You can't always be a winner in Vegas

I'm old. I'm 38 going on 83. I complain. I grouse. I drive slowly. I suddenly enjoy Barry Manilow music. I forget things, like the things I want to write for you, oh dear reader.

I wanted to tell you about our mini-vacation last weekend, a beautiful time in Nevada. But it just kept deteriorating into a full-blown old-man rant about unrelated and generally unimportant things, so this is the third draft.

To sum up, first, the Bad (so you'll end on a high note, like the French resistance!):

No free rental car upgrade. Skippy would have gladly charged me 50% more for a slightly larger car, but really, I'm not going to pay more for something I don't want to drive, when I'm already getting something I don't want to drive. The exception here is if the only car they had in my class was a PT Cruiser, I do have my limits. His response to me became the title.

No hotel reservation when we arrived at the hotel around midnight.

A nearly two-hour adventure in the hotel's only open restaurant in order to get our food. He comped us, apologized profusely, but when I haven't eaten in ten hours I don't really care. Bring me my bacon and eggs. If necessary, I'll cook it myself.

DFW is a monstrous airport, just allowing them to put connecting gates further apart, I suppose. It's an impressive feat of engineering, but how can you enjoy it when you have 20 minutes to travel to another time zone in the airport?

And really, can't we join hands across America to stop people from bringing their yippy dogs and screaming children on planes? I understand that children need to get places, too, I really do. But is it really a good idea to take them on the latest flight you can possibly find? Overtired children plus overtired me will get me banned from an airline some day, I'm sure of it.

Funny how travel takes everything out of you. As nice as the core of our trip was, seeing the strip and the mountains and everything between, the periphery of a trip can really take its toll. In fact, I know this is a lousy post, but hey, they can't all be winners.

The Good:

Believe it or not, my Ford Focus. The Ford Focus with the bad wheel bearing and jangling rattle in the door. Of course, I could have taken the Rondo, but we already know how I feel about that. Truth be told, though, if I were an economy car kind of guy, and wheel bearing aside, it was a zippy little car. Not much for offroading in the desert, but zippy nevertheless. I'd actually give this car a B, for what it was.

Had a nice Thanksgiving dinner at my boss' house with his family and friends, phenomenal wine that I could never afford myself and pumpkin pie. Mmmm, pie.

Had a great drive out to Red Rock Canyon, though we failed to see any of the wild burros they claimed were roaming the land. Because Friday was their busiest day of the year, filled with people avoiding the mall, they let us use Friday's receipt for admission again on Saturday. We went back in the morning, when the crowds were gone, and it was still stunning that something so wild could be so close to civilization. That just doesn't exist here in Florida.

Drove the strip, still quite the experience, we even drove past the 'civilized' areas and on to the cliched wedding chapels and motor lodges. It's important to have perspective.

Had some great Mexican food, first thing we've had that rivalled Jalisco's that didn't come from a truck by the side of the road. Though I love me some truck tacos.

Even though it was just a long weekend trip, we got to look at houses. There's some surprisingly affordable new construction out there.

And the best part of any vacation, returning home and sleeping in my own bed, with my own pillow, nestled against my sweetie.

Dreaming of luxe rental cars, posh new houses and wild burros.

Random Acts of Thursday - Happy Thanksgiving

May it be a time of joy for you and yours. If you're reading this, it means you didn't chew your food long enough. I'm not here in person, but in spirit on this day of gathering, but felt it only fair to share my thanks to you, dear reader, for without you, I'd just be a crazy fat guy talking to himself.

To quote Kevin James: "Thanksgiving, man! Not a good day to be my pants."

Now log off your computer and go get a slice of pie. I'll be back on Monday, save me a piece, would you?

It's a Thanksgiving Miracle!

Not really, just sane booking. We fly out to Vegas in a few hours, and our flight change is actually ALONG THE ROUTE from Tampa to Vegas. Like someone planned it.

What are the odds?

Last time I flew Phoenix to Tampa, I changed planes in Philadelphia. Oooh, THAT'S direct. Likewise with my flight from Milwaukee to Kansas City, via Atlanta.

Click here for a map if you're confused by why this might cause me stress.

Wherever you're going, have a safe journey this weekend, even if it's just across town or across the kitchen. And feel free to vent about your worst flight connections here. Really, it will help the healing begin.

You can then be thankful tomorrow.

Fun Fact Friday - Snot clots are not hot

Friday, Friday, Friday! Weighing in as bright and sunny, another beautiful day in the desert. And bonus, another dead wrestler trading blog!

This time, it's the clash of the politically incorrect ethnic stereotypes!

Fritz von Erich, the Iron Claw...

...versus Wahoo McDaniels!

Trade with your friends! Fun for the whole family, except for your creepy uncle Francine. Void where prohibited by good taste.

