She would actively ignore the unpleasantness. My own method was to smile and tell myself that there were a few more hands, less than forty—twenty—ten minutes left to play with this horrible person, and then she would be out of my life forever. 

The problem, of course, is that some of us have a Mahj Monster in our regular game! Perhaps she was away last winter when you first joined your group, and now that she’s back, she expects to resume her role as Supreme Ruler. Maybe she’d been talking about wanting to find a game, and someone in your group innocently asked her to join. She may not have always been a monster. I can imagine that an otherwise pleasant player could be transformed, if other aspects of her life weren’t going well. 

It’s possible to tame this dragon—I’ve seen it done. Be calm and brave when you confront her. Explain that it’s a friendly game and that none of the players is more “in charge” than any other. She might cooperate. On the other hand, if she’s so obnoxious that you don’t want to deal with her on a weekly basis, then a decision must be made: is this the only game in town? Should you drop out and look for a group of kinder, more accommodating folks? What if everyone else wants to kick her out, too?

I’ll consider this “to be continued”…share your stories of confronting (or avoiding) your Mahj Monster via bubbefischer@gmail.com and I’ll post some of the best, later this summer. 

Talk to you soon--

Bubbe Fischer

Exterior Monologue...

Greetings and salutations—Bubbe’s back to describe someone you may have met at a mah jongg game.

I’ve named her after one of the most famous literary figures of all time—Hamlet. “To pass or not to pass?” “To throw or not to throw?” “To call or not to call?” “To…” Oh, just make up your mind, already!!

Ms. Hamlet’s articulations aren’t as profound as her Shakespearean namesake’s. In  Searching for Bubbe Fischer, I write about the player who dithers or self-talks, musing aloud and unable to make up her mind about any little thing. “Was that a six or a nine? I think they already threw two of those. Wait, let me count my tiles. What if I just switch these? Give me a second.” I’m not talking about a newbie here, I’m talking about someone with years of experience who still holds up the game.

Perhaps she doesn’t even realize that she’s doing it. Each of us has our own interior monologue, but it stays interior--most don’t feel the need to broadcast it. Imagine Ms. Hamlet going through her entire day without a filter, expressing whatever comes across the transom: “Should I make broccoli tonight, or zucchini? When’s the last time I got the oil changed? It looks like there’s construction going on across the street. When did Diane stop coloring her hair? She looks awful!”

She’d have no problem behaving that way in public—nowadays many people use blue-tooth headsets, so no one thinks twice if someone appears to be talking to herself. However, her mahj mates know what she’s really up to, and are frustrated with her constant chatter. It slows the game down and then they forget whose turn it is; they can’t focus on their tiles. Hmm…could that be her intention?!?

What causes Ms. Hamlet’s behavior? Is there any cure for the rest of us? She may have lost confidence in her mah jongg ability, and uses self-talk as a coping strategy. Perhaps it’s a holdover from early motherhood--many of us provided running commentary for our toddler companions, but stopped when they were old enough to put in earbuds and tune us out. Maybe she’s used to talking to her pets.

The kindest solution is to say, “Hamlet, dear, we are trying to concentrate on our own hands. Please keep your thoughts to yourself, and try to be mindful of the time.” The snarkier among us might start to answer her queries. A group I played with, years ago, came up with another solution. We only allowed our Hamlet three outbursts per session. “That’s one, Elsie,” we’d say. “You can’t keep holding up the game like this.” She usually got the hint and stopped after the second soliloquy.

If she persists even after you’ve asked her, time and again, to please get on with the game—and to please keep quiet and stop distracting everyone else—then you need to evaluate. Maybe you and Ms. Hamlet can take up a different hobby together. If you just can’t bear to change the way your group is configured, I suggest getting an egg timer and some ear plugs.

We’ll see who turns up at the table next time—if you have ideas you’d like to share, email me at bubbefischer@gmail.com . I’d love to hear your stories. 

Bubbe Fischer

P.S. On a serious note—I’m neither a gerontologist nor neurologist, but if someone’s behavior at the table has significantly deteriorated (increasingly forgetful, chronically indecisive or disoriented), it could be a sign of other issues. If you have a regular game with this person and know her family, tell them you’re concerned. The above article was meant to be in fun, but your friend’s confusion could be a symptom of more serious medical problems.

Does Size Matter?

Greetings and salutations from Bubbe, musing about which matters more: length or strength of passion (in regard to experience with mah jongg, of course!).

Long-time exposure to mahj could be merely an accident of birth. Some people I’ve met have known about mah jongg since infancy. Those who never took up the game tell me they remember hearing words like “bam” and “crak” coming from the living room, or that they were sometimes allowed to make little “brick houses” out of the tiles. Of course, there are many others who watched their mothers and grandmothers play, and followed right along. It was always part of their lives, first on the periphery but now as a weekly (or even daily) activity.  

Other people may think they know mahj. They are the ones who, when they hear the words “mah jongg,” reflexively think of those crazy solitaire games. At least they have a vague idea of what the tiles look like, but really, what they’re talking about is identical to any number of memory/matching games. They have no idea what we’re doing, at our little tables of four.

On the other end of the scale are those people who know literally nothing about the game. Sometimes when I say something about mah jongg, they stare at me blankly. 

“Mar jong? Is that self-defense?”

“You say it’s a game? Is it like Bunko?”’

Or, of course, my very favorite: “Who’s she?”

I try to explain that it’s kind of like four-person Gin Rummy, or that it uses ceramic pieces that are kind of like dominoes, but I don’t know if it resonates with them at all. I’d like to think that this game can become “big,” nationally. Certainly the Chinese version is hugely popular in certain sections of the U.S., as well as Wright Patterson among military families, but there’s no reason why NMJL rules version can’t one day become as popular as Canasta and (I fervently hope) Bridge. It’s fun, it’s exciting, it’s challenging, it’s ever-changing—what’s not to love?

But of course, I’m preaching to the choir, here. The majority of you love the game as much as I do, or you wouldn’t be reading this blog….there are the occasional few who just read it because they love their Bubbe (who can blame them?), but perhaps even you will take up the tiles.

No, the reason I’m thinking about length vs. strength is because I’m a recent convert to the game.  I only began playing in 2003, which is a very short time compared to the lifers I described, above. To them, I’ll always be a newcomer, but I’d like to think that my passion for the game makes up for my (relative) inexperience.

To those of you who have taken the game up even more recently than I, take heart! I believe you can fall just as head-over-heels. The basic strategies stay the same, so as long as you take good lessons (perhaps you’d like to read Searching for Bubbe Fischer? You can get it here: http://a.co/3qflKc7) and take your training seriously, I think you can become as good a player as any veteran. You absolutely can be as devoted as any of them. And the card changes every single year: comeApril, you can get up-to-speed and be ready to take on someone who’s been playing since the Eisenhower era!

My conclusion: it’s not length, but strength of devotion, that makes for a happy relationship with mahj!

Bubbe Fischer