From last Thursday until last night, I was in Las Vegas — attending a wedding but also an extended gathering of associates, old friends, and long-time correspondents. I also managed to take down some notes on the event from which to blog, and you’ll be getting the highlights of those shortly. Some of the names won’t be familiar to some of you, but the bulk of folks I’m associated with should get nearly all of them, and I’ll just leave it at that. The event itself was months in the planning, both on my end and for the happy couple, the latter of whom went to enormous expense to ensure a good time, and I’d like to thank Lestat and Helena profusely for inviting me and letting me be a part of this extraordinary event. So, with that, get ready for my longest blog post to date…

I first thought that I wouldn’t be truly prepared for the trip — mainly concerned with money and being completely bored/annoyed on the plane. But, both were taken care of in time — the latter, being solved by my print production boss trading me his brand new 20 GB iPod for my old iBook. I hadn’t really listened to music on-the-go in almost 15 years, but it made the flights far more bearable than it would have been without. So, I guess I’m thanking him too.

THURSDAY:

The flight situation went fairly smooth — until I got to Newark. Basically, I got bumped from the flight from Newark to Vegas, so they put me on a flight to Minneapolis, then another to Vegas, adding 6 additional hours to my travel day, bringing it to a total of 14. As a make-good, the airline GAVE me $300, which took care of any money worries I previously had. The extra cash guaranteed a great deal of my good time. Yes, luck was definitely a lady that night.

While having to endure six mind-numbing hours in the Minneapolis airport (and, yes, I bought a shot glass there — may as well get something for the hassle), I had a couple of drinks at the airport bar, called “The Lodge.” Manned by a goofy, stringy-haired but lovable bartender named Dale, the place was decorated wall-to-wall with foreign paper currency. It also seemed a spot for regulars, almost like Cheers. Dale was also pretty generous with the booze as I realized on the second drink. When the first one seemed incredibly strong (even in addition to it being in a pint glass), I watched him pour the Jack THREE-QUARTERS of the way to the top of the glass, and then with a splash of ginger ale. Do the math and that’s a pint-and-a-half of whiskey in about 30 minutes. Somehow, I wasn’t so bored after that.

The flight to Vegas was uneventful, though I did take note of at least one aircraft alteration a la post-9/11. The cockpit door was reinforced with steel trim and also had a combination lock to get inside. It looked like a door to a safe, except that the reinforcements only cover certain sections of the door. One could have easily blown a hole through the compressed plastic remainder of the door and gotten in. But, seeing as I’m no terrorist, it’s really only an amusing hypothetical. Amusing, had I hypothetically not been on such a flight.

I got in around 2a and caught everyone just going to bed, so I ordered room service and crashed. Though, the airport shuttle driver (known as Al) was this totally spacey guy who looked a bit like Neil Heims from VCAM and was hot for the ladies, seeing as that was his main topic of choice. And, yes, it was to the extent that Al was probably not getting any, and definitely not by choice.

FRIDAY:

Woke up around 10:30a Vegas time and checked out the hotel room a bit. The Barbary Coast’s theme is more or less 19th century Victorian and, minus the not-quite-fitting wallpaper, they pulled the theme off well. I had an amazing view out my window, coming from a long angular view of The Strip going north and including Bally’s and the Eiffel Tower directly across the street, the Bellagio and its wonderful water show across from Bally’s, as well as New York New York, Paris and others further down The Strip. And its front was directly across from Caesar’s Palace, which was where a lot of the event happened so it was amazingly convenient. Oh, and I should add that the Barbary Coast’s oatmeal soap was simply bizarre. Through the trip, I had this faint odor of Quaker Oats on me. But, it was Vegas so I went with it.

It was also strange to be in a casino town again. When I lived in Reno for four months as a teenager in the mid-80s, I worked at Circus Circus on the Midway and became intimately familiar with the daily sights and sounds of a casino. When I came downstairs from my room at the Barbary Coast and was inundated with said sights and sounds, it elicited an emotional response that even surprised me. I felt… gooshy. Yeah, I know, it’s weird, I’m weird, whatever.

