Day Cinco

Context of the previous “Connotate this, bitch!”: Self-explanatory…

VEGAS, BABY, VEGAS!!! SIN CITY!!! WHATEVER HAPPENS IN VEGAS, STAYS IN VEGAS!!! Well, that’s all well and good but what if you didn’t do anything that needs hiding and you want to tell the world how your Vegas Vacation went? I hereby waive my god-given right to “Everything that happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” That’s right I pledge a full disclosure of all that happened in Las Vegas. Of course, the worst thing we did was try to get into the Bare Pool Lounge to see some nudity (you’d be amazed how difficult it is to see naked women in Las Vegas) but I hope the stories are still somewhat entertaining. So we started out our first night with the intention to scope out the strip. Just to explore the casinos and pick the ones we wanted to hit the next night. But a simple little slot machine inside the massive rooms of the MGM Grand Hotel and Casino destroyed those plans. This slot machine was called “Frenzy Shark.” My god it was awesome!!!!! Like all slot machines, the object of this game was to match up objects to win money. As if that isn’t addicting enough, if you got 2 or more shark fins in the first four reels and the frenzy shark in the last reel, you got to meet a pleasant little shark who shares his name with the game and play a bonus round where you could rack up a lot of money if you were lucky enough (I got 5 dollars in one round). After 5 or 6 hours and 8-10 mixed drinks at this wonderful contraption, it got to the point where Joe and I had our own personal theories as to how to win the game. We could let it spin out or stop it in mid-spin or we could bet 15 lines to give us more of a chance to win and then drop down to 5 lines to mix it up a little. We were positive we had it all figured out until as with all games in Vegas, we ran out of money. So at 4pm, what began as a mission to scope out the strip, turned into an 8 hour binge drinking, gambling, sloppy mess of a night. You’re average Vegas night. At 2am, we retired to the parked car in the garage of The Mirage to sleep off a little of the liquor before driving home. Good times. We woke up today with only a small inkling of guilt and even smaller hangovers (due to the high quality of liquor used. Seriously, some of the best mixed drinks we have ever had and it was all free as long as you’re gambling!). Then we made the long trek to the Grand Canyon. Or at least tried to. After driving for close to 3 hours through desolate desert landscapes, arid mountains and down one long, unpaved off-road experience we finally made it to the gateway to The Hulapai Indian’s Grand Canyon West where the new skywalk is located. Little did we know, the cheapest package we could get that would allow us to walk this architectural wonder costs $79 per person. So once we learned of this unfortunate fact, we drove that long unpaved road back to the paved road still in the middle of nowhere and once on that, to the town of Meadview (also in the middle of nowhere). There we stopped at their restaurant and ate a hearty meal while being treated to a view of the vast valleys and mountains in the area as well as Al Sharpton defending himself on Headline News. From there, we decided to follow the road (it was called Pearce Ferry Rd.) down to where it ends on a whim and were treated to a view arguably more majestic than even the Grand Canyon Lake Mead, a jewel of shimmering water, was hidden amidst the scorching hot mountains like a pearl in an oyster. We got our first glimpse of this natural wonder from atop a nearby mountain and continued getting mesmerizing glimpses as we winded down the mountains until we came face to face with it’s sheer splendor. It truly was one of best kept secret of the natural world. After that we drove back through all the barren roads and over the Hoover Dam to the strip for another night of gambling. And once again, lost all our money. A wonderful two days in Vegas, and here’s some other things that happened and observations we had:

You can keep going back to Vegas and always find something new. That’s why there’s so many old people. If it was boring they would have stopped coming back in the 1930’s.

Why is the western part of the US so much more expansive and breathtaking than the rest of the country? It’s like a family where one kid got all the good-looking genes whilst the others look like they’re the mutant babies of Steve Buscemi and Barbara Walters.

While watching the fountain show in front of the Bellagio, Joe and I got into a conversation about the nature of art. This is a favorite pastime of mine and often causes me to be passionately belligerent when defending my points of views. We were arguing the merits or lack there of an artistic water fountain show set to music. I thought it definitely was important art because it had emotional content, told a story and had a point of view. Joe thought that although he can appreciate the talent it takes to create an installation like that, he would much rather watch humans choreographed to music because they have greater capacity for emotional expression. I explained that even if you thought the water was not an emotional representation, the music took care of that. But I think the water expresses emotion too based on the movements it executed although I’ve always been someone who read emotions in movement. Whether it be body language, a sharp change in direction of a stream of water followed by an almost lyrical loop of it, or a dead leaf lilting softly in the wind, I think they contain the capacity to be provocative and though provoking which is in of itself the nature of art. It’s not like most art today which is force fed directly to the audience. This is an art that you have to meet half way but I’d argue that it becomes more resonant that way. I feel like I represented my point of view a lot better when Joe and I were having our debate but you get the gist.

Conversation Excerpt:
Joe: I don’t know why when I see a Dodge Neon, I think Mexican.

Here’s a little piece of advice you may not know. While on our recent leg of the roadtrip we began noticing a foul smell whenever we would have the air condition on outside air. We discovered that when your grill becomes a mass cemetery for the splattered carcasses of insects, this foul smell is what results. Since they spend the vast majority of their pitiful little lives feasting on shit and death, this consequently becomes their natural odor and when there’s enough of their formless guts on your grill, that symphonic aroma infiltrates your car and causes an altogether unpleasant experience. You’ve been warned.

Trivia: In 2002, after much research, British researchers identified what they thought to be the funniest joke in the world:

A couple of New Jersey hunters are out in the woods when one of them falls to the ground. He doesn’t seem to be breathing; his eyes are rolled back in his head. The other guy whips out his cell phone and calls 911. He gasps to the operator, “I think my friend is dead, what should I do?!?!” The operator in a calm soothing voice, “Just take it easy, I can help you. For starters, I need you to make sure he’s dead.” There’s a silence on the line and then a gunshot is heard. The guy comes back on the line and says, “Okay now what?”

“Connotate this, bitch!”: “I’ve been sitting on that for the past 4 days.”