Vegas Left the Lights on for me

Bounce back to Vegas

Almost ten days had passed since I last visited our fine city. This trip was planned before the prior October one. A chill in the air, and cold, white stuff on the ground at my house can only mean one thing: Time to go to Vegas, baby.

Last month, a kindly, heavily-accented (not that there’s anything wrong with that) representative from Frontier Airlines informed me that I was four segments away from Elite Status on Frontier.

I know, I know.

For most people, being elite on Frontier is like being king of the turd pile, the lead fly buzzing around on the top of the turd world. For me, it has value. Free carry-on bag, zone 1 loading, free upgrade to stretch seating if it’s available, free confirmed standby free, and almost everything I get from Southwest for free, but with a much better beer selection on board. Well, usually.

I changed my upcoming flights on this trip from Southwest to Frontier based on his information. Yes, the fare IS cheaper on Frontier. Kind of. But it’s free on Southwest, because of points. (See the end of this post for a detailed discussion about flying for free.)

Copper Mountain. It's not really made of copper, though.

Wednesday night, I left work about 10:30 PM, slept a couple hours, then boom. Time to go. It was just me, the mountains, and a hundred smooth miles under a million stars in a black velvet sky driving over the passes. I’m a morning person, big time. But yeah, 3 am was pushing it.

I dropped my Momda off at Planet Honda on the western outskirts of Denver to have my snow tires put on, and fresh oil put in for all 180 horses. The Honda dealership offers something called Friends for Life where they do all your oil changes for free, and swap out your tires for the life of you, and/or the Honda you bought.

Dropped off the keys, the car, the snow tires, and my regular, well-regulated roles. See you on Monday! HELLO FREEDOM!!!

Royal Flusher's Daily Vegas Pic - Oct 31, 2017

Halloween in Vegas is a blast. (When isn't?) The mood is definitely strongest under the canopy downtown at the Fremont Street Experience, where you can spend hours just people-in-costume watching.

Check out a bunch of costumey pics:

Happy Royalween, 2015

Halloween in Vegas 2014

Then there was the time we let loose in Wynn with a couple of skunk costumes and a whoopee cushion.

Happy HalloWynn! Flarp!!

Royal Flusher's Daily Vegas Pic - Oct 30, 2017 - BEE ATTACK!!!

Vegas is an interesting town. Not just from the tourist slash gambling slash falling-down-drunk slash where's my wallet slash what just happened? perspective.

It's an interesting city, with all kinds of interesting city happenings. Like the time the Killer Swarm of Bees Attacked Las Vegas.

One fine evening, while relaxing in our room (broke), we flipped through the channels to find that the spaghetti bowl at I-15 and I-95 had been brought to a standstill by a bee attack of gargantuan proportions (the attack was gargantuan, not the bees individually).

Bees swarmed the intersection, mercilessly attacking the concrete abutments. Sadly, they had to be put down by emergency responders, under the direction of Ranger Smith.

It turned out that the bees (and some honey!) were on a truck, bound for the glorious almond groves of somewhere other than Nevada. The semi-trailer overturned, and, it being December, the bees huddled together to stay warm.

They were, of course, met with the deadly, searing spray of 'pink stuff' that the pros used to quell the attack.

The whole thing was something right out of an episode of the Simpsons, with the exception of Homer's car bursting into flames at some point.

"Now that's what you call a well run 'sting' operation." (shuffling of papers)

Las Vegas Sun - Millions of Bees Lost in Accident

Royal Flusher's Daily Vegas Pic - Oct 29, 2017 - Dawn Vegas

I've yammered on in other posts about when it's a good time to take outdoor shots of Vegas landmarks and neon.

(Pipe down, I know it's always a good time to take a picture in Vegas.)

The time I like to take shots is just after sundown, in Magic Time. Which is actually a pretty stupid name for sunset, but it certainly does make for good photography of the dazzling lights of the Strip or the Fremont Street Experience hotels.

I just found out there is another good time, thanks to this beautiful shot by Joan of Aces.

Yes, who know, who was ever up early enough to know (more to be those up late enough to know)... that there is a second sunset in Las Vegas.

No goddamn wonder this place is so special! In fact, I think they could ditch that happens here stays here thing and come up with a brand new marketing catchphrase:

Las Vegas - We Have Two Sunsets
So come here and gamble your money away, there's plenty to see after!

Royal Flusher's Daily Vegas Pic - Oct 28, 2017 - Hogs 'n Heifers

 

A hog in front of Hogs n Heifers.

Hog's n Heifers Saloon is just a block from Fremont Street, and, more obviously, across the road from the Downtown Grand.

