“Shock”tober, Vegas Style or the Beginning of the End?

“Oh, America. I wish I could tell you that this was still America. But I’ve come to realize that you can’t have a country with out people. And there are no people here.” - Zombieland

Welcome to Las Vegas. At 131 Square Miles and a population of over 500,000 in the city proper (over 1,000,000 in the Metro Area), it’s a close knit town. Well, sorta.

Still, Las Vegas is America’s party town. People come here to do the kinds of things that you can do in just about any major city, but we won’t look down on you for it. Hell, it's how we all make a living. If you like to party, booze it up, get your freak on, or get it on with a freak, LV (America’s Armpit) is the place to go.

While the Strip is the place most folks talk about, it isn’t really my scene. To me, the Strip is like dinner at a fancy restaurant - don’t bother if you aren’t wearing a jacket and don’t like to look down on the little people.

No thanks.

Fremont Street is wear I run. It has the atmosphere of a college keg party, and for pure entertainment value, the Strip doesn’t touch it.

Free concerts almost every night? Yup. Talented entertainers that don’t cost an arm and a leg? Bingo. Booze that’s dirt cheap? Hell yes.

But Halloween is a special time on Fremont Street. Sure, on any given day you can see folks in costume. But nearing the 31st, it becomes a dream for people who love All Hallows Eve.

That’s right folks, we’ve got it all. From zombies (shit tons of them, given a boost by the zombie walk on the strip) to girls  in hot costumes and dudes wearing dresses, there’s a little bit here for everyone. Ninja turtles seemed popular, and for some damn reason I saw a LOT of panda bears. Seriously. WTFs with that?

But what I noticed the most were the couples. While Halloween has traditionally been a holiday for the kids, filled with ghost stories and lots of sweets, it seems to me that it’s become a tradition for people in love.

So many of the costumes went together. Kings had their queens, Lucy had her Ricky (in black n white, of course), and Red Riding Hood had her Big Bad Wolf. Smiles were a plenty and there was lots of kissing and PDA. Can’t fault people in love.

Some highlights of the night were sexy storm troopers  showing bare midriffs and wonderful curves (Lucas, why didn’t you think of this),  the gingerbread man, and an adorable little gal dressed as Belle from Beauty and the Beast (she got her picture taken with some soldiers - seeing little Belle with a huge gun was super cute). Why was this kid out a 00:45? Oh, and the remote control Jigsaw riding the tricycle was pretty damn sweet.

The fun and cuteness just seemed to emphasize something that’s been nagging at me. I don’t belong here. Kids? Cute, but I miss Caleb and hate that I can't get him out here sooner. Couples? Hah. I’m alone here, at least until someone gets off her ass and comes out to me. Costumes? I don't think so, Tim.

And while I don’t feel so great about that, given what I saw here tonight, it may not be a bad thing. Not having someone that I'm attached to here could potentially save my life.

You see, all fun and cuteness aside, it seems that the college atmosphere of Fremont Street may have gotten out of hand tonight. At least, I hope that’s all it was. Because tonight, I may have been witness to the start of one of the greatest fears of my generation - the zombie apocalypse.

We’ve all thought about it. The possibility of some sort of virus that drives people mad and turns vegans into flesh eating psychos is there on the fringes of our minds. But what if it’s not just a fear? What if it isn’t just some silly notion?

Case in point, the gentleman I met tonight. We’ll call him Bryant in order to maintain his anonymity. Hopefully, my respect for his privacy won’t doom us all.

I met Bryant in the bathroom of the Fitzgerald while I was washing my hands. He stumbles in, pain and confusion etched on his face. His hand is covered in blood.

“Holy shit man,” I said. “What happened?”

“This crazy bitch just grabbed my hand and bit me!”

Isn’t that how it always starts in the movies?

Bryant’s story was a bit out of the norm on fair Fremont Street. There are plenty of whorish girls, traipsing about is short skirts looking to get their mouth on something. There are plenty inebriated men and women making out and nibbling each other’s necks. But a full on bite? Near Halloween no less?

Hmmm.

I turned on the water for him and told him to get it cleaned up. It was swollen and a bit purple where she had bit him. Hopefully, all it will do is leave a nasty scar.

“Why the hell she bite you?”

