Fear and Loathing in Vegas. A Savage Journey to the Loss of 15 Dollars

This is the view of the sunset as we left Hoover Dam and entered Vegas. It made me think of a quote of Hunter S. Thompson's on San Francisco in the 60's and how much changed between '67 and '72 by the time he visited Vegas:

There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda... You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning...
And that, I think, was the handle — that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply PREVAIL. There was no point in fighting — on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave...
So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark — that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.    

-Hunter S. Thompson "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas"

Although the buffoonery of the 60's drug culture wore off at an early age for me (seriously, Jim Morrison... enough said about clowns...although he sang well. 'Lizard King'?...okay... have fun Jim), some of the literature and ideas still ring true. Writings by Thompson and Kerouac still have a profound effect on me, and this piece alone made me want to visit Las Vegas. No offense to Elvis' perfectly performed "Viva..." song. But there was (and is) a dark underbelly to the Vegas idea of a good time. Now, Ash and I did not consume drugs to a lethal point as Thompson and his attorney in my other favorite book, but it is definitely true that this is not the place for such things. This town is over the top folks. Some may think "Why visit New York or Venice when it's all here?" but there is no comparison, and I'm sure I'm not convincing anyone here. Venice and New York have so many wonderful cultural things to offer, and Vegas has none. Seriously, without Hunter Thompson's book, I would have no interest at all.

There is a sadness once you leave the strip area, as illustrated here by a photo of Ash when we were in the laundromat (when she was updating this very blog). As Thompson said about the people in LV "...And, Sweet Jesus, there sure are a hell of a lot of them - still screaming around these desert city crap tables at four-thirty on a sunday monring. Still humping the American Dream...". Cest la vie. To each their own though.

We did get a sweet deal in the Luxor though, which has the strongest light in the US pointing straight skyward. How telling of Vegas dreams, don't you think?
Two accounts of people are worth retelling here. One is when I was wandering around our hotel's casino after Ashleigh had passed out (after one Long Island ice tea... yeah, I was disappointed in her tolerance as well). There was a woman sitting above me in the bar. It went down as follows:

Woman: Do you have the time?

Jeff: Yeah, sure (fumbling for cell phone). I think it's 2:30

Jeff:... Uh, looks like 3a.m.

W: Ok, thank you.

J: No problem.

W (as J was walking away): How are you doing? (awkward one second pause in her sentence, as if she forgot something) How are you doing, sexy?

J: Ha ha ha ha... Okay (uncomfortably walking away)...

W: Are you here alone?

J: (realizing this is a prostitute) No, I'm here with my wife, but have a good night.

W: You too (as Jeff essentially runs from the area)!

Another was a rough, Brooklyn-ish fellow that was trying to sell us a time share. We had learned this on our way in to check in. We were corralled by a nice older woman to welcome us. Suddenly, she had us at a desk where we were offered Chris Angel tickets for half price.

"Seriously, I wouldn't watch that douche nozzle if he were performing seppaku on my front lawn" I thought.

"No thank you", I actually said.

But after we knew of the scam for half price tickets to horrible shows, we were wary. Vinny, the Brooklyn-guy refused our brush off.

"I'll give you a free room" he threatened. Seriously, it sounded threatening. Almost as if to say, "I'll punch this free room into your face". Needless to say, we declined. I've illustrated him here:

His fists were really that big.

After all this, it was on to old Vegas, to see Circus Circus, where Hunter, Elvis and the old Rat Pack hung out... It was the saddest show on Earth. The juggler looked so defeated as he murmured "excuse me" and sulked by us for his performance.

We had to drown the sadness of this performers tears in some fantastic food. So on to Venice. Where the canals are as fake as the juggler's smile (but cheaper than a gondola ride in the ACTUAL Venice... I recall making a decision in Venice in 1999. Something along the lines of 'Do I want a 30,000 lire gondola ride or wine for the next 30 nights?'. You do the math. I'm sure you know my final answer).

The food in Venice was absolutely wonderful. Ash and I will return just for this...

