Our first full day in Vegas. One of the ways we economize is to bring half a dozen bagels and a box of cereal with us. You can get a pint of milk 24 hours a day in Sobek's Sundries. Often a bowl of cereal is all I want to start my day, that and coffee in the Casino, of course.
International Grounds at one end of the lobby makes a fine, if pricey cappuccino.
One of the reasons we've stayed at Luxor four times, is the spaciousness of the Casino. Its large, uncrowded, and there are many quiet areas where you can spend some very pleasant time especially in the morning.
In the evening, it cooks with excitement, just like any of the carpet joints do!
We especially like this bank of quarter Bonus VP machines off the lobby, beside a fairly high artificial waterfall. The sound of the water makes it very relaxing.
The 'quiet area' as we called it. You can just kind of make out the waterfall wall in the background.
Played some nickel VP and some quarter slots. Not much happening, except slow losses. Over to Excalibur. Lost $10 at roulette.
At noon, we entered the Jingle Bucks slot tournament. The entry fee is $5.00. We didn't do too well. The key is to hit numerous 7-7-7s. Ate lunch at the buffet there. Its pretty good considering the price.
Played their nickel doubling VP (where you can bet double or nothing on your winnings - you pick which one of four cards will beat the dealers Ace).
We played this doubling game at Excalibur and at Treasure Island quite a bit and noticed the dealer gets an awful lot of high cards. It seems like it might be rigged. What are the odds of four consecutive Aces for the dealer, on two machines side by side? (one in 13 x 13 x 13 x 13 = 1 in 28561) It happened, and Kings and Aces seem to pop up quite often on certain machines - way more often than they should. It seemed that every time we were doubling a significant amount, a king or ace would show for the dealer. It just didn't seem random. The end machines at TI seemed correct however...
Generally I trust the games in Vegas to be within the parameters set forward by the Nevada Gaming Commision, but this one truly seemed like it might be 'not playing properly'. Beware.
Back to Luxor after buying cokes at the AM PM gas station / convenience store out on the strip between Excalibur and Luxor.
They say you can get anything in Vegas - why the hell can't I get a coke in Luxor? These stupid soft drink contracts they sign are stupid. They sign with Pepsi and you can't get any other soft drink products in the hotel. Even the McDonalds in the Luxor food court has only Pepsi. The pictures of the meal deals have the drink cups blacked out with the word 'Cola' on them.
Played some nickel VP and some quarter VP after Karen started out with 3 quarters and won enough to play a bit. She hit 4 10s for 125 and then a full house for 45 more. Shortly after I hit 4 Aces on Double Double bonus for 800 nickels. Fun!
Sobek's Sundries was one of the last hold-outs of the old themed Luxor. It was remodeled at some point, but existed up until just a couple of years ago.
Sobek's Sundries around 2015. The counter used to be on the right.
It was just a handy little 24 hour convenience store. I don't think anything much is open 24 hours in Luxor anymore.
I have fond memories of ducking into Sobek's, and it was there that I got my very first comp. We were in line to buy a couple of drinks or something and in front of me was a Luxor executive of some ilk. We'd eaten at the buffet previously and I struck up a conversation with him, workin' him a bit, finessing him a bit.
I blurted all kinds of things including that we were there on our anniversary or for a birthday or something. Without saying too much more, the guy whipped out a little pad and started to write on it.
He handed me the paper and said, "Enjoy your stay, and avoid the buffet."
The paper was a hand-written comp for the Pyramid Cafe. It included two of everything - two rounds of drinks, two appetizers, two mains, and two desserts! Holy crap, I couldn't believe my eyes, but my eyes were not lying to me, they were just rolling around a bit and transmitting visual images of this golden food ticket to my brain. Eyes for the win!
Well, that evening we ate like Pharoahs. I forget the appetizers but we both had filet mignon as I recall. And the drinks. And the desserts. Coffee shop was really a misnomer in those days, you could get as fine a meal as you wanted, for the most part.