I'm not sure if its a genuine biker bar, a tourist bar, or a biker tourist bar, but the place has a reputation for a loud and good time, and bartenders that kick ass and dance on the bar.

Not too bad-ass for some neon, though

Hogs get full marks for being slang for a huge Harley with straight pipes. In real life, a heifer is a young cow with no offspring.

Maybe not as alluring as a shiny-chrome bike on the open road.

Royal Flusher's Daily Vegas Pic - Oct 27, 2017 - Luxor Models

It seems like nobody knows how to crank out the glossy advertising images better than Las Vegas. But those shots of perfect pool-side sun-kissed lithe bodies and happiest, best dressed gamblers you've ever seen don't just happen by accident.

No, those are models. They aren't real people.

You see, there are folks who actually make money at posing for photographs. They are usually very good looking, and know how to look fake-ecstatic on command.

One day at Luxor, I got to witness the making of a fantasy, watching them shoot some photos of the jolliest goddamn craps players you've ever seen.

Royal Flusher's Daily Vegas Pic - Oct 26, 2017 - Dealt Hand

There's an old saying about if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

And there's another old saying if a penny player were a dollar player, this would have been a hit for $40,000 bucks instead of $40 $400 by hitting this sweet dealt straight flush hand.

The downside, of course, is that it would take $500 a pull on a marginal paytabled 100 play machine at the Four Queens.

I suppose there are a few high rollers out there that could fade that kind of action on 100 play, but not me. It's still a pretty hand to look at.

And, as I might have said at the time, "Great, more points to play with now."

Thinking of it another way, though, there is a really, really old saying that goes If a dealt straight flush had been dealt four pointies on Super Double Bonus 100 play pennies, you'd actually have some real money.

Like.... $800 instead of $400. Aces pay 800 credits.

But there's yet another saying that goes If you'd only gotten a dealt Royal, you dumb fuck, that would be worth something.

A penny royal is 4000 pennies, or $40. Ring up 100 of those and you are looking at genuine real money - $4000. Kind of a long shot but it is possible.

Royal.... heeeheeeeeee you big stupid twit. 40,000 pennies is $400. You can't do math for shit!

40,000 penny is $400 not $40. I fix your stupid post.

Jimmy Poon.

Royal Flusher's Daily Vegas Pic - Oct 25, 2017 - Fitzgerald's, The D, and the Legs

It was tall. It was green. It was Irish. And it didn't have any legs.

That was Fitzgerald's and just as I was getting to know it, it vanished and was reborn like a one-lettered Phoenix as The D.

The F. Before it became The D.

And they put those upside down legs on there.

Did you ever take a moment to wonder what the rest of the woman that owns those legs was doing when that picture was taken?

Well I happen to know.

Sunday Summit Sum Up

Leaving Uncle Derek looking so snazzy in his custom jacket was a challenge.  But then I saw this guy on Fremont, and I knew Saturday night could go on without me. I went to bed.

He must've been a Boy Scout, because this dude was prepared

Sunday morning, the Vegas Nerd Society Summit started with me finding my way to Boar’s Head for a wee bit of pre-run poker, video style. Drank my LapItUp coffee, ate half a free donut, and acquiesced to just a smidge of Rumchata in my coffee. Cashed out up $150, and zipped out the north doors to meet up with a good friend. Time for a sunrise run with a Sunrise ER nurse.

Derek Stevens is awesome

We zoomed out to the Wetlands, which sounds a little like a Springsteen album in his much, MUCH later years. If you want to find it, take the Boulder Highway until it meets up with Tropicana, and go east. The course was a winding, paved path through actual green wetlands, with a bridge or two. It was a little short for me, just under 3 miles. But then again, sometimes who you run with is way more important than how far, or how hard. I neglected to get a single photo of the Wetlands, the convertible, or the beautiful pink hues in the underbelly of wispy clouds that morning. I blame the Rumchata. That’s what Rumchata is for.

Gambling with Gordie

Quick break from the Vegas Nerds Summit trip for a little history. I have already written up my side of the day Joan of Aces and I met Ginger from Tulsa, and later pissed off a table full of senior Hawaiian quintuplet great grandfathers. And one very surly dealer.

That blackjack session led to the conversation that led to Joan of Aces jumpin' into the Flusherville pool and writing some of her adventures for us to enjoy.

Just for a quick change of pace from the Nerds Summit report, here's a jump back to Joan's accounting of that day, from her September trip, before we continue with the Vegas Nerds Summit trip report.

R.F.

The call of the open road. It has nothing on the Call of the Open Seat.

