Day 13 – our final day – was a lot of driving.  Kinda like day 12. That said, we did have one stop on the way.  Thorncrown Chapel in Eureka Springs, Arkansas is world famous as one of the most beautiful churches in the world.  It is nestled in the middle of a backwoods Arkansas town, which is itself in the Ozarks.  Its walls are made of glass such that you can see 360 degrees around you into the beautiful woods.  I’m afraid our pictures do not do it justice.  If you are ever in the area, you should go see it. 

After the church we dined at the local Pancake House.  Very average, save for the fried pies for dessert.  Josh and I each got a fried pie, which is essentially the same as you get from McDonalds but 100 times better.  I had the peanut butter, and it was to die for – hot, gooey, fatty goodness.  I was particularly happy because it completed the fried trifecta of lunch – onion rings for appetizer (shared), chicken fried steak for entrée, and fried pie for dessert.  Actually, I had french fries for a side, too.  It’s vacation, so I don’t feel bad, and I know this is a temporary diversion from the voluntary calorie restriction program I’ve been on since January.

Day 13 is memorable for at least one other thing, though.  We made it 5,224 miles – over 75 hours – without running afoul of law enforcement.  During mile 5,225, however, the law finally caught up with us in the form of Oklahoma State Trooper Jackson Childress.  I was hurtling down Interstate 40 without a care in the world in the morning of Day 13.  I may have been a touch above the speed limit.  But seriously, I emphasize only a touch.  Little did I know that I-40 in Oklahoma is a zero tolerance speeding zone.  Officer Childress pulled me over for 80 in a 75.  He was everything I picture Oklahoma State Troopers to be – tall, square jaw, broad shoulders, etc.  He was also incredibly nice, however, and recognizing that we are dumb tourists just trying to make it home before we kill each other, let us go with a warning.  We learned our lesson, though, and drove much more carefully.  Seriously.

A short 17 hours later we pulled back into the Marshall Homestead in Sigel, PA.  All in all we had traversed seventeen states in some fashion – Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, South Dakota, Montana, Idaho, Utah, Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, and Missouri.  We covered 6,300 miles (almost exactly) and drove a total of 90 hours.  To put that in perspective, it is like driving from Pittsburgh, PA to Tokyo, Japan.  We saw forests, mountains, snow, deserts, canyons, battlefields, creepy snails, Touchdown Jesus, casinos, churches, geysers, buffalo, pueblos, and fried pies.  We braved the death marches of Yellowstone, the heat of Vegas, the cold of the Grand Canyon, and roads of Oklahoma.  We did this all with the enthusiasm and vigor that only the most deranged people could muster given the immense amount of driving that took place. 

We left as friends, and returned as friends – a major accomplishment.  I knew it was a successful trip when on the way back – in the midst of our fourteenth hour on the road that day – we began planning next summer’s trip. 

For those who followed us, I sincerely hope you have enjoyed reading this blog as much as we have enjoyed delivering it to you.  Being able to share our experience was a major part of our entertainment through the journey, and for that we thank you for reading.  If we managed to get you to chuckle once or twice, all the better. 

Lastly, a personal note for my four traveling companions – Kati, Josh, Becky, and Chunk.  The true enjoyment for me was spending two weeks talking, eating, drinking, and laughing with you guys.  The fact there were geysers was a nice touch, but driving through Idaho would have been a good time as long it was with you all.  Can’t wait to do it again!

Join us next summer for our trip to Maine by way of New York and Boston!

Day 12 was a rough day.  No pictures in this one, as it was all driving.  We drove 941 miles from the Grand Canyon to Oklahoma City.  I never realized New Mexico was that big.  Or that boring.  It’s very, very brown.  All I could think about was Breaking Bad and suddenly sympathizing with the main character in a small way – he does what he does because that is the only thing to do in this sea of brown. 

Three items of note. First, in reverse chronological order, we went through a hellacious storm in Texas.  We could actually see it coming miles in the distance, but like a train wreck in slow motion, we couldn’t prevent it.  Winds whipped the car around.  Our already inadequate wipers were no match to this storm.  And in the midst of this chaos is Chunk saying “Come on funnel cloud…come on funnel cloud.”  He desperately wanted to see a tornado, and I am truly sorry he did not get his wish.

Ironically, while Chunk waited all trip to see some tornadic activity, several touched down in and around our hometown of Brookville, PA.

Second, going through Texas we heard the single greatest radio program ever.  Chuck Bates has a regionally syndicated radio program covering politics – I think.  He tends to stray a little bit from topic to topic.  Being that we heard it in Texas, you can guess which way his politics lean.  I’m here to tell you, it does not matter if you agree with his views or not, you will be entertained.  His back and forth with callers is simply fantastic for his seemingly off-the-wall quotes.  Here are our favorites:

• “What happens if I don’t have a gun and someone attacks my wife...well, I guess she’d probably shoot him…but what if she didn’t?”
• “I’d rather mentor a man before I have to kill him.” 
• Editors note: Because those are really the only two options.
• “I want to be able to defend myself.  I want to kill people!”
• “Until baby mama and wife become synonymous, we’re gonna have problems!”

Whatever your politics, I encourage you to check this guy out if you are ever driving through Texas on a Friday night.  You will be entertained.  Incidentally, he will also be appearing at the Bartlett Station Municipal Center in Bartlett, Tennessee on September 27^th if anyone is interested. 