Bryant took a moment to answer. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I was drinking my beer and she went to grab it. I pulled my hand away. Then she just grabbed my wrist and bit down!”

I’m hoping that this ghoul was just a very drunk chica. However, I would question the likelyhood of a person chomping down on a guys hand because he didn’t give her his beer. I wonder if somehow, she caught the virus and that it was starting to get to her.

Sorry for the poor image quality and total lack of blood. It didn't occur to me to get a picture until after it took the picture. That big purple blotch on his hand is the bite, right by his vein, and it was f'ing deep. There was a lot of blood and I apologize for my lack of foresight.

That being said, Las Vegas is not a physically large town. Like sardines is the way we’re packed in this little valley. If there is going to be an outbreak, what a great place for it to start. Awful convenient, I’d say.


So, if you find that a great, unmentionable disaster afflicts the 702 over the next few days, you heard it here first. If Sin City is placed under quarantine for an unknown reason, you’ll know why.

Hopefully, this is just an isolated incident. Hopefully, nothing will come of it. Hopefully, all of you who love Halloween will get to come out here and experience it for yourselves. I can promise you, there isn’t anything like it in the USA.

Then again...we may not be here next year. If the mystery girl who chowed on Bryant’s hand is patient zero, well, hopefully the slogan will be right. Hopefully, what happens in Vegas will stay in Vegas.

Happy Halloween everyone.

Fish Bowls

*NOTE: This post was originally posted on whenthemusesspeak.blogspot.com which is where I write pretty much whatever comes to mind. It's alright there, but it seems to be more fitting here. I suppose.

I went to Towne Square to buy some Oolong Tea from a shop
called Teavana. It's an excellent shop, with a great selection and
knowledgeable employees. Not only did I get a tasty beverage, but I got
enough oolong to last me a few weeks.

The benefits of oolong tea are interesting. According to Chinese folks, it
makes you thin. The people at Teavana tell me that it helps you process
carbs. This isn't true.

In actuality, oolong tea inhibits your body from absorbing fat and
cholesterol. It also produces an interesting side effect. Your body, when
burning energy, will go after your fat stores rather than a more readily
available source - your muscle.

I'll admit, the employees explanation is more marketable. It's a lot easier
to say that something helps you process carbs than all the information I
just gave. So I can't fault them.

But I digress. After receiving my tea, in both drinkable and brewable form,
I sat down with a book and relaxed a bit.

I enjoyed the travel writings of Paul Theroux. I sat tensed, ready to spring as a
small child (maybe 1 or so) nearly walked into the street as her preoccupied
mother chatted with a friend. I breathed a sigh of relief when the mother
grabbed her, the car heading toward her hit its brakes, and a very bad thing
was averted.

Would I have been quick enough if the mother had not been? I don;t know. I'm
not as fast or limber as I used to be. I'm just happy it didn't have to be
tested.

Again, I digress and turn my attention to people watching.

Las Vegas, when you get right down to it, is little more than a barren
desert. We get our water from somewhere else, and the trees we enjoy in Sin
City are usually of the palm variety, which means it's actually a type of
grass (look it up if you don't believe me).

But real grass in this dust bowl is at a premium and many places substitute
AstroTurf. Neighborhoods have this cheap, green fabric, and so does Towne
Square. And the local couples flock to it; it's one of the things I find
interesting in this otherwise cesspool of a town.

Las Vegas, to me and many others, is a place to go to create some sort of a
memory. And while our marketing geniuses will tell you that what happens
here stays here, it  makes me wonder about the people who call the town home. What kind of place is this to live if you're young (or old, for that matter) and in love?

What is there to do? Where is there to go? What kind of memories can you
make?

You can go to Mt Charleston for real green, but the average tourist won't be
doing that. You can visit Lake Meade for your water fix, but even that is
man made. So does that mean that all of our potential memories are false?

No. And I debated this with myself for awhile, but the only answer I can
give is no. The memories you'll take back from Vegas, while built on fake
grass or quick drying concrete, are not fake. We are a town of masks; nothing truly fake, but you never really see what's real.

Towne Square has the quaint, pretty little setting. There are light strung up and a small gazebo. Plenty of tables and benches are there for you to relax on. Or you can just lay on the "grass" near the water.