Especially if that seat is at Boar’s Head bar, at Main Street Station, in front of an ever-enticing VP machine, in front of several handles of their in-house home brew, in front of a giant bronze boar statue that came all the way from France. In case you are the last to know, their Jacks or Better VP has an excellent 9/6 paytable, even at the quarter level. They are practically paying you to partake in their fine libations. That’s my favorite J O B of all. His highness, the Royal Flusher, and I made a plan to meet up, hoping for a couple of open seats next to each other.

There’s only three problems when it comes to me making plans in Vegas:

In Vegas, I don’t always know what day it is, much less what time. Or even what time of day it is. Or where I am, exactly. Or generally. Or what name I’m going by today.

Vegas happens. When you have no plans, anything can, and does happen. Any day in Vegas: Oh look! Shiny! Wander off.. Repeat. All day long.

I’m Vegas Unreliable. Like many people,I am exactly the opposite of the person I am back home when I’m in Vegas. In my everyday life, everyone can count on me, every day. And does. I am living, breathing Responsibility. Always. In Vegas? Not even close. Heck, I’d already invited our hero RF out to breakfast and forgot to pay. I could have. I have points, too, but, alas. Shiny! If Vegas has taught me one thing, it’s when fate smiles upon you, just say “yes” and “thank you”. Return the favor when the opportunity arises. (You’re right. That’s two things. Vegas definitely did not teach me how to count.)

For me, the only thing better than no plans is cancelled plans. But even my Vegas “brain” knew I shouldn’t miss the chance for a front row seat at the Royal Flusher Show at one of my favorite venues.

There were, in fact, two spots open. I took a seat. Flushiepants is tall and mighty, so he stood. It’s probably a celebrity thing. A woman was sitting next to him. What happened next was a little surreal, and Flushiepants himself captured it exactly in his post The Jumbleberry Conspiracy -or- Flusher Surprise. She hit a straight flush. She turned to RF and said, “well, you know, in the strict rules of parlay, I have to increase my bet.”

Pretty crazy when someone repeats your words echoing around in cyberspace to you, verbatim. I think Flushie paused for just a second before he revealed his identity to her. I don’t think she believed him. Until he pulled out one of his razor-edged, signature purple Royal Flusher cards from a stack in his wallet, and handed it to her.

Sunny Saturday in Vegas

The good run continued. As I left MGM, my belly felt beerless and apprehensive as the site of the Route 91 Harvest approached. Mandalay Bay sparkled ahead in the morning sun. The warm desert sun glinted of the golden windows. Well, all but two of the windows.

The sun somehow still rises at Mandalay Bay

In front of the Route 91 Harvest venue, the banner still hung between two palms trees, the fathomless blue sky behind it.

Route 91 

Las Vegas police cars and yellow crime scene tape blocked the sidewalk in front of it. At the famous Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas sign, 58 wooden crosses, each one bearing the name of a person who died the night of Oct. 1 from the shooting rampage, stood in a wavy line, just past the sign, facing toward the strip.

Jose, Can You See Me at Boar's Head?

Unless you happen to have a Golden Retriever, there's no warmer "welcome home!" reception than from one Mr. Internet Famous Jose, bartender extraordinaire at the Main Street Station Boar's Head Bar.

Word was getting out about this beautiful little wonder, because there almost every seat with a VP machine in front of it was taken. There aren't any old bartop machines. These are full pay, 9/6 Jacks or Better at the quarter level VP.

My friend found a couple of coveted spots, side by side, and we settled in, the smooth marble bar cool and refreshing under our forearms. The giant fern leaf fans rotated slowly overhead from the high ceilings. Jose's glorious countenance appeared in front of me, his broad smile like the sun.

"My friend!" he exclaimed! "Welcome back!"

He extended his hand for a warm, familiar handshake as he did every time. And as he does countless times a night, to so many of us. Robert called out and waved from behind the bar. He used to live where I live, which is a place that is a bit obscure. We caught up a bit while he somehow kept up with everyone's orders.

Indeed, it felt great to be back. It was my first return trip to Main Street since the shootings two weeks earlier. Jose said he was doing OK, but other friends weren't so lucky. One cocktail server had not been able to return to work yet. She had been at the Route 91 concert, and everyone around her had taken a bullet. Some died.

I hope she is able to get some financial assistance from the emergency fund. If you're not at work as a cocktail server, you're probably not getting paid. Anything. At all. But she wasn't injured, so would she qualify?

I doubled down on my intention to tip everyone especially well this trip. A sign at the airport summed it up perfectly with these words behind a simple drawing of the Vegas skyline: "We've been there for during the good times. Thank you for being there for us now. #VegasStrong".