I had a photo shoot with “Daark” at 5p (that’s me as the subject, not the photographer) but it was early at that point and I wasn’t meeting up with the others until 8p, so I went on a quest to find the Apple Store. I knew Vegas had one and I hadn’t been to one up to that point (and, no, Small Dog doesn’t count), so I took my map and went on my pilgrimage.

The Apple Store is in the Fashion Show Mall, which was a bit of a hike from where I was. My map lied and said there was also one in Caesar’s Palace’s “Forum Shops” mall, but that turned out to be bad info. So, cutting through that mall, and then walking many blocks passing the Mirage, Treasure Island and others, I found the right mall and went in. Which reminds me: Las Vegas is teeming with tourists who A) do not look where they are going at all, and B) walk at an absurdly slow pace. Add the maddeningly complex design of the mall, and it seemed to take forever. But, I found the store on the third try and picked up an iSkin eVo 2 in black silicone for my iPod, which looks truly stunning and is functional to boot.

The weather that day and a couple of others was a lot of rain. According to the really weird cabbie who took me back to my hotel (and a guy who looked like an elderly version of VCAM’s “Bob The Rocker” — yes, it was public access TV doppelgangers everywhere), the usual 2 inches of rain a year was already at 3 inches, and it was only February. But, since most of you could suspect that I brought my trusty umbrella, it wasn’t a big deal. This particular day, there was an hour or so of fog that even obscured the tops of the New York buildings and the Eiffel Tower. FOG! In Vegas?

Cashing the $300 check from Continental Airlines was also weird. Had it done at O’Sheas (one of the Flamingo properties) and they took 45 BUCKS of it as a fee, after wanting every little detail of information on me. They even called my grandmother. But, free money is free money.

Around the time of my photo shoot, I met up with Lestat (the groom and host of the event) and we took the elevator down to the lobby to go somewhere. While there, a guy, his wife, and their kid were also riding along, and the husband took note of Lestat’s tie pin. The dialogue went something like this…

DAD: “Hey! That’s a really great star. It looks like a Texas star!”
LESTAT: “Actually, I’m FROM Texas.”
MOM [to DAD]: “Take a closer look at it, dear. That’s no Texas star.”
[MGP giggles]

Later that night, we all got together and did some bar hopping within Caesar’s (and they had a rather large number of them under their roof). We tried the Shadow bar because it sounded like a good idea and it’s a staple of the “new” Vegas. A lot of thumpy-thumpy music and annoying college kids, but the Tom Cruise wannabe “Cocktail” bartenders were unintentionally amusing and Nemo actually danced (or waltzed might be more accurate) with some Asian breast-implanted hoochie mama. I think it was her idea, but they went for a good ten minutes or so, and that provided some entertainment. Sooner or later, we ended up at the Galleria Bar (one we would pretty much favor in Caesar’s for the entire trip), which was going for the “classy lounge” vibe, and largely succeeded with a decent environment and a pianist/singer who did a lot of old standards — mainly alternating between Sinatra and, oddly enough, Stevie Wonder. The place had a lot of style, even in spite of the tacky barfly who breast-flashed everyone for a split second. At this point, we still hadn’t met up with half of our people, who were off doing their own things.

SATURDAY:

After rain delays, a lot of folks finally made it into town, including the inimitable Colonel Akula. Since he was short on time before the wedding, we stashed his luggage in my room and went across the street to meet up with the wedding party. Before we got there, some guy on the street gestured to him and I (as I was wearing my tux) and said, “Congratulations!” So, there were a lot of gay marriage jokes made at the expense of two straight guys who dress infinitely better on a daily basis than the slob tourists ever could (that aspect of tourists, being a particularly prominent topic during all of this, especially from Rex).

Lestat and Helena went for the full Caesar’s Palace treatment with this one. Officiating the wedding was Caesar himself in full regalia, along with Cleopatra and two beefy Centurions. (Incidentally, Cleopatra was HOT in her barely covering beaded outfit. And I won’t even go into that sweet little backside she had.) It was touching and goofy all at the same time, and I did get a little choked up during the ceremony, but that’s the hopeless romantic in me, I suppose. As we strolled into the wedding hall, a violinist serenaded us in procession. Her choice of songs was particularly boggling. One she played drove me, Jack, and Redstar nuts. We couldn’t figure out where it was from or why it sounded so familiar. Then, someone said horror movies, and then it hit me… “Holy crap, it’s the nude shower scene tune from An American Werewolf in London… on VIOLIN!” Then, we all busted up over that.