Then, after sweating out the 116 degree weather, we decided to take an evening dip in the luke-warn Luxor swimming pool. Despite the 72 degree water, it was a much-needed chlorinification. Glorious indeed. But be aware, Vegasistes, the pools close around 7 p.m. They way we figured it, is that you weren't spending money in the pool, so they advise that you send the kiddies off to bed, and spend some of your hard-earned dollars on scotch and beer... The way Sinatra would have advised you; "Make it one more for baby, and one more for the road".


Although it may sound like a slamming of Vegas, I will admit, it's a hell of a place. Despite all the sadness of crushed dreams and spent money, it has a certain charm about it. Ash and I even gambled a bit. The total loss was 5 dollars (USD). We were up 16 at one point, but I had to go get another scotch, and blow it. Ash helped me make this decision though, so it wasn't all me.
"Bright light city gonna set my soul, a gonna set my soul on fire"

-Elvis Presley, "Viva Las Vegas"

The Snoochie Poochie

Maddie lost her short fight with cancer this morning, we are very sad but have been talking about our favorite memories of the Snooch.  Here are a few:

• Maddie stayed with us in DC (dubbed Snooch in the City).  I went to Doreen's bachelorette party and Jeff and the Snooch hung out at the 18th St apartment.  Jeff came to pick me up late night, taking the Snooch out onto the streets of Adams Morgan where her jaw opened like a bulldozer and scooped up Jumbo Slice pizza as they walked to the car.  She loved pizza and Adams Morgan was crust heaven.
• When I was in college, I came home a weekend to visit the family while I was sick.  I layed on the couch, where Maddie was not allowed, but she jumped up and layed on the couch with her head in my lap.  She always knew when you didn't feel well.
• You could always tell when Maddie got in the trash.  You would come home and she would barely greet you.  You wouldn't think much of it until you came into the kitchen with the trash bag contents all over the floor.  Maddie only wanted to please people, unless it came to the garbage.  And then she didn't give a fuck.
• When we would eat dinner on the deck, we would sometimes throw scraps into the woods.  Maddie would wait until we weren't looking and then run into the woods and eat corn cobs, chicken bones, etc.  Maddie loved food.
• The Snooch would beg Jeff for treats anytime he came into the house.  We determined Jeff is going to be the sucker Dad and I'm going to be mean Mom.  Jeff loved when she would howl for treats and throw her head back so her ears would stand straight up.
• The Snoochie slept with Jeff and I while we lived at the LoBalbo house from May to July.  Jeff would get up during thunder storms to make sure she was ok and would pet her for hours until she felt better.  I may be the sucker, but at least we know he'll pull late night duty.  hahaha, duty.

She was just a good dog, and we will all miss her very much.  I hope it's a really long time until I hear my Mom crying on the phone again because that's almost harder than the news you get from her.

In honor of the Snooch, we're asking for everyone have one ham and egg for yourself, and another on the ground in honor of our fallen homie.  RIP Snoochie Poochie.

cue: bone thugs n' harmony (or kibbles n bits theme song)

Grand Canyon, Hoover Dam and the Big "Whatever"

For those of you who have visited the four corners, we sympathize. Ne'er a better waste of 3 dollars has been collected. The sun beats down at 109 degrees, and people stand in the center saying WTF? Here I am in my "no big deal pose".
The only plus is that they sell some sweet Navajo fry bread (which my lovely grandmother used to make). It is savory. I felt bad eating it in front of Ash, but thank God it exists. If you ever drive through the Navajo reservation, get some. It truly rules. The only downside is if you get it with powdered sugar, your lap is covered with the shit by the time you get to Flagstaff. If you get pulled over by a cop, they'll either understand the delicious bread treat, or they'll think you came directly from Studio 54. "Excuse me Mr. Jagger, but I'm going to have to make sure that's sugar...", they'll say.

This picture is an unlikely patch of green and beautiful yellow flowers on the way to the Grand Canyon.
The picture actually looks more impressive than the canyon itself (this day, at least). Although impressive, we felt that Waimaya Canyon in Hawaii was a bit more awe-inspiring. At this time of day, it almost looked like a backdrop. We will explore in the canyon next time, and try to go at sunset. So, I am not saying it's not worth visiting at all. Just go during sunrise/sunset.

