Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 28: Sara

Prompt: "A song that makes you think of a casino"

Selected by Sara

"Luck Be a Lady"

Frank Sinatra

Reprise Musical Repertory Theatre, 1963

This is it, the first song that popped in my head! "Luck Be a Lady" by Frank "Blue Eyes" Sinatra. Casinos make me think of Las Vegas. Which I know is a pretty dumb blanket statement, but now you can find casinos everywhere, and they just don't seem as special as Las Vegas. 

"Luck Be a Lady" is originally from the musical Guys & Dolls. Frank Sinatra was featured in the movie adaptation in 1955. This became a regular song for him to croon at Las Vegas casinos during his tenure as the leader of the Rat Pack. The purpose of these groups were for camaraderie and to score features in each other's movies. A way to get your name in front of a different audience or to make more money. I feel like groups of stars having fun nicknames and supporting each other has gone by the wayside. Is this another instance where we blame the internet?

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 28: Bob

Prompt: "A song that makes you think of a casino"

Selected by Bob

"Radioactive"

Imagine Dragons

Night Visions, 2012

The only reason I chose this song is because I was in a big Imagine Dragons kick when I went to Vegas the first time with my wife. Flight was delayed by hours. Got there early morning, and I was shocked that the city was still electric.

I'll never forget, we got on the elevator to our room with our bags, and we talked to a woman and two men while inside. She was holding both of their hands, and you can (as well as I can) probably imagine the rest, lol.

Saw the Grand Canyon, Blue Man Group, and even fell asleep during the Beatles Cirque du Soleil show (we drove to the Grand Canyon that day, the show was amazing).

Another dumb story. The Flyers were playing the Rangers in the playoffs. We watched each game at this Western-style bar, but I had my jersey on while on the Strip, and some dude from across the street yelled "Go Flyers!" Thought that was cool.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 28: Joe

Prompt: "A song that makes you think of a casino"

Selected by Joe

"Money on the Table"

Country Westerns

Forgive the City, 2023

The interesting thing about casinos are that I love hanging out in them, but not for money reasons. Not that I hang out in that environment too often these days anyway—especially but not solely because I stopped drinking—but shit, man, whenever I'm walking the floor, and I hear those jangly beeps and boops of the slot machines, and smell the rich tobacco smoke in the air, and feel the warmth and the soft glow of the kind overhead lighting that makes it seem like it could be any time of day, and see the hoi polloi milling about, shuffling from one machine to the other, solitary and somehow within themselves, poker faces both literal and figurative, the fleet of motorized wheelchairs and the young men with Mardi Gras beads and Bud Light aluminum bottles intermingling without concern, the short-skirt over-the-hill waitresses slinking down the aisles with cold drinks on a small tray held aloft by the left palm, all swagger and light on tips, the at once calming and sinister and yet somehow also serene atmosphere, where walking feels like wading through mud, so strong is the magnetic attraction to the the machines and the tables that promise untold wealth—when I am there, I feel like I'm home.

This is because I lived in Las Vegas for six months during some extremely formative years, and I associate those sights and sounds and emotions with that time in my life, when everything was simple, the most simple my life ever was and ever will be, a half a year when I had exactly one friend and exactly two acquaintances and one job that required fifteen hours of work per week and no rent money due and enough time to work out and to cancel out the workouts with plenty of drinking and a normal amount of sleep in the town that never slept. My life would be empty and dry and more than a little bit sad if I had stayed in that town in the environment for more than those six months. I had to come home and start my life for real eventually. But those six months ended up feeling dreamlike, not in that they were ideal, but more like they don't feel real, now, as I sit at home, twelve years later, feeling the full weight of familial responsibilities resting on my chest every second of every minute of every hour of every day. I was free, is really where I'm going with this. It's so cliché and it pains me to use that phrasing again because it's like the 777th time that I've used it on this blog but it's so goddamn true in this particular case and so I have to use it yet again: free. The lights and the sounds and the smells in a casino bring me back there, temporarily, in my mind, and it feels pretty good.

Juxtaposing this, of course, is my fear of losing money. In this regard, casinos don't really serve any tangible purpose for me. The intangible purpose of nostalgia, sure, but tangibly speaking, I ain't losing any fucking money for nothing. That's not my idea of fun. I'd love to be rich! Money would solve every single problem I have right now! But I'm not dumb enough to think that games of chance are going to benefit me in the long-term. If I'm being honest here, there's never even been any short-term gain for me at casinos either. Those moments when I've been drunk enough to think that betting money at the casino was a good idea have always ended in failure.

Our pal Dranders—whose birthday was yesterday and, if you've spoken to him recently, you might have good reason to assume that he spent that birthday at a casino—made a poor gentleman's bet with me in 2015 that his Patriots (then at or near the height of their power) would beat my Eagles (then near one of the many nadirs of theirs), and gave me 100-1 odds on it. Meaning that if the Patriots won, I'd give him a dollar, and if the Eagles won, he'd give me $100. The Patriots blew it. Dranders, a good sport and an honest man, spent the next few months gradually Venmo-ing me the money owed. When all debts were paid, a group of us went to Las Vegas for vacation, where we got nice and drunk, and then I took Dranders' $100 and put it on red. The $100 was immediately lost.

