WEEKEND IN VEGAS
A few observations on a quick trip to Sin City
I spent this past weekend in Las Vegas, which is always a loaded sentence. But what happened in Vegas won’t stay in Vegas since, as a married, non-alcohol drinker, my activities were all only slightly decadent. I’d been in the city once during the height of the pandemic, flying in to meet with a musician about a possible documentary collaboration and staying at one of the big casino hotels. At that point there were no shows, so if you were in Sin City, you were there to gamble. Discounted hotel and airline prices meant there were still people filling the gambling floors at the big casinos, many of them people of color taking advantage of the lower prices despite the risk of infection. I was fully masked in and out of my hotel, and rightfully paranoid about any all interactions that took place inside.
Bolstered by three vacine shots, my wife and I ventured to Caesar’s Palace to see a weekend of shows by Chris Rock at its impressive Coliseum Theater. It was 95 degrees when we arrived, so I knew we’d be spending most of our days inside. My wife and I mostly wore our masks when in the hallways, elevators and public spaces at Caesars, but were definitely in the minority. Nevada had dropped its masks mandate and most of our fellow tourists were maskless, breathing in the packed hallways and elevators like it 2018.
Rock’s two shows were excellent and slightly different, each running well over an hour and full of the socio-political insights he’s famous for and funny stories about raising his now college aged daughters. He eludes to the Oscar attack early in the show, but the focus of the material is on the well prepared comedy he’s been developing over the past year. The show’s biggest surprise is a section built around a salacious text message thread that uses on screen graphics to enhance the humor. If you can catch Rock’s tour this year, he’s in fine form and sure to get stronger with time. Rick Ingraham, his opener, is a nice contrast with humor based on picking on audience members in the most brutal and racially aware ways.
No trip to Vegas is complete without a bit of gambling. Played blackjack with a posse of four until 3a.m. on Saturday night, leaving the table with $200 profit and several fully smoked Monte Cristo cigars. The late gambling floor was packed, while at the all-night bar/restaurant there were women in super short dresses and clear heels, dining with men of questionable intergrity, who seemed well suited for each other. After all, re Vegas time, the night was still young.
Service at Caesars was spotty — no complementary robes, slow room service — but the food options throughout the massive hotel were excellent. I recommend Joe’s Stone Crab House in the Forum Shops.
On the way to the airport Sunday we had a very talkative veteran driver named Steve, who talked at lenght about the homeless problem in Vegas and how that population lived in the city’s sewers and tunnels. Almost on cue we passed a fire at a small encampment near a large underground garage. The fire departnent was on the scene, washing down ambers of the possessions of a homeless man. As hot as it gets in Vegas, its a hell of a place not to have shelter in.
At the airport we grabbed a burger at a fast food spot and sat under a poster for the Elvis Presley/Ann Margaret flick, ‘Viva Las Vegas,’ a fitting end to a short stay in this city of people working very hard to be happy.