The Hoover Dam also proved to be exactly what I thought it was going to be. A big dam... Ash was freaked out by the edge, hence the grimace...

Vegas, around the bend... Time to cool off from the 116 degree temperature.

 

P.S. If you are trying to stay in Flagstaff in the summer, don't. They charge outrageous amounts during the summer. We searched everywhere online, and finally found a Budget Inn for 55 a night. After the heat, we needed some cool air sleeping for a night. Just move on to Vegas where you can find a deal.

Real-time Update

We've been a few days behind on posting, the wilderness doesn't have a great wifi signal.  To let you know where we are, we're in VEGAS BABY!!!!  We've hit the Grand Canyon and Hoover Dam and we're at the Luxor until tomorrow (actually the laundromat now.  I know, exciting).  We will update with pics soon if our camera doesn't melt in the 109 degree heat.  

Mayor McCheese and Arches National Park

On the good advice from Scott Rouse, we headed to Arches National Park in Utah to enjoy some hot, dry weather after our cool Colorado nights.  We camped about two hours from the park the night before to ensure we would arrive early enough in the morning to claim a coveted tent camping space in the park.  Our site was by far the sweetest campsite either of us have stayed at.

We prepared for a hike after setting up camp, but were sidetracked by two chatty fellow campers that couldn't take the hint that we wanted to go.  After about 30 minutes of shooting the shit, we went off on a hike of Delicate Arch in the park.  Mayor McCheese was there to explain the formation of the arches (an endeavor he took on shortly after the success of McDonald's, otherwise known as the "Golden Arches".

The park used to be an ocean but dried into salt.  On top of the salt, layers and layers of rock and sediment formed.  Salt is unstable, and the heavy rock caused parts of it to fall.  Some areas of rock stayed together and formed the arches.  Or so they presume, they don't really know.  All we know is that it was gorgeous - some of the most unique landscape either of us have seen.

Balancing Rock:
Delicate Arch from Navajo Arch (Delicate is on the Utah license plate)
Navajo Arch
The Mini - yay!  Still running!

Our favorite formation is a little something we nicknamed Cock Rock, see if you can figure out why:

After our hike to Delicate Arch, we were spent.  The sun is intense and it was hot hot hot out.  Jeff started getting the shivers and I got a massive headache.  This was all compounded by the storm front that came through that caused our tent to flip over and dust to be blown elbow deep into our sinuses.  Our tent stakes took a beating with the ridiculous rocky hardness of the terrain.

The wind died down around dinner time, we fried up some halibut with brown rice and broccoli and had our next door tent neighbor Zack over for dinner.  

The silence of the park was what really got me.  It's too dry for a lot of noisy wildlife like frogs, we just heard the gentle swooshing of bats as they swept into camp to nab tasty moths.  It was a windy night and there weren't any showers so we smelled lovely.  We broke camp in the morning and went to Durango, CO to visit Jeff's friend Danny.

Danny, a god among men, allowed us to use his shower.  Bless him.  Although I'm sure it benefitted him as well since he didn't have to smell us anymore.  Danny cracked my shit up, he and Jeff haven't seen each other since college and when Jeff asked him what he's been up to, it went something like this: 

D: Did you know that I lived in Boston?

J: No, didn't hear that

D: Did you know that I almost lost my leg?

J: No, man, didn't know that either

D: Did you know I was in a wheelchair for two years?

J: Jesus, no

They had a lot to catch up on, Danny has moved to two cities and stayed in both for less than two weeks.  We're aiming for 1 day in LA before moving back so as to top him.

You Can't Spell Culture Without C-U-L-T

Just a side note on the New Belgium Brewery Tour from Ashleigh.

So I don’t consider myself a particularly touchy-feely person.  I hug friends and family and tell them I love them, but I’m not one for sensitive talks about my feelings.  The first time Jeff told me he loved me we were both a little drunk and he got teary.  I made fun of him for the next week or so and he learned his lesson.