I hate that shit. There's no worse feeling than losing money for no fucking reason. I obviously wasn't making too many bets on anything in those casinos back in 2012. I think I might have played a couple slots once or twice, losing $20. I also probably made $20 on the Phillies, so let's call it square. When I say that I lived a free and simple life in that town, I mean that I refused to complicate matters by pissing away what little money I had at some fucking blackjack table or whatever. This has been the case in my life forever, and it remains to this day.

My elderly neighbor recently tried to repay my snow-shoveling of his sidewalk (took two minutes, no repayment was even necessary in the first place) by sending me a link to some asshole on YouTube telling me how to make money off of Bitcoin. My 70-year-old neighbor's texting me that this dude is a "genius" and that it's a "risky bet" but that it would "pay off in three-to-seven years." Fuck out of here with that shit. I'll gladly take the orange pound cake your wife made for us; I am not taking gambling advice on scam digital currency that acts as an exponentially worse bet than dropping social security funds into the roulette wheel.

I still don't have that much money, but I don't need money to feel good, or to feel happy, or to feel some semblance of those pure, simple emotions that I felt when I lived surrounded by casinos. I'm done kidding myself that I'll ever be rich, and when I enter a casino, that's not what I'm thinking about. Money has nothing to do with it. It's simpler than that. I walk the casino floor and I feel like my truest self. As hokey as that sounds, it's true.

Never Seen It: Ocean's Omake

I guess one of the drawbacks of moving through such a long list of items (in this case, films) in a limited (allegedly) amount of time is that there can sometimes be a sense of "okay, on to the next one!" while completely discarding the film that you just watched and which meant so much to you in a small moment in time.

So I'm glad that I got a late email from PoYB contributor Frank about the movie. Gives me (and you) another chance to think about this fun film and about the "what it all means" of this entire endeavor. Also important to get Frank's take on this, since he was an original member of Stickley's Eleven in the Great Northeast Philadelphia back in the day.

I just want to say I love Ocean's Eleven. I think that George Clooney and Brad Pitt are two great and interesting Actors with a capital A, who mostly pick interesting and meaty roles, but who aren't taken seriously because they are too good-looking and handsome and are presumed to be movie Stars with a capital S. It would take to long to explain my subjective opinion, but some people are actors, some are stars, and some are both, and there IS a difference.

Anyway, this is a chance for them to lean 100% into being movie stars. They are called Danny and Rusty, but this is a movie really about George and Brad being cool and charming, and Matt Damon getting invited into the Movie Star Club from the award-winning Indie Actor Club. It reminds me of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid ostensibly being an excuse for Newman and Redford to have fun being movie stars.

I love Elliot Gould, and I love him in this. I love Carl Reiner, and I love him in this. Bernie Mac, Don Cheadle, Andy Garcia, Julia Roberts, etc., etc., all great. Fuck Casey Affleck, who is a piece of shit.

Everyone is pitch perfect, and they give this big-budget popcorn movie to indie darling auteur Steven Soderbergh, and I think he elevates it into a master heist movie. I love heist movies, and this one is the breeziest, and maybe the best? I find it infinitely watchable. I also did the corniest thing possible when I went to Las Vegas and I went to the Bellagio Fountain show JUST so I could feel like the end of this movie.  As a former Vegas resident, I'm sure that makes you cringe, but in my older age, I fully embrace being corny and doing the nerdy things I want to do.

Always appreciate Frank's thoughts about film. Feels good to lend the ear to someone who knows what the fuck they are talking about. E.g. I had had the thought that I liked this as a heist film, but that I didn't have enough experience to say that it was one of the better heist films. That's where the guru come in. Good to know.

And it's weird, thinking back now on that quick little sojourn in Vegas. When I read "former Vegas resident," it took me a second to realize he was talking about me and Pam. I will say that the Bellagio fountain is one of the most weirdly meaningful experiences one can have in that town. I had a few back in the day. Clearly the movie knew that, and the scene fit perfectly as a conclusion. I don't think it's corny at all to continue that cycle, and to take Ocean Eleven's word for it, that you can have that moment too.

I continue to welcome any takes (hot or cold) from any PoYB readers or contributors who want to send in their thoughts about any of the movies that are covered in this column. Films are great by themselves but they are even better when they are shared.

Summer Song Challenge, Day 15: Walter

Prompt: "Your parents' wedding song"

Selected by Walter

"Here Comes the Bride"

traditional

My parents didn't have a conventional marriage since they got married in Vegas. I had to ask them what song, if any, was playing as they went down the aisle. The answer from my dad was a swift "No." So I'll imagine, since it was Vegas, that at least some pipe organ was playing "Here Comes the Bride" (this version by Pure Pianogonia). Which is actually what I am now going to recommend to Alison for whatever wedding/reception we end up having!

Ron-Ron Juice, Episode 92: Bachelor Parties

Ron-Ron Juice is what the guys of Jersey Shore drink when they wait approximately four hours for the girls to get ready to go out to the clubs. They basically sit on the couch and drink into oblivion, yelling random and probably obscene nonsense while the gals cake their makeup on and bathe in perfume. This is me, waiting for Pam. Not nearly as long as the guidettes, not even close, but long enough to blog. And this is me, drinking a little bit. Not nearly as much as the guidos, not even close, but enough to be considered "pregaming." And this is me, blogging, during that time. Ron-Ron Juice Time. CABS ARE HEEYAH.

