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| - Lake Mead Meets Peter North Already
I've been bothered by the news this week and it's a mental debate I have whether or not to watch news at all. It's stressful, not just what the news is, but how people react to it with violence directed at each other instead of where angry energy should be: in replacing law makers and judges.
So this made me think of the last time I went to Bellagio. I have always walked past the fountains with whatever mission, I think maybe I have seen a full show twice. I exited the casino from the front entrance and for the first time I went along the lake walkway instead of that infernal moving walkway to the right.
It was the weekend and it was perfect, the sun was setting over the building and the sunlight made its dark orangy sherbert colored horizontal wipe disappear up the casino faces across the street on the east side. For some reason people pack into tight areas without seeing there's a big empty space 20' away, so I went there and splayed my elbows out on the railing, like Linus and Charlie Brown do when they shoot the shi7 and ponder. I always wondered what they were looking at. Starting from the right, this is what I saw:
The walkway. I have flashbacks because 2 of my broughams and I were making our way to Light one night (my embarrassing spiked hair, shiny shirt days) when we saw something huge fall down from the parking structure. People gathered around and we heard screaming. I didn't even look, we just took off to tell the bell captain. I always get skittish if I have to use that walkway and NEVER look towards the parking wall.
To the left, the intersection of Bell's valet. I spent a new years at this intersection, cops were patrolling single file in actual riot gear waiting for pandemonium. Drunk people goosestepped in formation behind them. This was a year that some guy climbed the light post, I know real specific. I think this guy made the news though after falling, right before fireworks. My date, wonder what... she's doin' now....
In the middle lane southbound in front of Paris. A friend was visiting, we used to be on call for mechanic work together. And in true poetic justice we both witness a drunk guy run across the street and actually get hit by and bounce off of the front of a minivan. Screw the beer we had, we lept into responder mode as I steered traffic away- people gunning it from waiting for that Flamingo light for so long. I almost got hit, too while my bro Jay dealt with the driver and hit tourist. Hundreds of people walking by and the ambulance guy said only one person called 911... Me. Humanity! Ponderous!
Barbary Coast. I never called it the replacement "B" word and weeks after my fountain show, they'd shut it down to make a more unpronounceable named "boutique" casino. Boutique in Strip-ese means add $75 more/ night over the rack rate nearby. It's where we saw Fat Elvis (self-proclaimed) before he was relocated. And gone the Victorian Room?! And Drai's before Vic branched to L.A. I will always ALWAYS remember Barbary as where the Dirty Dozen bachelorette party incident took place.
Again left, Olives' balcony, the restaurant across the way from where I watched the fountain show last. That night I led 2 women dressed to the nines past upset waiting people and talked a server into crashing a table (with a couple!) long enough for the show. Tipped the server a $20 for 15 minutes, worth it. And a great night was had, quite.
Above it, across the street at Caesars. There's a window I used to look out over there in one of my quiet hidden spots where I got caught up on work away from the loud chaotic office I was provided to "work" in.
Vegas is amazing when you can be there long enough have a memory every 60' or so.
Looking back, somehow I handled those days. I have to find a way to handle today the same way, be more positive and stay away from gatherings- mobs when the news gets bad.
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