Oasis in the Desert

I've spent the past few days in Vegas recovering from my near-death experience.  Like a prospector in the wild west I came to this mountain-cradled oasis in the desert seeking booze, gambling, and women to escape the harsh realities of the unfeeling, seemingly endless expanse of the Rocky Mountains to rejuvenate my body and soul.  I'm leaving here tomorrow and heading for California hoping to find redemption in the land of milk and honey.  I feel fine physically, but living through, and reliving by blogging, the horrors of the fiasco in Flagstaff took it's toll emotionally, and I've mostly kept to myself the past few days.  You should lower your expectations right now for any new blog posts because in Flagstaff I went to the edge and looked down and lived to tell.  However, you can't change the nature of who you are - so I'll be seeking thrills and excitement in California.  

I stayed at the Hard Rock and then moved over to my current location the LVH, formerly the Las Vegas Hilton, now simply the LVH.  Elvis lived in the Penthouse suite here when he performed in Vegas from 1969 to 1976.  The Sportsbook at the LVH, where I made my only bet in Vegas, $100 on the Red Sox to win the World Series, is appropriately named the LVH Superbook because it is massive.  Hundreds of screens from floor to ceiling with constantly changing odds and games from all over the world.  I want to live there.  Here's how I've spent the past few days:

LVH pool.  The DJ refused to play my song request.  

I was tempted to march behind the bar and demonstrate for the sushi chef how to properly roll rice tight.

This team is special.

Layin back in the cut under the spell of the dry desert heat.

NFL regular season win totals sheet...I felt like such a boss with a "sheet".

Pad Thai with chicken and shrimp from 888 Noodle Bar.

Homework by the pool.  2 for 1 cocktail hour. Blue margarita and something I regret getting. 

I had to switch out my Chevy Cruze because an orange light came on and the pressure of the tires was out of whack.  Neither one of us handled the thin air well, apparently.  I swung by the airport and drove to Hertz because I ain't got time for a broken cage.  I did try and put air in but that only made it worse.  The guy at the gate greeted me and I tried to be as articulate as possible about the problem.  We had the following exchange:

Hertz guy: Returning?

Me: No, I'm having a problem with car.

Hertz guy: What seems to be the problem?

Me: The tires are all fucked up. 

Hertz guy: Well that narrows it down, pull right over there.

I got a sexy new midnight blue Cruze as a replacement after I refused a Toyota Corolla, mainly because my brother drives a Corolla and his is so filthy that I wanted to wear gloves and a mask last time I borrowed it to go to the Fitz & the Tantrums show with Johnny G at the Paradise. 

Vegas is Pacific time so when I was lounging by the pool today the Red Sox game had already started, so I pulled out my phone and played along for a few innings until my phone died on the MLB Preplay app, which I've become obsessed with.  You pick what you think is going to happen with every at bat and you can play along with your friends.  It's perfect because it combines several things I love - baseball, making predictions, competition, and gambling.  I've been playing with my buddies Mr. Pig, JBFunk, Tommy, Mr. Beer, and Pumpt Pumpt Gallagher so if you're on it look me up - dirtdog31. 

My favorite song that I've been listening to on the trip so far is Avicii - Wake Me Up.  I love it.  I had heard it but it wasn't until my buddy Dan requested it that it stood out to me.  I've also been mesmerized by Gordon Lightfoot's If You Could Read My Mind.  Gordy's lyrics are so tender and heart-breaking.  Click the link to enjoy the video with lyrics set to images of the stars of Prison Break.     

So, I'm feeling refreshed and I'm heading for the coast.  I'm afraid to reveal my new plan in case the spirits that haunt these hills throw me another curveball, so I'll keep it secret and keep it safe.  I can't even remember my old itinerary, except that right now I'd be drawing the Dead Man's Hand in a poker tournament in Nuttal and Mann's Saloon in Deadwood, SD where Wild Bill was shot by Jack McCall.  Just kidding, I've moved on from that because I have a short memory for any type of disappointment or anger.  It's not the strongest of the species that survives, I don't need the lung capacity of a Japanese pearl diver, it is the most adaptable to change.