Once again, I find myself typing away at the keyboard as Pam gets ready for a night out on the town. Looking back at the first few Ron-Ron entries, I find myself chuckling at how easy it was to get ready to do anything. Kids complicate things. E.g. try putting makeup on when there is a two-year-old tugging at your dress. I get it. And hey, it gives me time to pregame and type on the blog, which are both things I enjoy and don't often get to do a whole lot of these days.

 

Something else I don't get to do a whole lot of these days? Hang out with friends. This is not a unique complaint—we're all in the same global pandemic. I only bring it up because I want you to know that it is the reason why I'm so excited for a bachelor party in the distant future. Theoretically, for this bachelor party, we'd be heading to Las Vegas, and maybe we'll get there by Spring 2022 at the earliest... even so, I can't fucking wait. 

 

I'm just excited to do something, ya know? And so why not make it a bachelor party in Las Vegas, the ultimate bachelor party destination?

I guess that's something to shine a spotlight on, while Pam gets ready for our night out on the town and I sip on this Ron-Ron Juice (which, by the way, tastes like jungle juice): Is Las Vegas the ultimate bachelor party destination?

I'd argue the answer is "yes" but with a caveat. I wouldn't claim that you can have a significantly better time in Las Vegas for a bachelor party than you could literally anywhere else in the world. Some of the best bachelor parties I've ever been to didn't even leave the city limits, and otherwise, I've had wild times with the boys in Nashville, Chicago, Atlantic City, and yes, even North Wildwood. I don't think staging a bachelor party in Las Vegas would add anything that you couldn't find anywhere else.

But in that paragraph, I'm speaking about all tangible things. Emotionally is I think where you'd find the difference. There's something different, something special, about Las Vegas. Whether that's due to marketing toward young males that's been absorbed throughout our entire drunk lives or whether it's actually true, it's besides the point. The point is that "bachelor party in Las Vegas" is a completely different idea than a bachelor party in, say, Boston or Denver. It's like one of those things that's cliché because it's true.

Having lived in Las Vegas at one point, and subsequently visiting for a long weekend with friends a few years later, I can confirm that there really is a certain unique feeling that you get when you land at the Vegas airport and feel that dry heat hit you for the first time. It's that feeling that says: Anything can happen. 

I've been to plenty of bachelor parties but I've never been to a VEGAS BACHELOR PARTY, so you can see why I'd be inclined to push this particular newly-engaged friend in this direction (that's another thing: I don't even know if I'll be a groomsman, so do I even have a say in all this?). Weddings used to be a monthly affair in my life, but now they are few and far between. I haven't been to a bachelor party in over two years at this point. I need this shit.

I know, I know, it's not about me, it's about the groom. I get it. I'm not going to do anything the groom doesn't want to do, or push him to go anywhere he doesn't want to go. And I could see an argument that maybe a bachelor party in Philadelphia would be much more convenient for everyone. If you rent a bus and drive to the stadiums for a Phillies game and then go to a bar or something, you could have like 50-60 close friends and family join in on the fun. If your bachelor party is in Vegas, then maybe a dozen people have the time/money to take the trip. If you're an as-many-people-as-possible-partying-type of person, then maybe a destination bachelor party isn't the right call.

So? I've been to bifurcated bachelor parties before, and I don't see why this can't happen again (and again, this is especially true after being deprived of bachelor party camaraderie for over two years now). What I mean is that you first plan a trip to Vegas, call it "Bachelor Party Part I," and get a small group to go across the country and have a wild time in celebration of the groom's impending nuptials. Then, later in the month, you have "Bachelor Party Part II," this time to gather quintuple the number of people, and, I dunno, do a local bar crawl or something. You get the best of both worlds—the legendary weekend with a tight-knit group and the wild night with everyone.

But I'm mostly concentrating on the Vegas Bachelor Party aspect of these specific plans. Let the Best Man worry about BPPII. I've been talking up this particular Vegas Bachelor Party for what seems like years now, and so I'm already starting to delicately lay the groundwork so that it'll actually happen. If we do end up in Denver or whatever, so be it—again, not really my decision either way—but when I daydream about my next vacation with the male friends in my life, I'm picturing it in Vegas.

I'm picturing free drinks at a sports book. I'm picturing 2 AM tacos at some off-strip joint. I'm picturing dollar beers at a hole-in-the-wall. I'm picturing slurred speeches and sweaty affirmations. I'm not picturing any strip clubs, because I know that's not everyone's cup of tea when it comes to bachelor parties.

And mostly, I'm picturing myself, keto-bodied, lounging by a pool, beer in hand, surrounded by friends, no shirt and no shoes and NO MASKS, tipsy and carefree, hopefully sometime very soon. And in Vegas, preferably.

Alright, Pam's ready! It's been fun! Talk to y'all soon!

Five Questions, April 2018

Joe answers five questions that he wondered aloud to himself throughout the month.

1) Why did they change the highway signs on I-676, from saying that I-95 North heads toward "Trenton" to saying that I-95 North heads toward "New York"?

I fucking hate New York so it was rough seeing the name of that shitty one-horse town on a Philadelphia highway. But apparently, there is some serious construction work going on up north, where they are "closing a gap" in I-95. When the project is complete, 95 won't go anywhere near Trenton. That strip of highway previously known as I-95 will be renamed I-295, and I-95N will go straight to New York, not to Trenton. Fucking New York.