I didn't know it at the time, but the comp door was opening for us in a big way, as you'll see.
International Grounds was where the Starbuck's in the lobby is now.
Under where the escalators are now that lead from the lobby up to the upper level at Luxor was a fake waterfall. The machines there were 8./5 Bonus Poker and we spent many, many hours there. It was a little out of the way, and the sound of the waterfall masked all the other noises. It was bliss. We loved it there so much! Eventually, the machines got moved away, and they decided to remove the waterfall.
Progress, I guess.
By the way, in those days, the casino floor was jammed with machines. Table games were in the center of the casino, and all around the rest of it were slots like you wouldn't believe. Upright reel slots and some slant tops too. But I remember wandering up and down aisles of those uprights. Wild Cherry. Red White and Blue. Jackpot Jungle.
Seating for those were padded stools and the inside of my thighs would get sore from sliding on and off them 200 times a day as I looked for that lucky machine.
You still can't get the soft drink you want in Vegas. The beginning of the end!
Welcome to the Vintage 1997 Royal Flusher and Quad Queen Trip Report.
This goes back to a time when we were just starting to figure Las Vegas out. Over the last thirty years or so, things have changed. Boy have they changed.
This was written before Royal Flusher was a fully-developed idiot, the ne'er-do-well with a heart of cash that you've gotten to know and hopefully love. The writing style is very basic and to-the-point. As we go, I'll include some additional content with the 1997 narrative - observations, and more importantly, things I remember from that time. You'll note that the roots of my cheap bastard room camping style are in their infancy, but are there nonetheless.
There aren't that many photos for this trip report. We had some kind of crappy point and shoot plastic camera with a flash that took 35mm film. It's not like today when you take 19 photos of a piece of toast with your phone just to get the right shot to post on Facebook.
The good news is, I was able to find the negatives for what I do have. I bought a pricy scanner to scan them in, and I'm also hoping I can find other slides and negatives from the early days (maybe our first trip ever in 1995?) and share them.
In 1997, Vegas was in transition. The roots of modern casinos go back into the 50s and 60s when things were done a certain way. Las Vegas was a value destination and the competition for gamblers was fierce, with incentives, giveaways, funbooks full of gambling coupons and 2-4-1s, food deals, cheap rooms the likes of which we'll never see again.
Starting with the building of Caesars Palace, places started to get bigger and become true resorts. A flurry of building in the late 80s and early 90s, kicked off with the Mirage, brought all kinds of new themed mega-hotels. New York New York. Excalibur. Luxor. MGM Grand in it's current form. Treasure Island.
But the traditions and trappings of 50s and 60s Vegas were still there. Almost every place had a buffet, and every place did have a coffee shop - 24 hour catch-all restaurant with a broad menu of good, cheap food. Live Keno featuring Keno runners was everywhere and the coffee shop often had it's own Keno game. The runner would circulate between each game, selling tickets, making payoffs and so on. Machines took coins, and beautiful women with Olympic-grade calves pushed carts of rolls of coins around the casino.
Parking everywhere was free. Hell, valet parking was free! These places wanted you! Shows leaned more towards headliners. Cirque du Soleil would change that. Slot clubs were fairly new but had taken hold and would change how room offers and comps were handled.
So in Luxor, in 1997, we found full pay video poker, cheap rooms, and value everywhere. Little did we know what the consolidation of the strip into mainly two giant conglomerates would do to take the heart out of the Strip. But for now, it was still pretty magical.
Trip Report - Las Vegas - Luxor Dec. 2 1997 to Dec. 10 1997
Executive Summary:
Don't fly American Airlines
Luxor's Slot Club SUCKS
Treasure Island's Slot Club RULES
Keep your Eyes Peeled and Find Free Cash!
Check for conventions before you book Vegas.