Things That Go Bump in the Nerd

Let's extend a big Flusherville welcome to guest blogger Joan of Aces!
She's a great writer and I can't wait to read all about her Nerd Herd trip to Las Vegas.
R.F.

This past weekend featured the annual Nerd Herd migration to the Promised Land, aka, The Summit.

I wasn't going to go.

I was going to be good, and stay home, and follow along on the InstaTwitBook. I was just in Vegas a few weeks ago. I should stay home.

But no. Why pretend I can resist?

The Summit, presented by the Vegas Nerd Society, http://www.vegasinternetmafia.com, is a gathering of Vegas-obsessed, super-aficionados who faithfully generally tune in to the same Vegas podcasts and blogs, week after week, year after year, to live Vegas vicariously. The same weekend used to be called VIMFP (Vegas Internet Mafia Family Picnic, or depending on your blood level of creative juices: Vegas is My Favorite Place, or V I Mother F'ing P). It's a fast few days of silly plans with like-minded people with one thing in common. OK, two things in common: a true devotion to all things Vegas, and nothing better to do with their lives on a beautiful October weekend in the middle of football season.

I LOVE that United is using this massive photo of the Denver Broncos defense, aka "The No Fly Zone", for their Denver Airport advertising.  So apropos.  Heh. 

I had an easy drive to the DOA, err, DIA, airport. People familiar with Denver will know that as often happens, there wasn’t any parking at the actual airport. All full. Everybody is going somewhere else this weekend. I followed the signs and found a spot in Western Kansas, hopped a shuttle so crowded it may as well have been an elevator out of the MLife playbook.

I had extra time for a drink next to our gate. Turns out the other four people in the bar at 10 am were also Vegas-bound. But, of course. Nobody flying to Boston this early is sucking down suds for breakfast. Oh no, not a chance. (They are quietly draining their little TSA-compliant bottles in the privacy of a public bathroom stall, like the classy folk who plan ahead do.) We are toasting each other, our new-found flight friends.

Royal Flusher's Daily Vegas Pic - Oct 16, 2017 - Stardust Wayne Newton

What says Classic Vegas better than glowing neon touting Wayne Newton playing the Stardust?

I only ever played in the Stardust one time, which turns out to be a big mistake on my part, as it was shortly thereafter reduced to rubble in one of the biggest corporate miscalculations Vegas has ever seen.

The Stardust was loaded with history, and great video poker. The property was dated, though (just like Wayne Newton) and the owners, Boyd Gaming, decided it would be a smart thing to blow up a profit-making casino and put up a brand new multi-billion dollar mega-resort.

With the Stardust obliterated to nothing but dust, a few stories of concrete parking garage were put up just as the Great Recession of 2007-2008 hit.

Boyd was left holding the bag full of star dust. Construction was halted. A working casino was gone. A few hundred million dollars were lost.

Not only was the Stardust a victim, we also lost the Westward Ho, and Boyd sold the Barbary Coast, which was remodeled into the Abominationwell Cromwell.

Royal Flushers Daily Vegas Pic - Oct 15, 2017 - Boardwalk Casino

The good ole Boardwalk Casino, which was somehow connected to a Holiday Inn, had the distinction of having the most unsafe roller coaster west of the Mississippi.

Back in the 1990s, Vegas was still known as a bargain destination. You could stay on the strip, and eat cheaper than you could almost anywhere else. Graveyard specials were everywhere.

And, this little gem of a shithole, which sat on where City Center is now, north of Tropicana and Las Vegas Blvd., featured a super cheap buffet.

And the neophyte Flusher, who wanted to experience cheap things just for the experience of being able to experience cheap things, ate a meal at the 24 hour Surf Buffet for about $2.99 and subsequently had food poisoning for the next two days.

Mrs. Flusher was smarter - she gambled while I doomed myself ate.

The Boardwalk Casino was demolished in 2006.

Just down the street is a casino that features a real roller coaster - New York New York.

Royal Flushers Daily Vegas Pic - Oct 14, 2017 - Caesars Palace

Caesars Palace, originally opened in 1966, was the first truly themed casino hotel in Las Vegas. The apostrophe (Caesar's) was purposefully left out - this would be a place where everyone would be treated like a Caesar - thus a palace of Caesars.

I'd like to drink a Caesar having successfully waded through that explanation.

The original property was quite small compared to the behemoth that Caesars is now. It's undergone addition after addition, renovation after renovation.

And key parts of the original property, such as Circus Maximus, its fabulous showroom, are long gone.

But this part - is not. This round room, its ceiling dripping with crystal chandelier pendants, is the original Caesars casino.