2) Do pharmacies keep EVERY prescription in the back, or do they have to special order each one as the orders come in??

The answer is boring, and it's a little bit of A and a little bit of B. I mean, obviously, they don't have EVERY prescription in there, but pharmacies know what are the "hot sellers" and keep a bunch of those, and then special order the rest. This guy on the internet seemed to know what he was talking about. I couldn't find anything about the process of pharmacies ordering special meds.

3) What is the story behind the name of the Vegas strip club Spearmint Rhino???

Pam and I always used to laugh when we passed this strip club in Vegas. It's such a silly name for a topless bar. Our theory was that two strippers opened the place originally: a stripped named Spearmint and a stripper named Rhino. Alas, the answer is more pedestrian than that. The original Spearmint Rhino opened in 1989 next to a restaurant called Peppermint Elephant, so they chose a play on words as their nomenclature.

4) Why does the Pearl Jam album Ten have eleven tracks????

I've been making good on a New Year's resolution to listen to more older music this year instead of just music that has recently come out. So last week I got my hands on a copy of Pearl Jam's most famous grunge album, Ten. I was surprised to hear, however, that there are ELEVEN tracks on the album. I always assumed that the name of the album was just a simple description of how many songs the album was comprised of. Not so! Apparently, Pearl Jam's original name was Mookie Blaylock, after the NBA basketball player. To honor Mookie, they named their debut album after his jersey number.

5) What the FUCK is the deal with that lady who keeps yelling "LET'S go PHIL-lies!" in the background of every goddamn Phillies radio broadcast, for the whole fucking game?????

I wish I had the patience to record a snippet of this bullshit on the radio and post it here, but if you wanna hear it, you're gonna have to just turn on 94 WIP during a home Phillies game. There it is, overlapping with Scott and Larry, the incessant squawk of someone yelling the same thing over and over and over. We get it!! Let's go Phillies!! Yes, we know!! It's like fucking nails on a chalkboard.

I went on /r/phillies to try to figure out what this lady's fucking deal was. And... whoops. There's evidence to suggest that the person yelling is not an adult woman, but is, in fact, a special needs child. The person I was yelling "SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!" to in the car while listening to the radio was a child. Now I feel bad. I suppose he can yell whatever makes him happy. I'll endure.

Joe's Final Vegas Post

Why did we move away from home to live in Las Vegas for half a year?

That was the question that I tried to answer when we started this blog. The answer was that we wanted to challenge ourselves, that we wanted to experience a different way of life. We love Philadelphia with all our hearts, but there had to be something else out there. How could we truly appreciate Philly when we didn't know anything else? It was to be a learning experience. Well, I'd say that was a success.

We certainly observed a different way of life. One interesting thing that I noticed is that there are basically two types of people that live in Las Vegas.

The first is personified by a young man we saw walk into the Mirage one night as we sat at the bar near the entrance. He walked in with his suitcase, yelled as loud as he could "LAS VEGAS!!!" as the veins on his head popped and he turned red, and then he literally ripped off his shirt right down the middle. Half this town is comprised of tourists who aren't really living here. They are just here to drink and party and trash everything and leave.

The second is personified by a homeless lady that randomly sat down at our table at Champagne's one night. She told us to call her either "Porkchop" or "Big Booty." She was kind of crazy. We asked her how she ended up in Vegas. She said "Well, I came down from Michigan with my friends one day, and they just left me here. I really want to go home." It seems like every local is a transplant from somewhere else, and all they want to do is go home, and Vegas is their jail cell.

Our experience in LV was basically an act of straddling between these two types of Vegas folk. We were tourists in that we weren't stuck here, and we were leaving soon, and we just wanted to party. At the same time, we did in fact call Vegas home, and in our experiences here, we really came to appreciate where we came from.

That, in my opinion, was the most important part of our experience here. We really learned to appreciate our true home. It was more than just missing Philly and the people we left behind. It was that we really grew to truly love our hometown. You don't know what you got till it's gone, as they say.

And hey, we had some great times too. We lived in Vegas, so that part was kind of inevitable. When I think over our time here, lots of little moments come to mind: a swim in the hot tub, a slice of pizza, a whiff of smoke in a dirty bar, a beautiful view of a canyon, a massively tall casino, a shot of Ass Juice, a sunset from the Stratosphere. What a city. What a time.

It's been my privilege and honor to share this great experience with my girlfriend, Pamela. We grew even closer on this trip, and my love for her grew a lot deeper. I thank her for taking me along for the ride.

Goodbye, Las Vegas. Thanks for having us.

Stick a Fork in Me, I'm Done (Pam)

I suppose it's time to write a wrap-up post for our journey out west. As we sit in our hotel room in Lenoir City, Tennessee, relaxing and watching Gator Boys on Animal Planet, I know that after today, there won't be much time for blogging. By the time this is posted, we'll be back in our hometown having already enjoyed some cheesesteaks and soft pretzels.