We Lost Money
We Won Some Money
Day 1 Tuesday Dec. 2, 1997
This was our fifth and so far, our best trip to Las Vegas. We left in the afternoon for a 2 hour drive to the nearest large airport and had an uneventful trip to Vegas, with a brief stop in O'Hare to change planes. After a long day of anticipation we arrived landed at McCarran. The cab driver took the south route through the tunnel to get to Luxor. This is the long route according to other cab drivers we later encountered.
Instead of going north and then west on Tropicana, they take you way south, along the tunnel, and then over to the strip. There wasn't much traffic so the bill was reasonable, but if you are going to the four corners (MGM / NYNY / Excalibur / Tropicana) you might want to specify the Tropicana route.
We checked in, got our safety deposit box. The clerk told stories of gamblers checking in with briefcases full of cash, which they stash in the safety deposit boxes. We had a vest pocket full of traveler's cheques instead of suitcases full of money. We trucked our suitcases up to the west tower, found our room and dropped them off.
We prefer the tower rooms to the pyramid rooms. They are larger, and have nicer bathrooms with tub and shower. And, there's something unsettling about knowing there's nothing underneath you if you are 10 or 20 floors up in the pyramid...
The Quad Queen in the room at Luxor with a stash of coin cups. Open your eyes, you're in Vegas!
Finally we were ready to hit the Casino. We started out on nickel Video Poker and Karen played 6 or 7 hands on her first 5 nickels. On the second 5 nickels in, she hit four Jacks for 400 nickels. A really nice way to start the trip. We played for a while, and tried some quarter VP as well, without too much luck.
The inside of a Luxor tower elevator. Theming was everywhere. These panels lasted for decades.
Luxor has an unadvertised special in the Pyramid Cafe (where we have enjoyed many nice meals). The steak and eggs is a deal at $2.99 after 11:00 pm. There is also a Prime Rib special for $4.99.
Played some dollar slots and didn't win a thing. Then tried to parlay bets on a BJ machine - start with one, and keep betting all the winnings. I turned 8 quarters into 20, and then 1 quarter into 16. It was fun, but won't make me rich.
It looks like we drove from Flusherville to Ottawa, catching a flight to Chicago, and connecting to Vegas.
Yes, we got tunneled from the airport. It took a couple of decades and the disruptive growth of Uber and Lyft, but fixed fares to the strip finally ended that nonsense.
Luxor in those days was Egyptian themed from top to bottom, and a set of I think three different shows you could go to tied into the features on the Attractions level.
One time we saw some folks repairing Egyptian hieroglyphs - they had molds into which they poured fiberglass or resin, making panels that looked like stone but were light and thin. Presumably that's what was in the elevators.
Cocktail waitresses and other casino workers were in costumes that reflected the theming. It was great.
There was a sort of unwritten rule back in those days that on Saturday night, you dressed up a little bit. There was a noticeable difference in how people looked, going out for a fancy dinner, or maybe drinks or something.
Coin cups were everywhere as all the machines ran on coins. Bill acceptors had started to become commonplace, but they still dumped out the greasy little metal disks when you cashed out. Your hands would get filthy, but there was always bins of wipes available at the cage where you cashed in your goods.
We had a habit, if we happened to win at the end of the night, to just take our coins to the room. There was something wonderful about the heft of them in your hands. You could run your fingers through them, dump them out, play with them, knowing the next day they'd be your starting stake.
In those days, we brought our funds with Traveler's cheques, which are pretty much extinct now. You paid for them up front, signed each one, and if you were smart, kept track of the serial numbers. To cash them, you had to show ID and replicate your signature on the front. The best advantage was that if you lost them or they were stolen, Karl Malden would show up at your hotel with a big nose and a fresh set of cheques.
Hotels had safety deposit boxes available at the front desk. Maybe they still do, but I think everyone relies on in-room safes now. I don't recall if the rooms had a safe back then.
Luxor's safety deposit boxes were (are?) at the north end of the desk, by the walkway to the East Tower and the washrooms. You presented your key, and went in behind the counter into a little room, they brought your box, and just like the bank, you put a half a dead salmon in there and returned it to the clerk.
