[Bill,
June 13, 2008]
Living Las Vegas
Once again I had a great time in Las Vegas. Very relaxing. Took three very long walks in the sun, enjoying the blinding sunshine and dusty winds.
I have no idea what's so appealing to me about LV, but something about the place just chills me out. I had to work at a convention, and then work at home in the hotel, and for some reason, I feel like I've been on a two-week vacation. I mean, that level of relaxation.
Some highlights:
1. Feel like a rube, Part I. I go into the Hard Rock Cafe, and lo and behold, a TV show is shooting some kind of program that apparently involved some sort of jiggling. Lo and yonder, on the casino floor, about 30air-headed bimbos bikini models, cavorted, looking both bitchy and put-upon. One was not wearing a bottom. She had her back to me, and didn't appear to be wearing a G-string. Just two moons for all to see. Nothing like that at the local watering hole. Then I stopped looking and walked back to the hotel in the sun.
2. Wanna buy a duck? I walk out into the early morning desert sun to buy some cigars at the drug store down the street, and there, waddling on the already-steaming asphalt, is a female mallard. She seemed confused about which way to go. My heart, suddenly liberal, began to bleed — The duck, despite its indecision, seemed to be heading for a nearby stream bed that's been dry, oh, let's say 1,000 years. I feared for the duck, but who do you call about a duck in the desert? "Las Vegas Police, how can I help you?" "There's a duck." "Is the duck disturbing you, sir?" "No, but where's the duck from? Where's it going? Its life is at risk!" "So you're saying the duck is not disturbing you." "Only in the sense of remind me of the fragility of life." "Um, OK."
3. Feel like a rube, Part II: Having a noon smoke at the convention center. Lots of safety folks puffing up and enjoying fresh tobacco flavor. Sit down in the shade. Um, two young ladies who were both overdressed and underdressed and who did not have name tags sit down next to me, and ask me if I'm here alone. For a second I thought, golly, I must be ruggedly guapo hermano. But, realistically, I don't usually do this well. Sure enough, four free tickets to a strip show are offered, as well as a more suggestive one inappropriate for this family blog (cough, cough). After I rebuffed their offer, they got up and walked into the convention center. Part of me appreciated their entrepreneurial spirit. These two professionals weren't hanging back and working a casino lobby for conventioneers at night. They were up, dressed, prepared with business cards, and working the convention itself, during the convention. Surely, there's a business case study there.
4. Are you famous, too? Shortly after the strippers left, I'm chatting with a safety practitioner. I tell him a story about how I fell into my living room because the bottom of the loftstairs was too dark and I couldn't see the last two stairs. And he says, unprompted, "Yeah, and the funny thing was, the guy had to go back up the stairs to get a lamp." Turns out I was talking to one of my own subscribers. Yeah, I'm famous. And I don't even have to wear a clock on the plane (See Item 8 below).
5. Best line of the conference: "We have 50,000 employees, and 40,000 of them are complete idiots. We write all our policies keeping in mind that our employees have size 18 necks and size 5 hats."
6. Non-producible results department. I bet B17 twice at roulette. Lost twice. Out $20. B8 and R19 are the answers. Just so you know — when you want to bet B17, B8 and R19 come up in that order. But I don't feel bad. The last two times I went to LV, I won $70 and $55 — on the latter, I hit a point of four. To paraphrase the great Ignatius Reilly, Fortuna's Wheel turns, and will again.
7. 9-1-1 is a joke. On the flight back, that guy from Public Enemy who wears the clock got on the plane. Yes, he was wearing the clock — just in case no one recognized him. Sat in coach three seats down from me. Kept saying the word, "Cheesesteak." I go to Philly for the cheesesteaks. Philly's known for great cheesesteaks. I can't wait to get a cheesesteak. FWIW, he seemed like a decent sort, for a minor celebrity flying coach. But shit, easy on the cheesesteaks. They're good, but good for one mention. It's not like they're served by a bottom-less waitress.
8. 90 minutes fromNY to Paris. Or at least, 90 minutes to find my car in the economy parking lot. Lots of exercise on a cool Philly night. But eventually, by retracing my steps and through the practice of positive visualizations, I found it. Turns out it was exactly where I left it. It's one of the downsides of cars. They don't think. At least you can whistle for a horse.