Lestat had “us” seated on the left-hand side, which was his little in-joke. The family scrutinized the heck out of us from the other side of the room, but that happened a lot in Vegas. For a town that thrives on the unusual and the dramatic, it seems all the stranger. I constantly got the “do you work here?” thing, and let’s not even get into Rex and the myriad responses to his sub-dermal implants. (By the way, the ladies LOVE Rex. No, really!)

The reception was more fun than a lot of us thought it would be. Dinner was free and good, though the portions were small. Fancy restaurants do that a lot. More decoration than sustenance, but a tasty chicken dinner all the same. One of the family members gave every third table a disposable camera to take random candid shots. So, Mealie and others decided to take pics of things like the butter, their chins, stuff from Stephanie’s purse, Jack’s crotch, and other assorted “what the fuck”s. I hope they enjoy our pictorial interpretation. I’m still amused by Le’rue running up to us and saying, “I just talked about nanotechnology with Caesar!”

Afterwards, we went to the Galleria Bar, socialized, and listened to more Sinatra and Wonder. Ygraine and I were the last ones left, so we hung out and chatted it up some.

SUNDAY:

I was woken up by some weird guy at my door thinking it was someone else’s — I think. He knocked a bunch of times, I asked who’s there (loudly) while looking through the peephole, he stood there for a few seconds, said nothing and walked away. Right about then, I noticed the really bad blisters I had on my feet. I went with a new pair of shoes, and once again had to “suffer for style.” Two half-dollar sized ones on the balls of each foot, and an abrasion on the top of my left foot and on the middle toe of the same foot. Probably not a crucial trip detail, but there it is.

Note to self: Invest in a digital camera that doesn’t feel like a brick in a jacket pocket.

Today was the day for the big party — what we like to call a Conclave. Lestat and Helena (for that night only) rented a reasonably large suite for the party and arranged entertainment, prizes (I won a Le’rue Delashay CD! — one I really, really wanted to pick up), free food and drinks, and more. Simply put, it was done in style (a word I was constantly using on this trip for our event stuff). The entertainment was brought to us by the folks of Thrillvania via a really fun magic show (funny, engaging, great fun — surprised a magic show could actually do that) and a four-song bellydancing performance. One word for the latter: HOT! Akula and I were practically picking our jaws off the floor.

And, yeah, we got a couple complaints from the hotel folks, but nothing big. Though, we made this on-going joke about “Shhhh”ing that is funnier to attendees than the rest of you, so I’ll leave it at that. Still, it was the Hard Rock hotel. People who are in town for peace and quiet should not pick a hotel well-known to attract far rowdier folks than us — like rock stars, bikers, etc. We were tame compared to the rep some of that place’s guests get. And, yes, the Hard Rock hotel is really, really, really cheesy. The rooms are great and had some style, but the remainder of the decor downstairs and in the halls was beyond schmaltzy. And they need to correct their wrongly-worded Prince quote in one of their elevators. The things I know.

Although I was impressed with the bulk of my associates, I really took a liking to Bryan Moore. Straight out of the 40s with style, wit, and what Jack called “enough personality for three people,” I really enjoyed our talk about aesthetics across the board. And, go buy his bronze/pewter LaVey statue. It is a work of art.

MONDAY:

You know, I actually thought I’d play some Blackjack, but I really didn’t gamble. I played the slots on two occasions just waiting for someone, but that was only $10 and I didn’t win, so I gave up. Mostly, I think it was that I was having such an incredible time, I simply didn’t think to gamble. Go figure.

I only had about five or six hours until my flight, so I went to have lunch with Jack and his boyfriend at a Mexican restaurant affectionally called Pink Taco. I really like those two and it’s so obvious that they are well-suited for each other. Plus, they’re a lot of fun, too. Oh, and all of the waitresses look identical with the same really long straight hair. Ted Bundy would have “loved” them.

