The Miraclest Milestone

Mondays what sort of things really happen on Mondays besides the return to the rattle and hum of those excess cells you've been carrying around in your brain all weekend for no good reason other than its what affords you your free time, that is unless you're in Vegas on a Monday. I left my bunker at the Downtowner motel and headed for the gold-rush of that casino with the big screen over the walkway thing (I'm a real stickler for names), and walked and walked and walked unbeknownst to me it was a good 4 miles to "the" strip we all know as "Vegas". Yeah I walked it in my Clarks slip ons and I had the friction wounds the next day to prove it, but did I care? of course not I was in Vegas and I was supposed to leave all that grumbling there and never tell you that I did that, but now I did so there! 

    Back to walking; once on the strip I started stopping into random casinos and playing video poker for the free beer slowly and increasingly inebriated-ly I made my way towards the tall ones (again the names thing) and once I did and had my fill of watching tourists gawk at the absurdity and excess of it all I asked a scantly clad hostess where one finds fun on a Monday "down the miracle mile" she said in that Hawaiian Tropic kind of pronunciation old men go weak in the knees over. Off I went not wanting to get too close to her spray tan and flammable hair. The destination was some sports bar called Cheerleaders for beer pong for which I arrived right on cue to jump in the next game with the servers and bartenders as they closed the place down. Me being the decidedly the contestant from the farthest away cause quite a stir when I preceded to school them all in a little game we call Beruit back there in New Jersey(at least when I learned). They were defenseless to my no look fade away from 10 feet. Sorry I am getting carried away, I played for too long and went home to sleep at a very unreasonable hour considering I had to be out by 11 am from the motel. Home safe I made my plans for the drive to LA that will carry my words on the next yarn.....

Viva Las Smegma

Its official! Vegas Sucks. Well ok the first time I was there it was a lot of fun but then again this time I was all to my lonesome, but again I am way ahead of myself. So I left Colorado at noon and decided I wasn't gonna stop till the city that "set my soul on fire" was attained by yours truly. I had had some contact with peoples that inhabit that fair city but when I hit town it was late and decided I would fend for myself partly out of the curiosity that perhaps I would actually stumble upon someone needing help on the floor of a casino and they would thank me profusely then tip me with a 10,000$ chip, didn't happen. But again I am ahead of the story.

    Like I said it was a long stretch on the road and my eyes were a but tired, it was so dark when the sun set that I had a hard time seeing the edge of the road and at 75 miles an hour I was almost out-driving my headlights which was scary but did I slow down..nope. Well moonless was the night and as I got closer to the time at which I had calculated I would be getting to Vegas I thought to myself "self the moon looks like it is going to rise nicely tonight" followed by "wow the moon sure is bright on the horizon".  It wasn't for a few minutes but I came too realize that that ain't no moon its the city slowly making an entrance as it were into my cognition. WOW very nifty it was.  So as I approached the steadily rising "moon" I was struck by the City that gonna set my heart on fire. 

    I pulled into the seedy part of town knowing full well the balance of comfort, safety and cost ignoring the first two right off the bat I found a greasy spoon with 35$ rooms. Let me offer you a word about 35$ rooms you get the strange and almost tangible feeling that unholy things have been carried out in the space you pay for. At-least the cheap places make no bones about it unlike the expensive ones that make sure you don't know what happened but non-the-less it did. (sorry that was gross) I decided after settling in and taking a shower that I would walk around at 11pm on a monday "what kind of trouble awaits" and this is where I shall leave you till the next installment which won't take as long as these two I promise!

Where I left off was several months and miles ago...

So now here I am again like a whale resurfacing for air I come to Blogspot to full ya'll in and hopefully be more conscientious about this thing.  I was driving west on highway 70 out of the wondrously wooly wide open spaces of the western Colorado slope when I remembered wise words from my uncle John and pulled off in Grand Junction to buy a can of fix a flat and something else that I can't recall at the moment but I do remember that I was listening to the radio and the Del McCrory Band was being interviewed and playing some tunes one of which is my favorites by a British artist named Richard Thompson the song was '52 Vincent. The original is a very folksy tale of a motorbike, it's owner and a red head named Molly I won't spoil the end but its agoodun. Anyway it sticks in my mind because a bluegrass version of it makes sense but only a voice like Del could pull it through. This tangent serves two points; first its music and second I'm antsy at this point in my journey to get out to LA and see what my fortune holds. 

   The next roadside attraction was of course Green River which I doubt is the same city and state as I am sure there are a few, but see there's this CCR tune about Green River and I was hoping that the muse of serendipity would cue ti up on the radio as I drove quickly by, she didn't. Somewhere south of there I picked up the 15 which sends one down the road of no return if you have a gambling problem cause once your on 15 you don't want to stop until you hit the big lights.  Much to the dismay of some of my friends I didn't stop in any of the national parks of which in this particular sector of the country there are an abundance of (on the way back?). I am not sure as to the name of it but 15 passes through a range that I have definitely seen portrayed as a series of old 50's Chevy's with their grills point up to the sky it looks just like that minus the definition of car front ends. More like flying saucers laying one on the next as if they were knocked off kilter in an uproarious game of dominos where the aliens lost to the dinosaurs and then were eaten and the ships turned to stone but I digress. And might I add still very good at run on sentences, did I ever tell you about the time that.....