Our brewery tour guide was basically my worst nightmare.  I should have been tipped off by her overly wide eyes and air of general excitement.  She began the tour by giving us the blow by blow history of the brewery, speaking of Jeff and Kim (the founders) like they were the leaders of a sorority she was desperate to join.  The history of the first famous beers were explained with extreme enthusiasm and lots of, “Isn’t that great?!?!  WOW!”. 

She took us into the brewery building where the beer ingredients were being processed, I would have liked a more detailed tour on what was going on in each area instead of , “Here is this, this and this.  Look around and we’ll meet up later”.  I loved the Jack Daniels distillery tour because it went through the total process while explaining the history and uniqueness of the liquor.  With the New Belgium tour, it felt like a glorified business plan.

The tourguide took us through the four core values of New Belgium and the motto.  Anyone who has suffered through business school is rolling their eyes right along with me.  I’m not sure the hippy girl who loves beer realized what a corporation she works for.

She took us outside to tell us about their annual meeting and how if you’ve worked there for a year you give an “owners speech” to your coworkers about what being an owner of the brewery means to you.  I have never seen a first time mother as excited about her baby as this girl was about what this speech means to her.  My eyes are still sore from all the rolling they were doing.  I spontaneously got my period, and I'm pretty sure Jeff did too. 

After another twenty torturous minutes, we were set free in the tasting room where there were no spaces to get your free beer, not that I could have had it anyways.  As nephew Nate says, weak.

In other crying news, I have actually had a rough week.  In Tulsa, we came upon a dog that had just been hit by a car and was dying and twitching in the middle of the highway while his dog buddy was stuck in the median looking back and wondering what happened to his friend.  It kills me to leave any person or animal that needs help but we weren’t able to stop so I spent the next twenty minutes crying in the back of the Johnston’s car.

My Snoochie Poochie, Fatty Maddie (my parents dog) had to undergo emergency surgery Monday and had her spleen removed.  It turns out she has cancer and has between two weeks and two months to live and we have most likely said our last goodbyes.  My parents are making her last time on earth as comfortable as possible, feeding her anything she wants (she loves ham and eggs) and loving on her a lot.  She just 8 years old so we feel a bit robbed of time with her but Jeff and I are glad we had two months living at my parent’s house to spend time with her.

So, it turns out I’m not very sensitive about people, but show me a sick dog and I’ll cry my eyes out.  Maybe there are dog cults?

The Mile High Stair, The Back Porch River and Phat Tire (with a “Ph”)

After fending off mosquitoes, we high tailed it to Denver, where we met with Ashleigh’s childhood friend Scotty P. for lunch. He took us through the city from his house, which gave us a good feel for it. We had not surprisingly decided on Mexican for lunch, and Scotty took us to his favorite place for this type of cuisine. His fiancé Erin met up with us as soon as she was out of class. Ash and Scotty got a chance to catch up, and Erin and I had a nice discussion about literature classics. Eventually, the conversation got around to Jack Kerouac, and On the Road. I asked them if they knew where Jack and Neil Cassidy (Sal and Dean, I guess) hung out as described in the book.

“Sure, I’ll take you by it,” Scotty said as Erin grimaced “although it’s not the best part of town”. From Erin’s reaction, I could tell it was not one of her favorite places in town, but I am a nerd, and had to see it. After lunch, we drove past the Capitol building with a shining gold dome. Scotty pointed out that on one of the steps leading to the building, there is a marker that indicates the pedestrian is exactly one mile high above sea level. Soon, we were on the strip of bars that appear in Jack’s book. Although I can see comparatively, that it is not the best part of town, but there was a line of fantastic dive bars in a row, so I loved it.

Scotty P. took us on an in-depth tour around town. His knowledge of the city was vast, considering his three-year residency, but Erin is from Denver originally, this may have added some tales and lore along the way.

