by Pa Rock
Weary Walker
We have been up the Strip and down the Strip today, putting several miles on my old tennies. The group included myself, my son Nick, my other son, Tim, and his fiance Erin Pater, and my daughter, Molly Files, and her husband Scott. My nephew, Reed Smith, joined us in the mall at Planet Hollywood and spent the rest of his Saturday showing us through the glittering maze that is the Las Vegas Strip.
One of the first attractions that we encountered was the dancing fountains at the Belagio. I have never seen the new version of the movie, Ocean's Eleven, but I understand that those choreographed waters were featured in it. Today the waters were dancing to Frank Sinatra's vocal rendition of Luck Be A Lady Tonight. We also strolled through the Belagio and toured a beautiful indoor spring flower garden with tulips and poppies galore. And then there was the candy shop with its massive chocolate fountain. The Belagio is a "must see" for anyone coming to Vegas.
Our next stop was an outdoor bar at Caesar's Palace where we rested and refreshed. The only alcohol that has slipped past my lips on this trip was a Bailey's Shake yesterday which was delicious - as it should have been for $7.50! But people were walking up and down the street drinking well before noon - it's that kind of place! Big mixed drinks in unique plastic containers are everywhere. A person can buy a yard of daiquiri in what looks to be a three-foot flower vase. There ware also large plastic guitars and replicas of the Eiffel Tower with straws coming out of their tops for classy booze consumption while navigating the Strip.
The Forum Shops in Caesar's are amazing. They are enlcosed in an enormous in-door mall with Roman statuary and fountains around every corner. The ceilings are two stories high domed affairs painted and backlit to resemble the sky. It does give the feeling of walking through ancient Rome on a partly cloudy day with a very international, camera-toting, population.
Caesar's was where we had our only celebrity sighting of the day. Former baseball bad boy, Pete Rose, was holed up in a storefront signing autographs for pay. We stopped and took his picture, in much the same way that one would take a picture of a simian pulling lice off of itself at the zoo. Old Pete looked old, really old, Pa Rock old! Reed commented on the irony of the Hall-of-Famer-Wannabe signing autographs for pay at Caesar's in Las Vegas! (He probably used his breaks to run upstairs and check his bets!)
Our next stop was the Venetian where we watched the gondola's make their way slowly up and down the Grand Canal which flows through the center of the hotel-casino complex. The Venetian, like the Belagio and Caesar's Palace, is elegant to a fault. One of the unique features at the Venetian is a spiral escalator, not something that one is likely to see in stodgy old New York or Chicago.
On the way back toward our hotel, The Tropicana, we passed two long lines of what Tim and I decided to call "clickers." These were men and women who were handing out business cards for the prostitutes. They would slap the cards on their wrists or click them together making a very distincitve rattling sound. Any tourist who made eye contact with a clicker got a couple of cards - and once a person accepted one guy's cards, everybody else gave them theirs as well. Needless to say, the sidewalks and streets are littered with glossy photos of other people's daughters.
The working girls also place advertisements in small throw-away newspapers that some of the clickers hand out. These are commonly referred to as "the sporting pages!" If all of that doesn't free a person of their virtue, there are billboard trucks cruising the Strip with huge photos of "Hot Babes" along with phone numbers. And then there are the more ambitious vixen who walk right up and proposition the rubes. One member of our party was approached in the casino last night by a woman who offered to follow him to his room for three hundred dollars!
I also noted some fine literary efforts during our outing today. There was a vagrant sitting on the overpass outside of our hotel with a box for donations. His sign read simply, "Why lie? I need a beer." A young man passed us wearing a t-shirt that proudly proclaimed "Fuck Milk! Got Pot?" And then there was the old fellow - at least ten years my senior - who made his statement by carrying a ghetto blaster that was pounding out music from the sixties!
It was an exciting day. Tonight I plan to lay around and watch my feet swell!
