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Super Bowl Weekend is in full swing and we have a very respectable crowd in town.
I'm not sure if it's "third busiest weekend in Las Vegas" busy, though, which it has purportedly been over the years.
Traffic is certainly worse than usual, but only modestly so. Up to this point, I have been able to zip in and out of sports books to grab betting sheets with little to no delay, and book window lines have not been appreciably longer than they are during a random NFL Sunday.
Casino floors have been widely variable from "normal" at Paris to "downright packed" at the adjacent Bally's.
With overcast skies, drizzle, and temperatures hovering in the 50's, the weather this weekend could not be more perfect. I would go so far as to say that this is as good as it gets for Las Vegas.
The weekend has also been somewhat mellow for yours truly.
I scheduled a poker tournament on Friday afternoon at the Luxor, but as luck would have it for the participants, the table was overbooked and I had to cede my seat. With me out of the game, those who played had a shot at winning some money. From what I hear, two chicks won the tournament, so in retrospect I can't help but have liked my chances.
The Surly Mediterranean
Anyone who has made the drive from Southern California to Las Vegas is familiar with The Mad Greek. Since there are billboards for this restaurant every dozen miles or so, it would be hard not to at least be superficially aware of its existence.
Located in Baker, California, The Mad Greek is arguably the most popular diner between Vegas and LA. Baker is also, inexplicably, home to the World's Largest Thermometer. I am not kidding and I have no idea why such an attraction exists.
Anyway, since I'm fairly impatient and have no desire to hang out in the middle of Tweedledick, Nowhere ... I typically zoom by this small town at the appointed interstate speed limit, and not a single mile-per-hour faster.
One day about 8 years ago, however, it appeared that I was overly-optimistic with regards to the fuel efficiency of my vehicle. I stopped in Baker to fill up my gas tank, drain the monster ... and while I was there ... figured I would eat at the pissed off Greek dude's restaurant.
Unfortunately, I do not remember the details of the food vividly. This either means that it was not memorable, I had other things on my mind, or both.
Last year, I began noticing billboards going up around Las Vegas indicating that a location for this restaurant had opened on the Las Vegas Strip. Since this joint was already somewhat associated with traveling to Las Vegas, this seemed like a natural progression.
No Publicity is Bad Publicity
Growing up in Washington, DC, I never thought much about Las Vegas.
Then again, I don't suppose there was much to think about.
It was a hole in the desert over 2,000 miles away where people gambled while listening to Elvis sing.
I didn't have anything against the town, it just never crossed my mind. I probably said the word "Vegas" three times before I was 20 years old.
These days, I get the impression that most locals would prefer this mentality from the folks back home. The only time someone in Washington mentions Las Vegas by name these days is to verbally kick the town squarely in the ass.
Last year, President Barack O'Drama chastised corporations for using federal money to take trips to Las Vegas. I believe his exact words were "You can't go take that trip to Las Vegas or go down to the Super Bowl on the taxpayers' dime".
Frankly, I found his comment offensive, but not for the reason that most other locals did. I didn't care about the Las Vegas angle, I was just offended that these companies had taxpayer dimes. What they did with those dimes was inconsequential to the fact that they had them at all.
One Step Closer To Primm
February 18th, 2010.
An otherwise un-notable date has taken on a whole new significance in Las Vegas.
It officially represents the last day that Planet Hollywood will be an independent property in any way, shape, or form.
On the 19th, it will officially be a Harrah's venture from top to bottom.
The first order of business for Harrah's once they take over will be to, what else, lay people off ... albeit "only" about 100 people. The layoffs are supposed to strike primarily management positions. It's very sad to see anyone lose their job, but since the office folks probably have more marketable skill sets outside of the gaming industry than do dealers and cocktail waitresses, I suppose these are the least tragic positions to lose.
Besides, I'm not sure how much current Planet Hollywood employees would get along with the rhesus monkeys that Harrah's currently employs in management.
You Can’t Fight City Hall
I have always found Las Vegas City Hall to be somewhat impressive. Built in 1973 and extended in 2003, it is large, modern, and more than suitable for a city of 600,000 people.
Depending on the latest turn in our numbers, Las Vegas is now a city that is either losing population or is experiencing miniscule growth. This being the case, one might surmise that our existing municipal infrastructure is just right. At a time when the city is hemorrhaging tax revenue without an end in sight, even if our City Hall were not ideal, one might think that we could hold on and make it work until things got a bit better.
Obviously, I'm missing something.
Municipalities like to chronically decry the fact that they do not have enough money, and they are always on the lookout for ways to rip-off the citizenry, but I maintain that nearly all budget shortfalls are a result of mismanagement by government itself. I have a fair number of Federal employees in my extended family, and exactly zero of their positions are essential to the health and welfare of the American people. They are also the most shiftless, lazy, unmotivated people I have ever met in my life. They would not be able to hold jobs at Burger King for more than 2 weeks. I have the nerve to wonder why I don't get invited to family reunions.
