Cha-Ching

What a golden time we had in Las Vegas! We had a great room in Paris Hotel, beautiful views, and our package included continental breakfasts from 7-11 and drinks and appetizers from 5-8. The breakfast was bagels, lox, cream cheese, onions and capers, watermelon, cantaloupe and honeydew, croissants and pastries, yogurt and granola, teas, coffees and juices, just about everything except bacon and eggs. The appetizers at night included mini-sandwiches, pastas, empanadas, and everyone was pouring themselves big stiff drinks to start their night.


We checked out the new City Center on Thursday, which MGM bought after Dubai decided they'd had enough. Pretty nice hotels and casinos, high end, and architecture reminiscent of Gehry in Bilbao.

Here I am getting rubbed out.





Thursday night we went to Palazzo to see ‘The Jersey Boys,’ but BestofVegas.com muffed our order. After an hour on the phone, I got it straightened out, and we had two premium tickets waiting for us at will call. We spent the night frittering away dollars at the slots. We never did win, but we didn’t lose much, less than planned, and we had a good time.


We rented a Mustang convertible for the last two days, so Friday we drove out to Red Rock Canyon and had a picnic.











At one of the overlooks we were by ourselves, and 'Kiss' by Prince came on, and next thing you know we are boogeying down, radio blaring, golden!







Friday night we saw a comedy act that was pretty funny. The venue was shoddy, and we had front row seats in the VIP section (Very Insultable People), but luckily there was a big baby-faced guy sitting next to me, and he was the chosen foil. Front-row seats are not what they’re cracked up to be, because you are straining your neck to see.

Saturday we drove out to the Pinball Hall of Fame, a big hall filled with machines from all the eras of arcades. We played a few of the old classics, and some of the newer styles, Dana held her own while exclaiming ‘Ohh!’ repeatedly, and all at a cost of $10. We probably saved $100 by not gambling. We then drove downtown and gambled a bit at some of the older casinos, the ones with lower limits and better odds. No comment.

Back to the Palazzo for ‘The Jersey Boys,’ and we had tenth row center seats, perfect. The show was fabulous. It is the story of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, music slightly before my time, but most of the songs were very familiar. The show was great, the guy playing Frankie Valli was voted best singer in Vegas, a very crisp production. We had some drinks in the nightclub, and then drove off-strip to dinner at Envy, a noted steakhouse. Dinner was excellent, and after dinner we cruised up and down the Strip with the top down and rock and roll blaring from our radio. We were voted the ‘Coolest Cruisers’ by Las Vegas Review, capping off a great last evening in Vegas.

The most important thing for me on this trip was that Dana and I reconnected in some ways, and I feel hopeful that the future includes our relationship. It was also important for me to have a good time without the travel angst I often carried around, and I succeeded to some extent.




When we got back, lovely Lia had an Easter dinner of roast lamb ewe could die for, scalloped potatoes from Eden, and asparagus spears on a bed of angels and baby hair. Mmmm, delicious, and so beautiful it was difficult to eat.

I will get a CT scan on Thursday to see if the reduction in immunosuppression is having any effect, reducing the leukemic masses in my pancreas. I do feel slightly more anemic, sleeping a little more, not much energy. Press on.


Poem I wrote called

Flea Market in My Head

The full moon charges up the sky,
lands right in my eye,
and I think, ‘Where am I?’
Then I sense my being,
my pains, my scraping hip sending
groans out of me,
my swollen gut, cramped and gassy,
the aches in my back from my misfiring pancreas,
and I realize I am still alive.
In full moonlight, I give thanks
for another day, for family
and love and friends and doctors.
I try not to count the days remaining,
who knows anyway, miracles happen,
and once that starts my mind is
a flea market, and once inside I am
jumping from booth to booth.
I am at Rocky Hill flea market, and the flea market in Monastiraki in Athens,
and the Rastro in Madrid,
and the big one outside Valencia,
and the one in Malaga with all the African stuff,
and I am searching all the booths
for that special something,
cheap tools, organic vegetables, drums that smell bad,
antiques, the love of a woman,
local jewelry, counterfeit brand name clothing,
around I go, did I pay Mastercard,
how should I have played those pocket Jacks,
can the Celtics still win?
The moon stares me down and charges me up,
around the market I go,
doughboys covered in confectionary sugar like
Jonathan Winter’s hair, caramel apples that can
take out your fillings and remove crowns,
is my Mom alright,
fried snickers, kettle corn, bad bad things,
what does it matter, they can’t kill me.
Booths filled with cheap CDs, old vinyls,
racks of mystery novels, Harlot’s Kin romances,
what is that thing on the dog,
titillation, porn mags if you’re bold enough to ask.
Inside my head it all swirls around,
can’t be stopped, the earth is a big spinning flea market,
and I am drawn into booths that have what I need,
what I love, old broken-down things,
who knows what they were used for when complete,
but they could not be discarded,
someone might want them, they are here to
swirl around my brain,
to glisten in the moonglow, to ride a beam
into my eye, into my head.
In my brain I am hoarding things,
I am moon-addled, making piles in the
corridors of my mind, stacks of National Geographics and
New Yorkers, I love the cartoons,
did I lock the car, what is that scraping noise,
is that a mouse, I am
making piles of memories
and images and moments and faces and voices,
and I worry that if there was a fire in my brain,
could I get out, or would I
trip on a ferry ride to Greece, or over that dog Chip
we had for a few weeks,
would I burn up in the fire of my swirling mind,
and the moon won’t let go, so I
get up and make some tea and browse
the flea market in my head
until the sun finally comes up and
I start another day.