Vegas: Countdown to Death

Somewhere in the middle of my second day in Vegas, I find myself walking under the constructed ivory metal sky of the Fremont Experience. I like the honesty of Downtown in the light of day. On the strip, with its polished marble and posh themed casinos, the illusion of Vegas is too easily preserved. Butas the Walmart shoppersshuffle past the now dated downtown facades, you know that this town was built on people risking money they can little afford to lose on a temporary non-lifealtering dream.Anequally sad and optimisticDido melodyhangs in the air; a song that clutches ontothe silverlining of an otherwise joyless life. And yetin this moment, I love dowtown for all that it is and isn’t.

I am looking for a wifi hotspot where I can do my radio show. Although a few were mentioned in my google search,finding wifi downtown is turning out to be as elusive as a million dollar craps run seeded on a $10 bankroll. I have already played one satellite for the Women’s UPC event with pathetic result. Being able to rationalize with phrases like “I had outs”or “I had them dominated” just isn’t cutting it for me lately.I just don’t “feel” it. I’m beginning to wonder what it will take to free my NLHE game from its current purgatory. While I want to play another, I realize I’m just not going to be able to squeeze another one in before my show; which I finally concede I will have to do by cell phone. The fact that I also see Susie Isaacs and Carolyn Ford at tables also convinces me this may all be for the best.

The Poker Shrink signed up for the Binions2:00pm tournament and wasstill plodding along when I got back from my fruitless wifi voyage. I sit down at the video poker bar and within a half hour, I cash out up $90.The Shrink’s tourney is down to two tables. With anotherthirty minutes to kill before the show, I sit downat another video poker machine and cash out up another $50. I begin my show from Fremont Street, but have to migrate to the darkened sidestreets as Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” begins to pump from “the experience,” with visions of hard body construction workers occupying Vegas’ equivalent of the Sistine Chapel.Yakking into my cell phone,I fit in with theother solitary sidestreet inhabitants; spewing a verbal stream ofnon sequiturs.

Aftermy show, I find Poker Shrink among theFremont Street masses. Hewas part of thesix way chop; proving once again that the Shrink only cashes when the boyz don’t own a piece of him.

Like Graceland’s shag green carpets and yellow vinyl seating,Downtown has changed little over the years. But as the Shrink and I wait at a Fremont Street crosswalk, I notice one new addition. The crossing lights have a new feature; theycountdown the amount of time people have to cross before the oncoming trafficclaims the right to plowthem down. I don’t usually like change invading my nostalgic space. But somehow this countdown to death blends in with the stark realities of the downtown that I love.

This entry was posted on Saturday, February 10th, 2007 at 3:09 am and is filed under Uncategorized.