In my opinion, 90% of government employment is glorified welfare for people with absolutely zero ambition. Say what you want about people on food stamps, but welfare queens are downright cheap when compared to their "government employee" counterparts who get salaries and pensions for shutting up and not rocking the boat for 30 years.
Eating Out
If there is one universal culinary truth in Las Vegas, it is that our pizza sucks.
It just flat out blows goats.
As an East Coast transplant who used to enjoy good pizza on a very regular basis, this has always been hard to come to terms with. Along with blowing goats ... a hobby I have picked up since I moved here.
When I lived on the far west side of Vegas, there was a joint called "Villa Pizza" at Durango and Desert Inn which was actually pretty good -- but not good enough to keep me in that hellacious neighborhood of bored lawn nazis with whom I was constantly at odds. I tried to organize a homeowner's uprising at one point, but all of my neighbors were so browbeaten into submission that they quivered and soiled their pants at the mere mention of the name of the HOA.
It's been a very long time since I've been back to that gated mind-toilet.
I wonder if they miss me?
Anyway, those days of 2004-2005 were probably the last time I had a decent slice of pizza in this town. There is a Villa joint near Maryland and Sahara, but the one time I ate there was kind of a disappointment. I figured two restaurants in the same franchise would be the same, but somehow they weren't.
Today, however, I finally broke the five-year losing streak.
Las Vegas Derailed
It's a bad time to be a fan of rail transit in Las Vegas.
The application for our proposed high-speed Maglev train from Anaheim to Las Vegas has been denied.
So much for that.
Supposedly, not all is lost, however. Backers of the "DesertXpress" train from Victorville to Las Vegas see this as a positive development since their project is still in the works, and the ruling eliminates what would ostensibly be their primary competitor.
In theory.
Frankly, if anyone thinks Californians are going to all of a sudden discover rail travel and abandon their vehicles, they're higher than I have ever been in my life.
I used to live directly on top of the Los Angeles Red Line subway, and I rode it almost daily, but the greatest thing about the train was the fact that I almost never had to compete for a seat. Keep in mind that this was a train that traversed the most densely populated, transit-oriented population in Southern California, and not even they rode it in droves.
Westlake (the neighborhood immediately west of Downtown) has a population density of 45,000 people per square mile. To put this into perspective, the city of San Francisco has 17,000 people per square mile. Central LA (Downtown, Westlake, Mid-Wilshire, and Hollywood) is on par with Brooklyn with regards to density.
The Root of All Evil
It's been an intolerable poker week for yours truly.
For some inexplicable reason, the ladies of the city have been making my life miserable.
A couple of days ago, the bane of my existence was "boob girl", and today it was "spectator girl".
Those of you who play poker in Vegas on a semi-regular basis have almost certainly encountered this creature. This is the woman who stands behind her boyfriend or husband, or pulls up a chair to sit and watch from behind.
The spectating girlfriend takes on many forms. Sometimes she stands quietly behind her meal ticket and doesn't say a word. Sometimes she nags him that she's hungry. Sometimes she is friendly with the other players. Sometimes she's loud and obnoxious.
When a guy's female companion walks up behind him and begins to camp out, you just never know what you are going to get.
Frankly, I'm not always a huge fan of spectator girl.
If her husband is sitting across from me, I don't really care. If he is sitting three seats to my left, I don't really care.
If he is sitting beside me ... I care.
Hash House a No Go
The Hash House a Go Go is an off-strip joint that has had somewhat of a cult following for many years, and late last year they finally opened a restaurant inside of the Imperial Palace.
The far-flung location of this eatery (Rainbow and Sahara) has always prevented me from becoming a routine patron of the establishment, but its new location mid-Strip allowed me to finally get around to giving it a fair shot.
This morning, I happened to be out and about by myself when hunger struck, and I've always felt that eating solo was highly underrated. I never really caught on to the eating-as-a-social event thing. Why do people get together to talk at the precise moment they plan on having food in their mouths? It's kind of like going to the proctologist after downing a full bar of Ex-Lax. When I eat, I don't like to talk, I like to read ... or possibly think. The last thing in the world I want to do is carry on a conversation. I'm very much an eater that prefers to be left alone.
The only drawback to eating solo is that everyone else in the restaurant looks at you with pity and assumes that you are a loser, and I am a loser which I've fully accepted.
This being the case, I ascended the escalator to the Hash House, and asked the seating guy (host? I don't know what their title is) for a table for one. He looked at me quizzically and said "one?", as if I couldn't possibly be serious.
"Yes, I will be eating alone", I replied.
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November 17th, 2009 Tis The SeasonComments are closed. |
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