Steak and Eggs $2.99. Not too shabby for a strip hotel.
I want to time travel back to 1997 so badly right now!
My sun went out the day the Quad Queen died. Five months later, it went out for real.
It's been quite a stretch of time since I last wrote a post, and I finally have a few things to say. Thank you all for your interest, caring, and support in the interim. I've heard from a lot of you in one way or another and appreciate it.
Since Karen passed away, life is a thumbnail sketch of what it used to be. The familiar shapes and motions are still there, but much of the time they seem transparent, and in black and white.
Sometimes I manage to get involved enough in something to feel joy for a while. Sometimes I feel motivated. Other times I am completely discombobulated.
Playing music with my friends was one of the best therapies. For a few hours at a time, my mind was completely on the music. Playing guitar, thinking of the next solo or chord change, singing, blending in. It was like a holiday from mental anguish.
Playing a gig with the Tragically Hips. Yes, we headlined at The Carport.
On the whole, throughout the winter, things slowly improved. Since returning home to Flusherville, I feel submerged again, coming back to the home Karen and the dogs and I shared for some 28 of our 36 year marriage.
Grieving is tough.
Since I've been out of touch, I might as well deal with things chronomalogically. Let's see now...
The last 2 nights of my Christmas Vegas trip, I felt horrid. I had a couple of Maker's the last evening, Dec. 30th, and they just didn't sit well. It turned out I was coming down with something and started 2024 a pretty sick guy.
My niece LaMondo had done Dry January the year before, so I thought, well, maybe it's time I gave my liver a break. So I stopped drinking.
Alcohol is a depressant and the last thing I needed was one more thing piling on to the mental burden I was carrying.
I figured I'd do Dry January, and follow up with Flat-faced February. But no, January ended and I just kept going.
For the first three months of 2024, I did these things:
didn't drink
practiced guitar at home, had two band practices a week, and played five small shows
painted half the inside of the house
did estate tasks and financial planning
had visitors
It was simple and it kept me afloat. Niece Lamondo visited first, then Dwiggie, then LaMondo's brother B.R. and his wife. It was nice having someone to talk to that wasn't imaginary.
Every night at bedtime I talked to Karen and still do. I told her what I'd done, and if I had a good day, and how much I miss her. Every night I dreamed of Karen, and I still do. I wake up and realize that the world I'm actually in is the one where she's gone. I hate that moment and it happens every morning.
Painting was good therapy. I applied 7 gallons of paint. I reckon I did 60 days of 4 hour sessions of work between Nov. 19th, when I started, and mid-March. I had February off. Two thirds of the painting time is preparation and clean-up, but it still takes effort. Taping and taping and taping. Moving things. On and on.
The walls - every single wall in the entire house - was painted in "Camel". Not very goddamned Florida, if you ask me.
The results are great and Karen would have been thrilled. (I'd promised a few things to her on her deathbed, and one of them was to paint the house, something we'd wanted since we'd had our first winter there, just two short years ago. Another was to try to be happy, something I'm still working on.)
I also got a job and then lost a job. A government contract at Royal Canadian Veeblefetzer. I'd had a zoom interview and done well, and even produced a few grommets at a local facility to show my prowess at the menial but important process. I was good to go for about a day when the government re-orged. Dozens of contractors working with the same procurement firm that I was using lost their contracts, and mine evaporated into the ether. It was meant to be and then it wasn't.
I don't really want to work per se, but I want to ensure my future can be the way the Quad Queen and I planned it out. I really don't want to give up my winters at the Greacey Palms Senior Putt Putt Trailer Park. That would mean losing all of our retirement dreams to ALS, and I refuse to give in to that son of a bitch.
For years, Karen had talked about the eclipse that would happen in 2024, and we planned our return date to Canada around it. Flusherville is in the path of totality, and she talked about the coming celestial display for literally years. Every April 8th she'd mentioned it. "Only 7 years to go!".