9. Ass, meet alligators. And, then, after a night at exciting and classy HoJo's in Springfield, I went back to work. Had my morning toasted corn muffin and two Coke Zeros. Turns out I'm in pretty good shape, but even though I worked my ass off out there, I still have some digging out to do.
But first, the weekend. Peace out, Bill
I have no idea what's so appealing to me about LV, but something about the place just chills me out. I had to work at a convention, and then work at home in the hotel, and for some reason, I feel like I've been on a two-week vacation. I mean, that level of relaxation.
Some highlights:
1. Feel like a rube, Part I. I go into the Hard Rock Cafe, and lo and behold, a TV show is shooting some kind of program that apparently involved some sort of jiggling. Lo and yonder, on the casino floor, about 30
2. Wanna buy a duck? I walk out into the early morning desert sun to buy some cigars at the drug store down the street, and there, waddling on the already-steaming asphalt, is a female mallard. She seemed confused about which way to go. My heart, suddenly liberal, began to bleed — The duck, despite its indecision, seemed to be heading for a nearby stream bed that's been dry, oh, let's say 1,000 years. I feared for the duck, but who do you call about a duck in the desert? "Las Vegas Police, how can I help you?" "There's a duck." "Is the duck disturbing you, sir?" "No, but where's the duck from? Where's it going? Its life is at risk!" "So you're saying the duck is not disturbing you." "Only in the sense of remind me of the fragility of life." "Um, OK."
3. Feel like a rube, Part II: Having a noon smoke at the convention center. Lots of safety folks puffing up and enjoying fresh tobacco flavor. Sit down in the shade. Um, two young ladies who were both overdressed and underdressed and who did not have name tags sit down next to me, and ask me if I'm here alone. For a second I thought, golly, I must be ruggedly guapo hermano. But, realistically, I don't usually do this well. Sure enough, four free tickets to a strip show are offered, as well as a more suggestive one inappropriate for this family blog (cough, cough). After I rebuffed their offer, they got up and walked into the convention center. Part of me appreciated their entrepreneurial spirit. These two professionals weren't hanging back and working a casino lobby for conventioneers at night. They were up, dressed, prepared with business cards, and working the convention itself, during the convention. Surely, there's a business case study there.
4. Are you famous, too? Shortly after the strippers left, I'm chatting with a safety practitioner. I tell him a story about how I fell into my living room because the bottom of the loftstairs was too dark and I couldn't see the last two stairs. And he says, unprompted, "Yeah, and the funny thing was, the guy had to go back up the stairs to get a lamp." Turns out I was talking to one of my own subscribers. Yeah, I'm famous. And I don't even have to wear a clock on the plane (See Item 8 below).
5. Best line of the conference: "We have 50,000 employees, and 40,000 of them are complete idiots. We write all our policies keeping in mind that our employees have size 18 necks and size 5 hats."
6. Non-producible results department. I bet B17 twice at roulette. Lost twice. Out $20. B8 and R19 are the answers. Just so you know — when you want to bet B17, B8 and R19 come up in that order. But I don't feel bad. The last two times I went to LV, I won $70 and $55 — on the latter, I hit a point of four. To paraphrase the great Ignatius Reilly, Fortuna's Wheel turns, and will again.
7. 9-1-1 is a joke. On the flight back, that guy from Public Enemy who wears the clock got on the plane. Yes, he was wearing the clock — just in case no one recognized him. Sat in coach three seats down from me. Kept saying the word, "Cheesesteak." I go to Philly for the cheesesteaks. Philly's known for great cheesesteaks. I can't wait to get a cheesesteak. FWIW, he seemed like a decent sort, for a minor celebrity flying coach. But shit, easy on the cheesesteaks. They're good, but good for one mention. It's not like they're served by a bottom-less waitress.
8. 90 minutes from
9. Ass, meet alligators. And, then, after a night at exciting and classy HoJo's in Springfield, I went back to work. Had my morning toasted corn muffin and two Coke Zeros. Turns out I'm in pretty good shape, but even though I worked my ass off out there, I still have some digging out to do.
But first, the weekend. Peace out, Bill