After Denver, we headed up to Estes Park to visit with eight Tulsa friends that were staying in a cabin. We met in the town of Estes Park, which is home to the Stanley Hotel, which was the inspiration (and the birthplace of the story) of Stephen King’s “The Shining”. I normally wouldn’t run if I saw Jack Nicholson walking down the street, but by damn, this is different.

We met all the guys at an Italian restaurant, where we got a chance to catch up. It was very jovial and the food was delicious. They told me of the night before, where they bombarded a small bar’s open mic night. They were pretty much all musicians, so the combined bands basically played an entire show.

Once again the term “cabin” is very different from what Ash and I expected. The place was ritzy. One of the bathrooms even had a small flat screen TV over the sinks. But the best part was that a river ran about 10 feet from the back porch. We loaded all ten of us into the van they had rented and watched the sunset next to a pond. After the sunset, we moved on to an area that was great for stargazing. After an hour or so, we decided it would be best to move to the top of the mountain, where there is less light pollution. As we drove to the top of the mountain, we listened to Grandaddy’s “Software Slump”, which was eerie with no light outside and blindly climbing up. The stars were so clear and beautiful from way up on top of the mountain.

Afterwards, we went back to cabin and joked and talked. It felt like the old days, where we basically try to one-up each other on getting laughs. After a few drinks, it was good to see a couple of the gentlemen argue politics and religion as they used to frequently back in Tulsa. Some things never change, and just feel like home.

After about 4 hours of sleep, it was time to wake up to make it to the New Belgium Brewing company, where we took the tour. There was not much about the tour that was all that exciting, but those people sure do know how to make a fine fine beer. We unfortunately skipped the tasting afterwards (due to the drive ahead) and said our goodbyes from there to the Tulsa gang.

Now it was time to move a bit further West into the redness. As Gary Busey said in Point Break, “Utah! Make it two!”

We Just Left Kansas, Toto

*Transcribed from audio recording made Tuesday, July 21st*

"Okay, so it seems the mosquitoes have it in for us. 

After driving hours through Kansas from the Redlands in a landscape that can only be described as 'flat', we have apparently entered Colorado. This happened without my knowledge. The scene driving to our campground  just shy of Limon is Colorado cleverly disguised as Kansas. After arriving in our first attempted campsite, Ashleigh could find nothing in the town to eat that didn't contain gluten. It didn't help at all that the only grocery store in town was closed... On a Tuesday, at 7 o' clock... Then after seeing that the tent camping area of out 'campground' {*On recording, audible moving of the arms to make air quotes}, we decided to bail. The grassy area was hardly 15' x 25', and was surrounded by parked Mack trucks, which would be blowing exhaust into our tent the entire night. And the proverbial 'cherry on top' was that the restrooms were unavailable after 9:30 pm.

We hopped back onto I-70 and decided the grass was greener the further we got from that dump. About 18 miles down the way, we found a nice looking RV park that was tent-friendly. The lady at the front desk was ridiculously nice, even making sure we were prepared for a buggy season.

'You all have some bug spray right? The skeeters are bad at this time'. As she led us outside to show us the camp area, each appendage on both of our bodies was covered in mosquitos. I wiped the mosquito beard from Ashleigh's chin, we said our thanks, and ran for cover.

The tent set up was luckily fast enough, but now we are held captive by the blood suckers. I am currently armed only with a shotgun, a flashlight and a prayer. Soaking buck shot in deet is taking far longer than expected. I estimate that 30 minutes from now, I will have enough shells to really show these bastards who's boss. 

Onward and upward to Denver and Estes Park tomorrow, where they with a bit of luck, won't be able to follow..."

Redlands, Red Skies and Johnnie Walker Red

After a quick hours drive from Tulsa, we ended up in Stillwater, Oklahoma. We were excited to see the rustic cabin that Scott Rouse (some of you may know him as the best man from the wedding) was living in. What this cabin ended up being was a really nice, roomy house. Sure, it was rustic, but it fit Scotty's style perfectly. After his living in a tipi in Austin, a place with air conditioning was a bit of a shock.

We were greeted on his front porch by his awesome new pup named Koda. Surprise surprise, Koda took to Ashleigh in no time.