She had a little notebook on her desk that we used to count down the weeks until retirement. She'd written the dream to get laid off in 2021 (she managed it in 2020). And the weeks until my retirement are marked off. I finished in May 2021.
But look in the upper left-hand corner. April 8, 2024@3:24 pm. The eclipse.
In a discussion just after she died, I remarked that she'd miss the eclipse and that was sad. We talked about other things like what to do about a memorial and Lamondo blurted out, "The eclipse! That's the perfect day!" There was no doubt, it could only be that day.
The season in Florida started to wind down for me. I completed the painting goals I'd set out to accomplish with about 10 days to go, and then it was into my 98 item shut-down checklist. I won't bore you with details. I'll bore you with other things instead.
Mid-march packed up my stuff, and Karen's remains, and I left our retirement dream home behind. I headed for the AutoTrain station in Sanford, FL.
I'd booked a roomette for myself and I'd try to get some sleep on the overnight journey. I watched some episodes of Married at First Sight Australia as we rolled out of Florida and had a couple of cocktails with the last of the bourbon I'd had at home. The no-drinking streak had lasted about 3 months. It was good to have a nip, and a fitting time to do so.
The night was bad, as I had a terrible toothache, and the wall wart for my CPAP kept falling out of the loose outlet (the only outlet in the roomette) and landing on my head. This happened four times.
During breakfast I was seated across from an elderly couple. A new couple. He was 88 and she was 80. They told me their story and how they'd found (and continue to find) they have so much in common.
They'd met through a newspaper ad 8 months age. Each had had a spouse that was ill for 15 years. Each had cared for them. They both had had Jack Russell terriers, both named Cooper!
They lived half a mile from one another in Vermont, on the water. Their families and backgrounds were similar, and they seemed easy and happy together. They seemed 'right. They seemed happy.
"My deceased wife was named Maria," the fellow told me. "Guess what her name is?" He nodded like a wise old professor.
"Cooper?" I asked.
(It was Marie.)
They wished me well and said I could be happy again one day too. I practically ran back to my roomette, on the verge of tears. It was a very intense, meaningful, and interesting experience. But I have no interest in a Jack Russell at this point in time.
The rest of the trip was bad too. I was tired, my tooth was killing me, the weather was getting colder and gloomier and I found myself for the second time in my life filling up with gas at Frackville, outside in 40 degree weather and blowing winds, still wearing my Florida shorts. Apparently the car uses exactly a tank to get to the AutoTrain in Sanford and then from the AutoTrain in Lorton, VA to Frackville.
I stayed in the same hotel we'd stayed in on the way down. Maybe it was a mistake, but it's a good one and familiar. A bit sad, but I managed.
Crossing the border into Canada was easy but the agent asked some pointed questions. "Are you traveling alone then?..." They know everything. There was a discussion over the phone with a supervisor as to whether they'd have to inspect my stuff, but in the end, I just got sent on my way.
Being home without Karen was weird. Her presence lingered everywhere. Marks, papers, and supplies, and equipment from her fight with ALS were everywhere. As I had in Florida, I set out to eradicate it all - or as much of it as possible. At this point, there are a few things left to do, particularly repair or replace marks in the woodwork from wheelchair hubs and commode armrests.
They are scars that I hate. They stand out like devils, watching and taunting me, reminding me of the loss that that fucking disease handed us, and the struggle and pain that ensued.
Having learned something about life, I had arrived home with plenty of time to prepare for the memorial and deal with the house.
I set about putting things right. The previous summer all of my energy had been focused on Karen and everything else got dropped, right where it was. I could barely wade into the dining room for all the stuff in there.
I happened to heard a piece of music that I've always loved - a song in two parts. The first third is mysterious, ethereal, soaring with complex vocal harmonies punctuated with white light horn stabs, speaking of the universe, its power and majesty in bringing about a new era of harmony, cooperation, love and acceptance.