I have yet to see 'The Wrestler' with quintessential everyman, Mickey Rourke, but I saw him talking about the cutting that went on to make the matches more exciting. Because blood equals excitement.

Come on, you HAVE to love The Crusher!

Couple that with my visit to the Nevada desert this week, when I'm not yet accustomed to the dry air. My sinuses spent the first five days of the trip crusted with dried blood. This is, of course, normal. Unusually dry climates, especially when one's body is unfamiliar with a lack of humidity (gee, thanks, Florida!), can cause the tiny little vessels in your sinus cavities to rupture, causing nosebleeds.

Of course, the more common cause of nosebleeds is slightly less analog. As in "more digital"...

Yes, I have my nerd hat on today.

And I've been waiting for ages to use this picture:

Notable nosebleeds in history include Attilla the Hun, who drowned in his own blood after suffering a nosebleed in his sleep. And people say history is boring.

Random Acts of Thursday - Camus can do but Sartre is smartre

Everyone be sad. I have just been told that Captain Lou Albano passed away yesterday. As a product of the '80's, I remember him showing up in Cyndi Lauper videos and bad Hulk Hogan documentaries.

As though there are any GOOD Hulk Hogan documentaries.

I am bereft of nerdiness this evening as I write this for you, oh dear reader, since you will be awake and reading this before I even stir in my hotel bed.

But really, if anyone knows what the deal was with the rubber bands, PLEASE don't keep that to yourself. I've wondered since he first screamed 'Whatchoo gonna do wit your life?'

And as long as you've nothing better to do, go pick up the trail of breadcrumbs I've left for you on the 10/1 contest.

Take a little trip, take a little trip with me

All my friends know the low rider.

Okay, not all of them, but maybe most.

Well, some.

Okay, fine, I was just dropping names, I don't even know anyone who knows anyone who knows the low rider. I'm just deliberately wasting your time. Monday when I was leaving for the office, there was a car club loading up their rides for the trip back home. I don't understand, exactly, but apparently one does not drive these cars long distances, even when you've spent the money to buy the vintage window fan.

I guess I understand that, because damn, they're beautiful, and it would kill me to get a stone chip in my hand-striped, silver-leaf-encrusted 64. And note the chubby guy in the blue shirt reflected in the bumper on the first photo. It was almost like I planned to coordinate with my subject. I love the engraving, always so many new ideas, I'd love to have Ruby outfitted as such.

And speaking of taking little trips, I leave in two weeks for the greater Cleveland area to train clients for five days, then I'm home again for a week, and it seems more likely than not that I'll be back in Germantown, MD again.

I'm really racking up those frequent flier miles.

That's all I ask man, just two hours to sleep

Travel takes its toll on me. As it stands, I've been up since 4 am. My body think's it was 7, but even that's way too early to be up, or it would be if I were home. I'm working in my company's Henderson office this week, and it will be a slight adjustment.

Last night, eating dinner outside with Ron and Kathy, in the 'hot Nevada desert', it was 87 degrees and I was freezing my ass off until I got a beer in me. What do you know? It really IS the humidity.

I always thought that was just a line, small talk to keep people from talking about the things that really matter in life.

Am I getting deep here? I don't mean to, but I'm sleep-deprived, last night's wine is still muddling around in my dehydrated brain, and I could really use a Diet Coke. I like that my hotel room is at the back of the casino, I don't have to walk through the din of people slowly spending their childrens' inheritance. (Not that I'm opposed to that, my children stand to inherit 200 Hot Wheels and some old Architectural Digests from the '70's. Aren't they lucky?)

I'm onto the scam already, though. Beautiful hotel, but not what I'm accustomed to. No desk. No coffee maker. 10 channels on TV, and two of them are about the hotel. However, great view. Even now, as I look out to the east, the first glimmers of dawn are breaking, just the bare outlines of the mountains are visible. Here's my view:

And true to form, I've already found the Sonic. It's tradition. It's a disorder, actually, but hey, potayto, potahto.
Enterprise really came through for me, too.
Economy class, my buttocks. I love free upgrades, it's good to be the king.

Great road presence, good pickup and I really feel like I belong in it.

What? You don't think they'd actually upgrade me to a Camaro from whatever econobox piece of excrement the company booked for me? Well...In fact, they did not. Because rental cars being what they are, I always have to get out-of-state plates when I travel. This time, it's an Envoy with Arizona plates. And I do feel like I belong in it, since it's the GMC version of our TrailBlazer. But still, it was a free upgrade, and I'll take it.

And in case there was any question about what a talented driver I am, note this photo from my hotel room of my park job after checking in.
You think that's bad? You should see me color!

More later, skies are pink and full of wispy clouds, have to watch the sunrise before I go to work.