About a year and a half ago, Joe and I decided that we would try this whole traveling thing out.  I would get a travel nursing job and we would see what it was like to live in a different part of the country. Vegas wasn't exactly our first choice, but it worked out rather nicely. We had great weather, a nice place to live that was pretty close to both of our places of work, a pool, not to mention the fact that we were in Vegas. I mean it's pretty difficult to get bored in Vegas. We got to see some fantastic shows, visit the Grand Canyon and the Hoover Dam (more times than anyone ever needs to in a lifetime), and enjoy the excitement of the Strip including the bars, restaurants, and designer (window) shopping.

I'll be honest, working as a travel nurse in Vegas was less than enjoyable in the beginning. Working in a strange city on a different unit every day can prove to be a little exhausting, both physically and mentally. Starting in the PACU made my work out here much more pleasant. I met some great people whom I'd really love to keep in touch with, and I found that working in the PACU was pretty rewarding. In the end, it was absolutely worth it to put myself way out of my comfort zone. It forced me to become a stronger and more confident nurse.

Over the last month or so, we (or maybe just me) had sort of been counting down the days until we started our trip home. Don't get me wrong, this was certainly an experience that we will never forget, or regret for that matter. I feel like there should be way more to say about it all, but I'm sure we'll be talking all of y'all's ears off about it once we make our return.

All in all, this whole adventure was an experience that I am so grateful for. Looking back, it's been a fantastic ride, complete with the necessary ups and downs... but I wouldn't change a thing. I'm thankful to have had this chance. And I'm especially thankful that I had Joey with me all along to enjoy the ride.

It's been real, blog-ees!

Vegas FAQ

These are the questions you are going to want to ask us when you see us in person. Feel free to just read this instead.

How was your trip?

It was a great time. You can read all about it on our blog. Or else you can just assume it was great, because we lived in Las Vegas, and you shouldn't need more information than that. It is nice to be home though. Real nice.

Why did you choose Las Vegas to live in?

It was more like Las Vegas chose us. It was really the only place that was hiring travel nurses (see next question) without travel nursing experience. We originally wanted to live in like California or maybe Portland, but Las Vegas ended up being our home. Not complaining, obviously.

What did you do for a job?

Pam: Well, I was a travel nurse for a travel nursing agency. Eventually, after about a month of hopping between different Vegas hospitals, I came to end up at a hospital called Sunrise, more or less for the rest of our stay.

Joe: I went to Vegas without a job lined up, and lucked into employment with a call center about a mile and a half from our hotel. I made calls for non-profit organizations, fundraising and what have you.

How often did you work?

Pam: Eventually, I ended up working permanent Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, twelve hour shifts, starting on average around 9 AM.

Joe: I could actually pick my own schedule, which worked out well, so eventually fell into a pattern of working the same days as Pam, give or take a Wednesday shift.

Where did you stay?

We stayed at an extended-stay hotel called the Candlewood Suites. It was a studio apartment, with a full-sized bed, kitchen area, and desk. And yes, Pam's work paid for our whole stay.

Was that far from the Strip?

We could walk to the Strip in about 20 minutes, or maybe drive to it in five.

Did you go to the Strip a lot?

Not as often as you'd think. It's definitely a tourist destination, and after the first few weeks, we didn't feel like tourists anymore. There's not much to the Strip besides restaurants and overpriced clubs, so if neither of these were on our agenda (the latter never was), we tended to avoid the Strip after a while.

What else was there to do besides the Strip?

Oh, plenty. There was a myriad of fun things to do off-Strip. Fremont Street was our favorite, which featured casinos and moderately-priced bars and was just in general more fun. We went to baseball games, did trips to the Hoover Dam and the Grand Canyon, and really just tried to experience as much as we could.

How did you get around? Was everything in walking distance?

Because we try to be healthy people, we tried to walk as much as we could. So, most of our trips to the Strip were via pedestrian means. Pretty much anywhere that you could walk to within 40 minutes we would walk to (it would take about 25 minutes to walk to and from work each day, says Joe at this point).

Otherwise, the bus system was pretty comprehensive. We usually took the bus to and from Fremont Street. Really, buses ran up and down every major street. It took a few weeks to get used to the system—more because I'm an idiot than any bus complications, says Joe again—but when we did, it was super simple.

Then, of course, I had my car (says Pam). My 2012 Toyota Corolla that I leased out there is still in top shape, even after driving the 3500 miles home. We drove that sucker around quite a bit (well, on nights that we didn't plan on drinking).

Did you gamble a lot? How much did you win?

We didn't gamble that much. We put a dollar in the slots at the airport when we got in, and promptly lost, so that was pretty much that. I (Joe) gambled on two other occasions: 1) I drunkenly put $25 on black at roulette and OF COURSE IT WAS RED; 2) I bet $10 on the Phillies at the Mirage because I thought I could get free drinks with that bet stub. The minimum was $125 bets for free drinks, but the Phillies won so I won $18 anyway.

But no. We didn't gamble.

Did you see any shows?

We did! Not that many, but we did see three. We saw LOVE, Absinthe, and a comedy show featuring Kevin James and Ray Romano. Each were unique and awesome in their own way. My (Joe's) personal favorite was Absinthe, but LOVE was incredible too, and James/Romano were great.

Did you go out to eat every night?

Nah, though there was an abundance of great places to eat. We usually went out maybe three times a week. For the other eighteen meals in the week, we flexed our cooking prowess and made some meals in the home. That crock pot is freaking awesome.

