My brother and I have a tradition of taking a ‘bro-trip” when either of us celebrates a birthday ending in zero. For his 50th we spent a weekend in Chicago; I used to live there and he’d never been. When he turned 60 we went to upstate New York to see the baseball Hall of Fame, then to the largest motocross race in the country, at Unadilla in New Berlin.
This year I turned 70 and had never been to Las Vegas. We took care of that earlier this month, the excuse being the country’s largest pool tournament running from August 4 – 9.
We stayed at the Flamingo, where my brother’s wife got us a stupid cheap rate. (I think it was $218 for the three nights combined.) As neither of us are gamblers, the hotel took a bath.
I’d like to tell you all the cool things we did, but, you know, what happens in Vegas and all that. I can share some thoughts.
• You may not be aware of this, but Las Vegas is hotter than a dog’s balls on a griddle. No one was frying eggs on the sidewalk; they were roasting whole chickens. Highs were in the 110s every day we were there. The low each morning was 91.
• The food was outrageously expensive, but excellent. A Gordon Ramsey hamburger cost $26.95; it was also the best hamburger I ever ate. Bottled water at the hotel was six dollars. (In what was clearly an oversight, vending machines in the hotel sold the same water for only $3.10.) Beers were routinely $13 – $15. We did find a place that sold dollar wings and three-dollar drafts during happy hour. The wings were huge and excellent. If you’re in Vegas and want that combo, check out Bottled Blonde, across the street from Bellagio.
• The sports book at the Westgate is large, quiet, and comfortable. No one hassles you to spend money, and no bright lights are in your face. We came to view it as a sanctuary. Of course, we weren’t there during a football weekend.
• Speaking of sports books, you can get a bet down right now – today – on NFL games to be played in January. It’s safe to say anyone placing such a bet – not knowing how the season will play out or who might be hurt – is a degenerate gambler who should seek immediate assistance.
• As might be expected in a town where the sole industry is tourism, everyone we dealt with could not have been nicer, and it never seemed forced. The sole exception was a pissy blackjack dealer who was taciturn at best when I didn’t see the “$50 minimum” sign at her table and tried to get a twenty down.
• Among these friendly people was an attractive young woman we met on The Linq Promenade, dressed in a cowboy hat, boots, chaps, and nothing else except for little spangly things over her nipples. She asked me if I wanted a picture with her. I replied, “Do I and will I are two different things.” She laughed and we went our separate ways.
• The monorail passes we bought the first day saved our lives, possibly literally, given the heat. We were able to tour the length of The Strip while never spending more than a few minutes at a time away from air conditioning. The two-day pass was the best $26 I spent all week.
The end result was about as I expected. I always enjoy time with my brother. We’re not just close; we genuinely enjoy each other’s company, even if we’re doing nothing more entertaining than riding the monorail or cooling off in the Westgate sports book.
While I had more fun than anticipated – the tournament exceeded all expectations – now that I’ve been I see no reason to go back. I won’t go out of my way to avoid Vegas now that I know the niches where I’m comfortable, but it is the most ostentatious, extravagant example of profligate spending to be found outside of Saudi Arabia or Donald Trump’s bathroom. Several times each day I couldn’t help thinking any nation that can afford this kind of spectacle can afford to feed hungry children and make sure they and their grandparents have adequate health care.
Stu turns 70 in 2030. Embryonic plans are already under development.