Joan of Aces

Sometimes meeting strangers brings big dividends. I screwed up my courage and put my Flushie-Bigboy-pants on during this trip and met a couple of new people, and it worked out really well.

You probably read about Ginger, and how I got to surprise her after she started talking about the Strict Rules of Parlay.

As if that wasn't enough, I also met the fabulous Joan of Aces.

One way or another, Joan and I ended up at a blackjack table at the California Hotel and Casino, one of the ones on the sports book side of the house, facing the cage. Drink service was good that night, the table was full, and the dealer was quirky.

JoA and I bought in at a full table, and started playing, and talking. I was at second base, and Joan at shortstop. The rest of the table was made up of quintuplets - five identical 78 year old Hawaiian guys, thin, grey, quiet, wearing light blue short-sleeved shirts, three pounds of papers, pens and gear in their breast pocket, playing green chips very methodically.

Photo unrelated to the content of this post. So sue me.

We hit it off incredibly well, (Joan and I, not the quintuplets and I - oh no...) and before long the entire table was annoyed with us. For them, it was like when you are sick and feverish in a hotel room, and trying to sleep, six other people in the room talk drunk shit at top volume, jiggling the bed, and laughing their heads off.

Robert Irvine's Public House - Royal Flusher Restaurant Review

I was glad to have a chance to check out Robert Irvine's Public House at the Tropicana - it had been under construction for sooo long and I'm always interested in seeing what comes out of those yellow tape areas and temporary drywall dividers.

The full review of Robert Irvine's Public House is here.

Robert Irvine's Public House, right off the casino floor at the Tropicana.

If I had sat at the bar, perhaps someone would have read to me in my high chair.

Robert Irvine's Public House
At the Tropicana Las Vegas
3801 S Las Vegas Blvd, Las Vegas, NV

A special thank-you goes out to the Tropicana Las Vegas for their compassionate service to the many victims of the tragic mass shooting of Oct 2, 2017 that sheltered there.

Another Day, Another Chance

About two weeks ago I walked along the east side of Las Vegas Boulevard between Mandalay Bay and the Tropicana, beside an mostly empty lot that had been used for various gatherings from time to time.

I felt happy, aloof, enjoying the night, free and safe. A few others walked the same route, some ahead, some behind, all drinks, laughs, phones and photos.

Last Sunday night some 22,000 people became random targets in that very same place. Many people died and many more people were shattered. And that many more again family members had their love, faith, and believe in a good life shattered as well.

Those of us that are media bystanders to these events won't suffer the way those physically affected by this tragedy have and will. But we've lost something too, and many of us are affected in profound ways.

Some are defiant in resolve to go to Las Vegas anyway. Some are reluctant, shaken. They've cancelled plans, at least for now.

Right now, Vegas is not what it was. And we wonder if it will ever be again.

This blog has been a place that mirrors the joy I feel in Las Vegas, 98% silliness, celebration, frivolity, and 2% reflection and trying to find meaning in some of the perplexing parts of the whole experience.

I wonder how can I be that happy Vegas guy again, making light of everything including myself, spinning words out of control just for the fun of it.

I even wonder if I should.

How guilty would I feel to be enjoying a party in a place that has become a killing floor? How dare I?

I wonder how those who were lost would feel about my living in celebration and debauchery. If it were me, I know what the answer would be.

Live, and be happy, or the madman wins.

In life, people pursuit, more than anything, happiness. It is no mistake that some wise men included the 'pursuit of happiness' as a basic human right in the Declaration of Independence of the United States.

Not all of us are very good at finding it, and some of us would seem to have had the promise, the right, ripped away in a torrent of bullets.

Today is full of sadness and shock and horror. But like the day, these things will pass into night. And it is assured that the sun will rise again, providing light, and at the very least, hope of the smallest of new beginnings - another day, another chance to be happy.

Until then, we grieve, we comfort, we move step by step through the fog of the day. We wonder how it could happen, and where our beloved Las Vegas has gone.

I am far from wanting to attempt to pick up where I left off. But I noticed something in the days since the shooting. People still came to the blog. People still read posts. They read about gambling and hot dogs and dumb mistakes and music and high hopes and long shots and friends and laughter. And I have been puzzled how they could want to still experience that view of Vegas in light of what has happened.

Maybe they are choosing to be happy for just a few minutes. Maybe they need to laugh, because if you don't laugh, you'll cry. Maybe they need the distraction.

So, when my sun comes up, eventually, it would seem that I have a part to play in all of this, and that carrying on has value. More so to myself than anyone. I must choose to be happy. The alternative is too dark, too lonely, too deadly.

Live today. Love today. Help someone who needs it. And someday, choose to be happy. May your sun rise again.