The water is designed to be a like a small brook, complete with a sort of little island. There is a little bridge that goes over it and the rocks are all fake (or at least covered by some kind of sprayed on concrete, which lends them the look). In all, watching the happy couples laying in each others arms, it give a true sense of serenity.

And it reminds me of a fish bowl. Fake plants, rocks and cheap decorations make the fish feel safe and at home. This is what Towne Square is like as well. In fact, much of Vegas is like this.

Think about it. Caesar's Palace is designed to look like something out of Roman history. The Luxor harkens back to ancient Egypt. And the Venetian is meant to whisk you off with its romantic vision of Venice (it fails because the water is much cleaner than the real thing).

And while all of these things are false, it doesn't make the memories you can make here any less real. In our little fishbowl, in the middle of the desert, you can enjoy sites and sounds from around the world.

Here, we have the Eiffel Tower, castles and pirate ships. And while none of these can compare to the real thing, it's a lot cheaper and the pictures are just as lovely.

So back to my point. What does this mean for the people who call Las Vegas home? It's simple.

We have the world at our finger tips. And people from all walks of life, from all over come here just to see what we've managed to carve out. It's a paradise in a wasteland. It's a fishbowl in the bedroom of America.

Plus, we got tons of hookers.

WTF (what's this for)?

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, wondering to myself why it is that I do some of the things that I do. Why I feel this need to be outdoors or this near unbearable urge to be away and in situations where I am alone or in some sort of danger.

Am I an adrenaline junky? Do I need to feel alive? No, that isn't it. Do I hate people and being around them? No. I rather like people.

So what is it? Why do I do the things that I do, and what's the point of it?

I'm starting to realize that no matter who says that they love me, or how many friends claim to "get me", they never really will. Because my answer makes it difficult for people to accept me.

The point of the things that I do is fairly simple. I do them to do them. Why? I don't really know, and it doesn't really matter.

Oh, it matters to everyone else. But I do things because something in me says it needs to be done. The question "why" makes me feel childlike because the only response I can come up with is "because".

I have met some amazing people in my life and shared time with some amazing, lovely women. But I don't honestly believe that there is a woman, or even a friend of any gender really, that could accept this about me. It doesn't make a lot of sense and I'm aware of that.

Do I think I'll grow old and die alone. Actually, no, I don't. But I think that marriage will be an adventure for another time. Perhaps if I meet a gal who is willing to hike the Appalachian Trail with me I'll have found the one.

Oh, and I'm not talking about walking on part of the trail. I'm talking about the whole damn thing. Over 2000 miles. At typical speed, you're talking about 6 months. Why would I even want to do that?

Because it's there. Hell, my question would be, why not?

The things that I do, and at a more basic level the things I seem to want(I guess, though it could be the other way around) make sense to me only because they "FEEL" right. I'm not necessarily talking about emotions, either. It's tough to explain.

I guess it's like finding someone you know you want to spend the rest of your life with(you know, until you realize that he has no definable direction and only answers your questions with "because" or "I don't know"). That initial feeling of, "this is right". That's how it feels for me. It just feels right.

And it's one of the only things in my life that has felt right without wavering. It has its share of stresses involved (like thinking you might plummet to your death or getting lots of cuts and bruises from stumbling into those DAMN thorn bushes that seem to be all over out here), but when all is done, I feel right.

That's what matters to me. Feeling right. With my world and myself. Try it. You might like it.

RE: It's Over

Howdy folks. Today's post isn't the usual "hey look what I did today" post. Oh, I have been out exploring. A few weeks ago I took a hike near Lake Meade and went over to the Hoover Dam. I walk the old rail road route, going through the tunnels and got some great pictures. I might put some up eventually, but my internet connect here isn't the best, so it might be awhile.

I also went climbing out at Red Rock Canyon last week. It was beautiful out and once again, I got some great pictures. I know, it feels like I'm dangling a treat in front of you, and I will get the pics up as soon as I can.

While on my climb, I zoned out, climbed and climbed, then realized, "Oh crap, I have no idea how I got up here and can't seem to get down." It was embarrassing, but I had to call search and rescue and got picked up by a helicopter. It was pretty cool and while I don't have pictures of the chopper, I do have a few of my view. Some of them are blurry, but you can kind of see the park ranger's vehicles in the distance.