Later, we did the tourist thing at the Luxor, and I picked up some Egyptian goodies for me and a couple of friends. What a kooky elevator they’ve got. It goes diagonally! Also, bonus points for Jack for pointing out the weirdly deformed guy with the head that looked like it had been squished by a Mac truck. I would have felt deprived to have missed that.

At the airport, I found out my gate was next to the one through which Nemo and his wife were exiting. We didn’t even know we’d run into each other. So, we hung out, and Nemo informed me that I was the first post-event run-in he’d ever had at an airport in all of his event attendance through the years. So, we immortalized the occasion with pictures. After they took off, I caught my flight (this one filled with high school sports girls and boys — very annoying!) and made the long trek back to Burlington.

It was a great trip. And it felt so odd coming back to Burlington. As corny as it sounds, I really feel like I left a part of me back there, though I could never live in Vegas with all the tourists and summer heat. Still, I needed a vacation away from Vermont and this one was perfect. Thank you again to Lestat and Helena for everything. That’s one gorgeous lady you’ve got there, Mister. Hang onto her.

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Ever since I was little, I’ve been a Brady Bunch fan. Not in the casual sense, but a dyed-in-the-wool fanatic with an insane knowledge of each and every episode, what season they were in, one-shot character name knowledge, extensive trivia, and the list goes on (and, yes, I even read Growing Up Brady and own their CD). When I was in bands in the 1980s, a roadie of mine and I used to “disturb” people when an episode came on by spitting out the plot synopsis within seconds of post-credits story start. (My current record is 4 seconds.) To say I know this five-season show like the back of my hand is a vast understatement.

Since my entrance into the double-digit ages, I was always bothered by some inconsistencies and at least one mystery about the Ranch House. (Pic above is the house in its 1969-1974 incarnation.) Whether we work with the show perspective of the house or the aerial shot below taken years later, the same concerns still exist. And, yes, I’m aware that interiors were shot on a set and not in this particular house, but this is a TV show that established that it take place in this house, so let’s all suspend disbelief for an entry and follow me on this one…

In the show, the Brady home had two floors and an attic. The first inconsistency was established in two separate episodes about a couple of seasons apart. A discussion between the parents, when Greg wanted his own room and ended up getting Dad’s study temporarily, revealed that the “attic” had a height of only a few feet and was implied to be more or less a crawlspace of sorts. In another episode, when Greg and Marcia fought for the “attic” room, and Greg got it, the attic magically turned into a full-sized room. What gives?!

Anyhoo, take another look at the house layout. Although the level above the first does indeed extend towards the back, it is a slanted-roof level. In no episodes are the upstairs bedrooms following a slanted wall pattern. In fact, they are square-shaped like the downstairs rooms. Therefore, the “second floor” conflict remains just that. It shouldn’t be there, or the roof should be over a squared second floor. Madness!

There’s also the “mystery room.” At the top of the stairs to this confounding second floor, the hallway takes a sharp right followed by a sharp left, which only explains that the hallway runs perpendicular to the first floor, but still doesn’t explain away the roof thing and the lack of room for the hallway’s adjacent rooms. Before all of this, there is a door to the immediate left. it is never entered and never acknowledged in any episode of the show. If you look at the Ranch House shot, there is a room over the living room with a window that more than implies a room behind it. What’s in this room? Why does no one acknowledge it? Maybe it’s where Tiger went and no one cared to check? It’s not the parents’ room because that’s next to the boys’ room to the right of the long hallway. I tell you, it’s enough to drive a Brady fan bananas!

Of course, there’s the other stuff, like Bobby’s magical hair color change after the first season, the whole Tiger disappearance, the fact that Mom NEVER said in any episode the words, “don’t play ball in the house” (even if she “always” said it, according to Bobby), and still more stuff. But, this whole mystery room and inconceivable second floor thing seems to be a far bigger dilemma. If I ever meet Sherwood Schwartz, I’ll get the truth out of him one way or another, so help me Johnny Bravo!

Oh, and my favorite Brady is Jan, in case you were wondering. Favorite episode? Why, the Buddy Hinton one, of course.

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