You’ll get a rise out of this. I am going to write very little for today’s post. Besides, you know how we roll: What plays in vegas, stays in Vegas. I will share one dark secret. I pissed away 20 bucks on the slot machines.
The first night we Motel 6‘d it on 4125 Boulder Highway. We arrived in the evening and it was hotter n’ hades. We stayed in the air conditioned room unable to venture out into the cloud of oppressive air. Not sure if I can recommend this hotel. It was not cheap but was a no frills barren room including no fridge. Our cooler, needless to say, warmed up as did all the perishable foods inside.
The second night was much nicer and right in the thick of things at Bally’s. Incidentally, it was almost the same price to stay at the fancier hotel on the strip than the cheap-o one on a busy highway. But to the Motel 6’s credit, all hotels were out of hand on the first night of our arrival due to an annual rave fest called the EDC or Electric Daisy Carnival. Considered the world’s largest dance music fest, young’uns from all over the west coast bum rushed Las Vegas with their decked out cars and neon-colored hair and body paint. From the looks and sounds of it, this rave was a 3-day ecstasy-induced fun n’ love fest. Fun stuff.
We were planning for our last stop on this journey before getting to California to be footloose and fancy free. And it was, to a degree. To about 118 degrees. But we were reminded that while, yes, Las Vegas is a fun place, the sound of constant ringing, dark cool interiors and a sweltering heat minimizes the pleasure factor. In my younger days I would have ridden the Stratosphere Tower’s Big Shot (as I once did) and the MGM’s Skyscreamer where I was hoisted up 200 feet and dropped in a free fall and then swung outward flying across the air. That ride closed down. I wonder why. It was probably an OSHA hazard or some such nonsense. Really, what could possibly be dangerous about free-falling 200 feet? I was in a harness.
There’s a part of me that covets the idea of a Vegas from eras gone by, romanticizing the suave debonairness of the Rat Pack; those classy folk in their fine frock sipping Martinis and Manhattans and smoking like chimneys. Then my mind wanders to how life really was with a general lack of tolerance for differences in people, family secrets and unspoken abuses along with littering as a national pastime. Back then doctors touted the health benefits of nicotine and encouraged pill cocktails as well as the mixed drink kind. The times have changed. Thank the Gods and Goddesses.
In Vegas, I got into a long argument with the man at the roulette wheel over what I considered to be an odd number.
I only ever play Vegas one night at a time. It’s a hideous, gaudy place; it may not be the end of the world per se, but you can certainly see it from there.
Man, I really like Vegas.
My memories of Las Vegas were all with my father when I was, like, a teenager. He was best friends with Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin, and we’d come up and see the shows and go backstage afterwards and have dinner together. It was one of my first educations about stars and how they really are back stage.
My dad was kind of a pool shark and had a Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin thing going on. I’ve always been fascinated by the fifties because of him. There was a hip, cool, anything-goes atmosphere back then, but looking good was still a priority.
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Our Journey West Across the US
Post #1: Macon Music in Georgia
Post #2: Boy from Tupelo, Mississippi
Post #3: Two Must-Sees in Memphis Tennessee
Post #4: Mosey Through the Arkansas Ozarks
Post #5: Gettin’ Our Kicks on Route 66 from Missouri to Sapulpa, Oklahoma
Post #6: More Route 66 Kicks from Sapulpa to Oklahoma City
Post #7: Don’t Mess with Texas on Route 66
Post #8: Route 66 Texas Panhandle
Post #9: Bound for Tucumcari, New Mexico
Post #10: Santa Fe’ed Your Soul
Post #11: The Winds of Taos
Post #12: The Good, the Bad, and the Heinous of New Mexico
Post #13: Dusky, Durable Durango
Post #14: Cliff Dwellings of Mesa Verde Colorado
Post #15: Moab Rocks
Post #16: No Clever Title for Richfield, Utah
This is Post #17: Leavening Las Vegas