But anyway, the title of this post actually refers to a post I made awhile back. It was a post about running the Las Vegas marathon.

I've given this a lot of thought and something occurred to me. I've been doing things for pretty much my whole life that I didn't really want to do, just so I could get some kind of recognition.

Recognition is great, but shouldn't be from something special to me? I hate running. Why the hell would I even suggest that as an option? Because I thought "Oh look at me. Look how great I am. I'm going to run for charity or something. Blah blah blah."

**************NOTE*********************
PARENTS, PUT THE KIDS TO BED FOR THIS ONE. THIS RANT CONTAINS FOUL LANGUAGE FROM THIS POINT ON. I REALIZE THAT IT'S A DEVIATION FROM MY STANDARD POST, BUT IT NEEDS TO COME OUT.

YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.
**************END NOTE****************

Fuck. That. I am sick of doing things just to get some kind of attention from everyone else. If you don't like me for who I am, I understand. I didn't either. But I'm working on that.

If the only thing that makes you say "Wow, what great guy" is the various bullshit that I come up with to make myself look good, fuck you.

From now on, I'm going to do the things I want to do. If I want to "Fuck this job" I'm going to do it and I'm going to leave. If I want to say "Fuck you and your bullshit, media marketed American Dream" I'm going to say it (just did). If you think that I'm not a "complete person" just because I don't think it's right to waste my life doing the same dumb shit everyone else does, fuuuuuuck you!

I'm going to walk to my own beat from now on. I'm going to follow my own heart and thought process. Your idea of the American Dream is nothing but a waste of time and money. You pacify yourself with the latest gadgets and gizmos. You suck on the nipple of commerce. I love capitalism, but it's been so twisted by the propaganda machine that most people think that they aren't patriotic unless they go out and blow half a paycheck at the local Wal-Mart.

Fuck that.

This blog is here to show you some of the things that I'm doing with my life and where my sense of adventure takes me. But why are you reading this when you could be out there doing the same things I do? Stop making excuses! If you think money is an issue, stop spending your money on pointless shit just so you can look good for everyone else!

If your issue is time, make the damn time. Get off your ass. Stop blowing half your day watching some bullshit tv show that really isn't anything more than clever advertising. Stop wasting your time exploring in a virtual world and go out and explore the real one.

TV, videogames, movies, the internet.....they're all entertaining. I know. But you can't waste your short life living vicariously through these mediums. If you find yourself staring at pictures of the ocean, mountains or trees, get outside. Your body craves. It needs it.

I imbibe in all of the above. I enjoy movies, games, and the net (obviously). But not everyday. I spend more time outside than I do inside daydreaming about adventure. And you know what, real adventure is everywhere. You have NO excuse not to go have one.

Gas? Nope. Fucking walk. Money? It doesn't cost anything to go for a hike, and you can find a bicycle on craiglist for next to nothing. And don't give me any shit about not having the latest and greatest. You don't NEED it. You've only been told that you do.

Want inexpensive travel around the country (or the world)? You don't need an expensive hotel. Do you want to go to Paris, or Ireland, or England, or Thailand just to spend your trip in the hotel? Hell no. Then why waste the money. For true adventure, all you need is a place to sleep at night and maybe recharge your camera (if you have one). And hell, if you're in the right place, you can just sleep out under the sky.

You WILL die someday, and you have no idea when. You might not even make it through the day or even through this post (though I hope you make it through the post). So go live a little. Please.

Because I won't live forever, and you can't always tag along with me. One slip while I'm hiking the trail, one crumbling hand hold that I can't regain while I'm climbing, or just tripping when I get out of bed in the morning - any of this could do it for me.

Don't live in a world of media and useless knick-knacks. Go out and live in the world. It's much more exciting and it'll cost you a lot less money. You have no excuses. And neither do I.

Fuck that marathon. If I'm going to run it'll be because I need to jump over a gap in the canyons. If I'm going to run it'll be from being chased by a bear or a pissed off biker (free, but if you get caught there is the doctor's bill to think about). I'm not running for recognition from anyone, and I don't really have much of a desire to do it. So I won't.

I'd rather be hiking.