Viva Las...

...Veg... ah, who am I kidding? I think the old joke goes something like, "I just flew in from Vegas and, boy, are my arms tired..."

Except actually, we actually flew in Monday night and really, I then slept for about 16 (or was it 18?) hours... and then it was time to get up and go to the AWLA and pet the kitties...

I'd say the Vegas trip was everything I wanted it to be, but I'd be lying. We started out on a bad footing -- the flight was canceled -- the [unnamed for legal reason] airline then tried to re-book us for Sunday... that would be great, except we were leaving to fly home on Monday, so that didn't work out so well for us... So, instead we got put on another flight, spent a large quantity of time in the Atlanta airport, and bing, bang, boom, instead of checking into the hotel in Vegas at dinnertime Friday evening, we instead arrived closer to 2 a.m. Saturday morning.

And that more or less set the tone for the rest of the trip...

I'll share the rotten cherry on top with you. On Sunday, we spent a nice afternoon having lunch at the Stratosphere's Top of the World (a revolving restaurant that gives one a view of the city). Point of interest: getting to the Top of the World requires going through a metal detector (the only one I've thus encountered in Vegas... clearly the belief is that the terrorists would only want to blow up the tallest structure in Sin City... or something... don't get me started on security...), which, in turn, resulted in my having to "check" my swiss army knife.

So, nice lunch, excellent view, many pictures, and then suddenly we had to dash out because we had tickets to see a show back at Planet Hollywood Hotel & Casino (not to be confused with the Planet Hollywood Restaurant, which, quite counter-intuitively is located in Caesar's). The show was quite good -- but seriously how could it not be -- the man trained housecats! I say again, trained housecats...

Anyway, the Oscars telecast (on three hours earlier in Vegas), a short nap, and then dinner later -- actually, just sitting down to dinner, and MLW suddenly remembers, "*gasp* We forgot to pick up your knife!" And literally runs away from the table. Then the food arrives. So MDFA and I make small talk with the waiter (why is it never the same waiter as your primary waiter that brings your food?) and MLW arrives back with a tale of concierge confabbing. The upshot -- all we have to do is go all the way back across to the other side of the Strip and talk to Security and we can pick up the knife. I briefly considered abandoning it... it's as not as if it's a particularly expensive knife... but, I've had it for ~25 years, and my parents gave it to me, so it was only briefly.

So MLW and I wound up doing just that (MDFA opted out... go figure...) And a few short arguments later, $7.34 lost in penny slots, visits to two different security desks, and a short stop at the MGM Gift Shop later (on the way through the lobby), and our plans for the night before we left finished off.

At this point, you may be wondering why I told you all that. (That is, presuming you're even still reading... all four of you). Well, knowing I had to get on the plane in the morning I simply packed the knife in my luggage (the bag that gets checked, not the carry-on obviously...) Packed in that same pocket, four pairs of cuff links in two tiny bags, a mini-screwdriver (with removable heads, stored separately in an old Dramamine container), and an adapter for MLW's cellphone.

So, after we were back from the AWLA (anyone remember where this story began? Anyone?) and I finally had the chance to speak to my lovely wife in 20 or so hours, and I finally get to ask if she had unpacked anything on her own or moved stuff, because, five things were missing from my checked bag: my mini-screwdriver, four pairs of cufflinks in two tiny bags, and... wait for it... my swiss army knife. And when I say "missing," I mean "stolen."

Thank you! Good Night! Elvis has left the building!