We sat at the kitchen table and discussed the great American west. Scott, being an outdoorsy fellow, was chock full of knowledge of trails, routes, and parks that we should check out. I always trust his opinion fully, but it was really solidified when he pointed out some of the destinations illustrated as posters hanging all over the cabin. As we talked, Neil Young's Harvest Moon played in the background I sipped on a nice cold glass of Johnnie Walker Red Label, and Ash could barely keep her hands off of Koda.

Scott led us around the perimeter of the Redlands camp ground. Pointing out some of the ropes courses along the way, which were incredibly impressive. After going around the entire perimeter to get our bearings, we ended up at the lake, where there was a dock to dive off of. We had to take advantage.

Koda was less interested in fetching the toy Scott brought, and more interested in swimming to the nearest person, then climbing on our backs. He did a pretty mean impression of a backpack.
Afterwards, we hopped into the bed of Scott's truck and drove halfway (and walked the rest of the way) to a field that he watches the sunset every night. If you've never seen a sunset in Oklahoma, take it from me, there is a reason he does this every night.

The field had a look of a Parisian or an Italian countryside. There were times when the conversation would wane, and we would sit in a fitting silence. We sat there for a while after what Scott calls "phase 2", in which the sun has set, but the clouds still reflect beautiful colors. Afterwards, Scott cooked us a fantastic meal of chick pea curry over brown rice, and a nice salad garnished with one of Ash's famous dressings.

Once the dishes were all done, we sat out on his deck, which he built after tearing out a room in the cabin. As we talked, we watched lightning crawl horizontally across the sky. I can't remember the last time I saw lightning that lasted as long as these bolts. They would stretch forever, past the tree lines. Ashleigh went to bed and snuggled with Koda, as Scott and I stayed up until the wee hours. Once we started to hear thunder, that was the signal the storm was close enough to close up for the night.

Nephews, nachos, and the loosening of the buckle of the Bible belt.

Step aside David Cook. Put down the microphone, stop that trilling crap everyone on Idol does, and for God's sake, take your finger off your ear when you hit "powerful" notes. Make way for Tulsa's next rock stars:
That's right. My nephews. They are such rock stars, that even Cowell would have to leave the attitude at the studio door. That is Nathan holding little Calvin. Calvin is a VERY recent addition to the world, so I may have to wait a few weeks before teaching him the solo to Stairway to Heaven. Nathan will begin a strict regiment of playing Led Zep tunes beginning tomorrow, and the lessons will continue until they play Tulsa's new BOK center. Paul McCartney is playing there in a few weeks, so I'll be on the horn this week with him about my nephews' opening up the show.

To my surprise, Tulsa is still Tulsa. Although the changes are very noticeable, and there seems to be a lot more of an Austin TX vibe going on there, it is still the same home I grew up in. We ate a lot of fast food (much to Ashleigh's dismay, but those are my only chances), hung out with my family, and got a chance to go downtown for an evening. We got a chance to go fishing with my bro-in-law Todd, and little Nathan. Nate held his arms out to describe the size of this fish as being about 2 feet long. This picture pushes that theory, but it's just the angle. We did, however, catch about 10 fish.
Ahhh...Bueno. Mui Bueno. And St. Moad.
Here's my mom with Ash, myself and the rock stars.
We did get a chance to go golfing as well. The weather was surprisingly nice considering it's mid-July. Ash hit a golf ball down the fairway, and it rolled directly over a walking path bridge that crossed a water hazard. It was sweet. And could never be recreated. My dad, White Gold, was the most consistent on the course that day.

On Sunday, we had a bunch of family over. Aunts, uncles, cousins, dogs, lions, tigers... They were all there. We had a Thanksgiving-like feast, then we all nursed food-induced comas on the back porch. It was sunny, breezy and beautiful. My Aunt Mary Beth's puppy, Izzy and Nathan played together quite a bit. It was awesome. I think my sister was as pleased as Mary Beth that they helped wear each other out.
It seemed my family was all doing great.
Okay then. I've never heard of a record store having that kind of budget, but more power to you Mooch.