But when we did go out, we had went to some great places. Our favorite was a taco place right around the corner called Yayo Taco. Cheap, tasty tacos, and a huge beer selection.

Were you at this one restaurant I was at when I was out there?

Probably not.

Was it expensive out there?

Yeah, for the most part, it was, but we were smart about it. We balanced the $8 beers with the $1 beers. We balanced out the fancy dinners and the Jack in the Box and the cheap home-cooked meals. We worked hard to get those paychecks and not blow our savings.

Do you miss it?

We miss certain things, yeah. A lot of little things, like the sound of a casino or the view from our window or the mammoth heights of the hotels. But all in all, we don't miss it that much.

Are you happy to come home?

Of course. Duh. We missed everybody like crazy.

What will you miss the most?

Probably the fact that we felt like we were on a five-month vacation.

What did you miss the most?

Family, friends, and cheesesteaks.

How was the weather?

It was dry and hot most of the time. It was hard to appreciate that dry heat until we didn't have it anymore, which was when we pulled up to Houston and practically swam out of the car. The sun was brutal in Vegas. Sometimes it felt like hot irons.

How come you don't have a tan?

Suntan lotion, baby. I (Joe) am married to that SPF 35. Pam is a little less liberal on the suntan lotion, but she can still realize the importance of it. No skin cancer!

Did you take a lot of pictures?

Sure. Check out our blog for pretty much all our pictures.

I know someone who moved out there.

Cool.

How was your ride home?

It was a lot of driving. But we stopped at some cool places. Los Angeles was a good time, and New Orleans in particular was awesome. What a great weekend there.  But yeah, we drove a lot too. We made the best of it.

Now what are you up to? Are you working?

Pam is right back to her old job at Jeff, and she's excited to get back. I (Joe) am currently looking for something. Who knows. I don't want to talk about it.

So are you ever going back to Vegas? Are you going anytime soon?

We're going back for our 25th wedding anniversary, so in about 27 years. Until then, we've had our fair share of that city. Five months was enough.

On the Road, Days Six Through Eight: NOLA BABY!

It was nice to get out of Houston—not much to see there except our jail cell of a hotel room. We left around 10 AM for our most anticipated destination: New Orleans. Thankfully, the driving was only about six hours, including the bad traffic and the torrential downpours.

Pam was driving during the thunderstorm, God bless her. The storm was huge, and happened right as we were driving over a ten-mile-long swamp in the heart of Louisiana. It was crazy.

The hotel we stayed at was a billion times better than that Houston room. It was clean and homely. It even had a second level up spiral stairs with another bed (that we didn't use, but it was cool that our hotel room had a second floor). The rain caught up with us by the time we checked in at four, so we waited it out until six, when it was still raining and we just said "screw it" and bought some ponchos and headed out to Bourbon St.

What a neat town. It's an old town, which only means it's filled with culture. All up and down Bourbon Street, it's all shops and bars and restaurants, and all of them have balcony levels that you can hang out on. Here's the view from Embers Grill, where we ate dinner that first night.

I had my first Po' Boy, complete with alligator meat, and washed it down with a local brew, Abita Amber.

Pam had already visited New Orleans about two years ago, so she was familiar with all this. She said it was great to be back. I could tell she really loves this city. It really was a great vacation spot.

The rest of Friday night was a blur of neat bars and crazy drinks (including the infamous "Hurricane" which basically tasted like Jungle Juice I used to ladle out of a big trash can in my youth) and great Cajun music. We eventually stumbled on a bar that featured that great N'awlins jazz music, complete with accordion and fat lady playing the spoons. We had a great time just hanging out and enjoying the environment.

Saturday morning we took it a little easy—it was the first time in a couple of weeks that we had a long night of partying, so even though we did wake up for our complimentary hotel breakfast, we promptly fell back asleep until probably one o'clock, so it was a late day. When we did finally head out though, we walked through the French Quarter, which featured some nice sights.

It also was just as fun as Bourbon Street. Tons of people were out and about. After a nice lunch of blackened chicken, we hit up some shops.

The local souvenirs

We found a nice spot on a balcony of a cafe to enjoy some nice cool beers on a hot day.

It had a good view of all the people walking—and riding—by.

All kinds of people passed us, including a couple wedding parties.

This was the first time I saw the Mississippi River with my own eyes. It was majestic.

Again, we basically just spent the whole day walking around and hanging out at different spots. We walked along the river, we checked out a few Voodoo shops, we chilled at one of a few local breweries, we hung out at a jazz bar that was just FANTASTIC as far as live music goes. The musicians were so talented. Let's see, what was the band called? Ah yes, Pam reminds me they were the Shotgun Jazz Band. Just blew us away.

So that was our NOLA experience. What a relaxing, riveting, exciting, and fun weekend. I'm so glad we stopped there.

Today we drove for pretty much the whole day. Our plans to stay in Georgia fell through, so we basically got directions from N.O. to Baltimore, and stopped halfway whatever hotel was there. So now we're at the Days Inn in Lenoir City, Tennessee, blogging for the final night and watching some Breaking Bad and eating some Little Caesar's. It's nice to relax after a long day on the road.

We have one more adventure at our friend's house in the suburbs of Baltimore, and then it's time to head on home. It's time, folks.

