Poker Face / Joker Face

You know the character, the one in the black and white movie.  Maybe it's a Western. Perhaps a gangster flick. He's the one at the poker table with the impassive, unreadable expression. Not that the others around the table don't have aspects of this trait, but this one player can't be deciphered. He* is silent, stoic, and sphinxlike. He studiously avoids betraying his cards — betraying himself! — by displaying any tells, any hints of his possession (a golden hand, or a pile of zilch) or intent. His impassioned, disinterested blank slate bestows power. It's not merely a matter of holding his cards close to his vest, as the saying goes. It goes way beyond the placement of hands. It is facial and physical. Posture and body language, as they call it, are of paramount value, arguably more than the cards in the hand. He's so good at it, you want to say: What cards? He has cards?

And so we have the quintessential poker face.

Poker Face.

Although it's a tired trope, the message and the metaphor remain legitimate: the power of mystery, of withholding; the notion of waiting, even teasing; the value of a mask, a persona; reserve as a resource.

And it's deeper than physical; it's infinitely more than a lack of tell-tale mannerisms or other giveaways. It's psychic, or whatever word we want to use to convey this inner disposition, this self-possession, or the appearance of such. (Does it matter whether it's real or a bluff? Why should it, as long as you can turn in a credible and winning performance?)

Successful sales people know this. The classic sales advice is: Ask the closing question and then shut up. The one who babbles on invariably unravels the deal just as it nears fruition.

Spies know this. So do negotiators, lawyers, detectives, referees, bureaucrats. How about spouses and parents?

As with most of life, knowing this and practicing it are two different realities, separated by an infinite chasm.

Is Poker Faceness learnable? Or is it "to the manner born." (This expression and its confusion and morphing with "to the manor born" is juicy stuff if you fancy etymology, as I do. Click on the link for that sideshow.) Can those who are not a Poker Face acquire the characteristic by diligence and discipline? Can it be practiced and honed? 

Should it?

I'm not a Poker Face.

Hardly.

Everyone who knows me knows it.

I trend opposite, a hybrid of impulsive, impatient, eager, passionate, even reckless, exuberance. 

Though I often wish otherwise, these are the cards I've been dealt, to twist the metaphor. The world needs, what shall we call them?, Joker Faces as much as Poker Faces, doesn't it? One hopes there's a cosmic ying and yang at work here. After all, who doesn't need a Joker Face at the party, the one who says "look here, over here, me, me, me, hahaha," laying it all out there, win, lose, or draw, who cares, take it or leave it? Is there an altogether different power in that: a disarming distraction, a feint, a charade of charm? A deft dodge? The flaw in this argument is that the Joker Face can't help it; it's not an act. Wait! Same for the Poker Face. Presumably.

Joker Face.

Hit me.

Whaddaya got?

A Royal Flush! 

Kiss my fool's cap.

*I've used a male pronoun throughout, mostly because that's my gender. But it's worth a discussion all on its own: Is this a male stereotype? Is it culturally biased against females? One would like to posit that a woman can be a Poker Face as well, or better, as the next guy. The song "Poker Face" by Lady Gaga attests to this. Incidentally, in doing minor research for this post, I learned some of the back story for the lyrics of this hit. Among other things, it reportedly makes reference to the singer's thinking and being elsewhere during sexual experience. Gee, no wonder the song was such a blockbuster.