The second part shifts gears completely, dropping into overdrive in a lower key, blasting into a gospel funk R&B groove with a bass line that grinds, pops, flits and soars. If the sun itself had hips, it would be grinding them. Over top of this, a singer belts out a bluesy, desperate plea for peace, togetherness, understanding, love, and rebirth.
Totality for the eclipse at Flusherville would be two minutes and 23 seconds. The length of the first part of the song? Two minutes and 20 seconds.
On Monday April 8th, family and friends gathered to celebrate Karen's life. It was a wonderful afternoon of remembrance, togetherness, grieving and celebration.
As the eclipse began, we noticed changes in the light. Small at first, then more and more dramatic. We had the approved eclipse glasses to watch and we could see the moon biting away at that which brings all life like a once-in-700 years PacMan.
We hit totality and I hit the music. The sun was completely blotted out. I'd been thinking all winter about the symbolism of this and when I found the music to go with the event, I realized that in a sense, we'd all be saying goodbye to Karen at the darkest moment of any day for centuries. We raised a toast to her together during this darkness, this special, unique time, an accolade to a special and unique person.
Like life, the sun would return. I would be reborn starting with the tiniest sliver of celestial sunshine, a baptism of nuclear fire. I would move forward because, like the sun, you can't stop time, and someday perhaps, I would be able to let all of the sun shine in.
In the days after the memorial, I've found myself deep in depression. Estate tasks like removing Karen's name from the house deed and car ownership, final tax returns, and the bad weather we've had since, have chipped away at me. I've been dealing with Karen's things, getting rid of clothing and the like. I'm quite isolated and I've been struggling.
But I have made progress at putting this house in order, and there's still along way to go.
The prospect of putting together a trip report from the past interests me. I promised it last year and now it's time to get writing.
In the basement, I dug into the boxes and boxes of photos and slides. Stupidly, I brought three cubic feet of photos upstairs.
I did find what I was looking for - the original prints and the negatives of the vintage, never before published on the blog Vegas trip report.
Of course I had to buy a film scanner.
But the dining room I'd so thoroughly mucked out was torn asunder (sort of like my life). I had to suck it up and bear down. I did an initial pass, opening each of about 50 envelopes of prints, and marked what they were, when they were, and whether the negatives were inside. That done, I'm going to pack them into smaller boxes and put them all away again. I'll deal with them... sometime.
Meanwhile, I bought a slide and film scanner and I'm going to see what I can do to bring this trip report to life.
As far as trips to Vegas go, I have no current plans.
But I also found some other surprises in the photo deluge that I put aside... for a later date.
Now, I've got a new old blog to put out. From 1997.
When is the Age of Aquarius? For what it's worth, "in 2024, the location of the Sun on the March equinox is in the constellation of Pisces but also on the border of Aquarius. So, we are slowly moving into a new age, from Pisces to Aquarius."
When the moon is in the Seventh House
And Jupiter aligns with Mars
Then peace will guide the planets
And love will steer the stars
This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius, Age of Aquarius, Aquarius, Aquarius
Harmony and understanding
Sympathy and trust abounding
No more falsehoods or derisions
Golden living dreams of visions
Mystic crystal revelation
And the mind's true liberation, Aquarius, Aquarius
...
Let the sunshine, let the sun shine in
The sun shine in
Let the sunshine, let the sun shine in
The sun shine in
Oh, let it shine
Come on - now everybody just sing along
Open up your heart - and let it shine on you
And when you lonely - hey, let it shine
You gotta open up your heart - and let it shine on in
And when you feel like you been mistreated
And your friends turn their backs upon ya
Just open up your heart - let it shine on in
You got to feel it - you got to feel it
Oh, open up your heart - and let it shine on in
Now, let me tell you one thing - I want you to sing along with the 5th dimension
Hey, and open up your heart - oh c'mon - and let it shine
Glory day - hey, you got to feel it - you got to feel it
When you open up your heart - you got to let the sun come on in
Now I say, in the morning - late in the evening
Open up your heart
Hey, when you're feeling low - let the sunshine in
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