This will be my last time blogging. We have three or four more posts that are coming up before Tuesday afternoon, but they will be more conclusion posts. This is our last live from-the-field post.

What a ride it's been.

On the Road, Days Four and Five: Camping/Driving/Driving

Ugh... I don't feel like typing anything right now. We were on the road for about fifteen hours today. Brutal, and the last thing I want to do right now is blog. But there are only a few more days left of this, so I'll persevere. Again, it's mostly just pictures.

We woke up early at our hotel in Phoenix and hit the road. Lots of hills and valleys and rocks and what have you. There's not much to write about. We drove.

...and drove...

...and drove. This was the scene we gazed upon through the windshield for seven hours. New Mexico is alright. Did you know the official state nickname is "The Land of Enchantment?" I mostly think about a cancer-ridden chemistry teacher cooking meth in the desert when I think about New Mexico, but hey, different strokes.

We camped last night at a pretty neat campsite. It was strange at first, because we pulled up (and it takes about 25 minutes to pull up, through the six-mile driveway), and we were the only people there. We dropped ten bucks in a slot to reserve a campsite for the night, and we were literally the only people there for a while—no rangers, no fellow campers, no one.

Well, okay, there were some cows, so we weren't completely alone.

Pam had me take a lot of pictures of the cows. These are the best ones.

Our campsite was on the side of a mountain, and the view was quite beautiful.

Lots of mountains and greenery in the surrounding areas

We set up our campsite just in time for sunset.

Thankfully, we were once again lucky with the weather. It rained just a little bit as we were rolling through Las Cruces, but once we got to the campsite, all was dry. Aside from one or two flashes of lightning late in the night, the weather was perfect for camping.

It was a great sunset. We climbed on top of a big rock to watch it.

Contemplating the beauty

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And then it was time for some wine.

Lots of vegetation around

And lots of creepy crawlies, which we tried to avoid at all costs. Although I tried to go into the men's bathroom, and saw the creepiest crawly... 

Doesn't look that big in this, but the scorpion was huge. God bless the man who tried to relieve himself in here late at night.

That's it for the pictures, but the following 24 hours were really nothing to see.

It got dark, and we just hung out in the tent, hoping the scorpion would stay outside. Lights out seemed like it last about five minutes. Before you knew it, it was 4:30, which was wake up time, and we were on the road by 5:15, brushing our teeth and eating breakfast at the first gas station we came to.

Camping was definitely worth it. We saw some beautiful sites, we saved some money, and we got some fresh air and a good (short) night's sleep.

Today was a long day. It was driving, driving, and more driving. We drove from Las Cruces, NM, to Houston Texas. Don't ask me how many miles, I'd rather not try to remember at this point. My left leg is killing me from being cramped up all day.

But! Staying positive! We didn't get lost once. We remained optimistic even though we were cooped up. We beat most of the traffic. We experienced Texas and the true vastness of it. We followed the same truck for like three hours and hopefully freaked them out. We somehow ended up in downtown Houston accidentally but got a nice BBQ dinner while we were there and made it out without any trouble whatsoever. And we had each other to keep company, except when the person riding shotgun was asleep (which alternated every three hours or so).

We're currently here in Houston by the airport. The hotel, on a scale from Crack Den to Hilton, is just on this side of safe, but still really crappy. Like, we're saving some money, and let me reiterate again that it's definitely not dangerously crappy or anything, but it's by far the worst hotel we've stayed at.

But! Staying positive! The internet works well. The air conditioning works (woah, totally not used to this humidity). We saved a bunch of money, money that we can now spend in New Orleans. Oh, and we're gonna be in fucking New Orleans the whole weekend. Can't wait.

So, we're over the hump. Today promised to be the worst day of the trip, driving-wise at least, but we got through it, and easily at that.

Should be a great weekend.

On the Road, Days Two and Three: Hollywood/Baseball/Driving

AW YEAH MORE PICTURES YEAH. Did you know you can click on each picture to enlarge it?

We woke up in our clean-smelling hotel room in a safe and secure neighborhood quite early. Early for us, anyway, and started our touristy day right after our free extensive continental breakfast. Or, a bucket of bagels and some coffee, same thing. We high-tailed out of there ASAP when a whole family came into the small room and started coughing all over the food, and then the littlest kid sneezed and a thick column of snot went all over his hands and plate. It's hard being hungry in those kinda situations.

We first drove to Hollywood, and one of its most famous attractions, Grauman's Chinese Theater. It's instantly recognizable. It's also the location of the Walk of Fame.

Saw some famous people's footprints, like here, Dean Martin.

Twins

Pam's hands are as big as Jimmy Stewart's. You know what they say about people with big hands. (They tend to stretch out their winter gloves.)

Some guy named Frank Sinatra

Some chick named Julie Andrews. Unlike the caption of the Frank Sinatra footprints, I'm serious here. I don't know who Julie Andrews is. (I had to pretend a lot in Hollywood, because I know nothing about movies.)

Will Smith, best known for his work on the hit blockbuster film Wild Wild West

We decided to take an actual tour of the Chinese Theater. There were some neat Chinese thingamabobs in there, like this Chinese lamp thing.

The theater had a lot of history in it, a point the tour guide stressed again and again. It had prestige. Famous people were here. It featured collections of props and costumes from famous movies. Even the bathroom lounge was where all the stars hung out. The main point being that Grauman's Chinese Theater was an important piece of cinematic history.

This history, in my opinion, was cheapened by the movies that were being featured this month at the theater (an actual movie theater, ya know): Tyler Perry's Madea, Step Up 4, the Katy Perry movie, etc. A far cry from Citizen Kane.

You may recognize the sign in the background.

Get that ugly mug out of the way, we want to see the Hollywood sign again!

This was the view from the Chinese Theater area, by the way. You could get tours that would take you closer, but they were costly, and they also included stop like "Mel Gibson's house," and "the hotel where Hugh Grant got busted with a prostitute." No joke. We passed.

There was some jabroni from Glee, apparently, on the floor below us getting slobbered on by a bunch of paparazzi. Pam was holding the camera at this point, I hope it goes without saying.

We seriously have two pictures of this??

Get that ugly Hollywood sign out of the way, we want to see the Pam again.

No celebrity-filled town would be complete without this kind of place.

There was a ton of stars on the ground for blocks and blocks. Here's Walt Disney's. I was hoping Stone Cold Steve Austin had one, but I couldn't find one.

It was still pretty early, so we took the highway to the fairway to the parkway or whatever and ended up at Old Pasadena, a cool little town with lots of nooks and crannies and a bar with a backyard where you could sit and enjoy a bitter IPA.

Then we took the highway back to the expressway next to the freeway or whatever and ended up at the fancy part of town. I forget what it's called. Wait, let me wake up Pam and ask her. Yup, okay. It's called Rodeo Drive. Apparently it was featured in Pretty Woman. I've never seen that movie. I've never seen a lot of movies; I told you, I had to fake it a lot in Hollywood. 

Anyway, Rodeo Drive. It had a lot of really high-end stores, most of which I have never heard of, some of which I could not pronounce, and absolutely none of which I've ever bought anything from. But it was nice mixing in with the patricians and the noblemen. Kind of.

Alright! So we had tickets to see the Phillies vs. Dodgers game that night! This a plan that's more my speed. Getting to Dodgers Stadium was easy—our hotel was about a block away. We just had to walk up a big hill is all. Strangely, there were different entrances for you depending on what level you were sitting in. We had nosebleeds, so we had to go up two big sets of steps to even gain entrance to the park. And there were only elevators connecting the different levels of the stadium, no stairs or escalators on the inside.

The park itself looked real nice. It cavernous, with lots of seats, and LOTS of empty seats. I enjoyed looking out to right field and fondly remembering Matt Stairs's moonshot into the night.

The Dodgers fans, true to their reputation, sucked. They showed up in the 2nd, and they left in the 8th. They were leaving in droves, despite the fact that it was only a one-run game and the Dodgers are in the middle of a pennant race.

They cared little about the game. Oh sure, they cheered loudly for Matt Kemp when he came up to bat, but they cheered louder for a freaking beach ball that was being tossed around from section to section. That would NEVER happen at a Phillies game (in fact, Franzke and Anderson made fun of them in tonight's broadcast for those beach balls). And they cheered the loudest for one of those mid-inning things on the scoreboard where you pick what song should be played after the game. They cheered three times as loud for "Living on a Prayer" than they did when the Dodgers tried to rally in the sixth. Pathetic.

The stadium was okay. Citizen's Bank Park, I think, has spoiled us. Dodgers Stadium was old and cramped. The concessions were all the same. Each one was just called "Dodger Dogs" and sold, um, Dodger Dogs, along with the obligatory peanuts and crackerjack. Ho hum.

Note how I'm staying off the railing on the steps. Remember the snot family from the free continental breakfast? Yup, they were there, running their snotty hands up and down the railing right next to us. Germ-free, yo.

We weren't the only Phillies fans there. Now, there wasn't as many as, say, the games we attended in Pittsburgh or Washington D.C. But there was a decent amount, including a big group two sections over from Temple University. They were quite drunk and started many a "Let's Go Phillies" chant, which we appreciated.

This is the beautiful view from outside the stadium. It was a great game. Joe Blanton threw a confident eight innings of two-run ball, which is spectacular for Joe Blanton (first time he didn't give up a home run in a game since May 8th, no kidding). Howard hit his first dinger of the season. The Phillies, though playoffs are quite close to impossible at this point, are putting together a nice winning streak. Glad we got to see a good game, in any case.

And now I know all you folks reading this, a group that includes both our sets of parents, were worried about leaving the game to head home, and our safety on the journey. Let me assure you that: 1) No one started trouble with us, not once; 2) Like I said, we were really close to the stadium, like a block; 3) We coincidentally walked back to our hotel with a big group from the game that was also staying at the hotel. They were all Dodgers fans, and of course the literally snotty family were among our numbers, but we were safe. All is well!

Today was not as exciting a day, admittedly. It was mostly driving through the dessert, and then crashing at the hotel in Phoenix. Here's the dessert we drove through.

Here's a ton of wind-energy things that we saw. Seriously, there were hundreds.

More mountains!! Woohoo!!

Tomorrow we are driving to Las Cruces, NM, where we are going to camp at a pretty nice campsite. So, no update tomorrow. But I'll be sure to post something by the time we roll in Houston, TX on Thursday night. By that time, we'll only be ONE time zone behind Philly! Goodnight, y'all.