Third, we decided that lunch should be something with local flavor.  As we were in New Mexico, we decided Mexican was the way to go.  We used the GPS to find a Mexican place at a reasonable distance.  When we pulled off the interstate and into where the restaurant was supposed to be, though, we found an empty storefront.  We did, however, pass a food truck parked near a shopping complex that appeared to be serving Mexican food.  I like food trucks, so does Kati, so we thought this would work out well. 

It did, ultimately, and provided us an abundance of local flavor.  As we approached the truck, we noticed the writing – name, menu, etc. –was all in Spanish.  But a quesadilla is a quesadilla in any language, right?  Where we tripped up, though, was the difference between quesadilla and quesadilla de asada.  No problem, right?  Kati loves talking to waitstaff anyway, so this works out well.  Here is the transcript:

Kati (gleefully) – “Hello!  What is in a quesadilla de asada?”
Proprietor (confused but resolved) – “Quesadilla de asada.  One?”
Kati (slower, and with more focus) – “No…what is in the quesadilla?”
Proprietor (confidently) – “One?”
Kati (with trepidation) – “Yes, one.”

And so Kati, Josh, and I got quesadillas with or without de asada, I am not sure.  Chunk got two burritos.  Becky got subway.  I have to say, the food was delicious.  Honestly the best quesadilla with or without asada I have ever had.  We were richer for the cultural exchange, as well, and Josh enjoyed the pretty Latin girls who also patronized the food truck.  Chunk and I, of course, did not.

We called it quits at Oklahoma City with eager anticipation of the next day’s drive.

Up Next: Thorncrown Chapel and completing the circle.

Random Stats:
So I had been guessing on the hours driven, so this is a course correction…
Hours Driven: 73
Funnel Clouds Witnessed: 0
Chunks Disappointed: 1

Quote of the Day:

“As a matter of fact, I don’t eat shellfish.”
-          Radio Talk Show Host, easily winning an argument about same-sex marriage (seriously)

Troops were near mutinous on Day 11, our last day of true adventuring. Rather than risk a full-scale incident, the group compromised on approximately ½ a day of sightseeing and ½ a day of pool. For the sightseeing, we went to the Desert View section of the Grand Canyon on the eastern end. On the way we stopped at a few of the overlooks to catch different perspectives of the Canyon. At each point you can see different layers of the Canyon, each of which corresponds to different points in time. To see a cross-section like that is truly a sight to behold. It has a watchtower from which you can see quite a bit of the landscape. It was interesting to see the land drop off into the canyon. The plateau at the top looked like a normal grassland plain, then WHAM – drops off into oblivion. 



Replica of a Native American watchtower, complete with ancient Bobcat in front

There be the Colorado River

After we exited the park on the eastern side we stopped to take pictures of another canyon, which was not the Grand Canyon per se, but definitely a gash in the ground.  It was interesting in and of itself if only because it looked like a scalpel sliced into the ground leaving a long and narrow hole. 

This is the Average Canyon, NOT the Grand Canyon

Our next stop was the Wupatki Pueblo, a series of ruins once inhabited by the Hopi tribe.  I would personally call it the “poor man’s Mesa Verde,” although I have never been to Mesa Verde.  Both are similar in that they are old, made of rock, and once inhabited by Native Americans.  I personally found this site extraordinarily interesting.  It was a “hopping” (get it?  Hopi?  Hopping?) place in the 12^th century with several thousand inhabitants.  A nearby volcano erupted in the 11^th century and spewed ash everywhere, which boosted the fertility of the soil dramatically.  Wupatki burned hot and heavy, though, as it was abandoned in the 13^th century – a victim of changing trade routes, depleted soil, and other environmental factors. 

Abandonded in the 1200s during the Hopi subprime mortgage crisis

Ball court used by the pueblo's denizens

There is also a massive cave complex under the pueblo and surrounding grounds.  Nobody has ever been in the caves, though.  It does have a blowhole, though, that spews out nice cool air.

Sadly, Chunk, Josh, and I did not float when we were held over the hole

The second half of our day was spent with a cooler in the pool.  We did not care that it was less than 80 degrees with a breeze, we were getting in that pool!  I think we were in the pool for a solid five hours with only a cooler full of libations to keep us company. 

Well, that’s not 100% true.  We had two visitors, one welcome and one less so.  After an hour or so a family checked in and swung by the pool.  We paid them no mind, as we were busy displacing a metric ton of water from the pool with our floating around.  A few minutes later we noticed the 11 - 13 year old kids (three of them) staring at us out of a window on the second floor.  Creepy, but fine.  After a few minutes, we heard a “clink!”  and thought nothing of it.  Soon another “clink!”  We then realized these impudent whelps were throwing ice at us!  Becky, having a great deal of experience with special needs children, suggested we ignore them so as to not reinforce the behavior.  Ultimately we ceased to amuse them and they scampered off to annoy someone else.  Our second set of visitors was a couple from the Netherlands who were visiting on “holiday,” which is the European word for “vacation.”  They were both teachers, which when added to our three educators (Josh, Becky, and I) nearly pushed us to critical mass.  They were a good time and we’re glad to have met them.

Things were very boring after that.  We ordered pizza and went to bed.  At least that’s how I remember it.

Up Next: The long trek home part 1.

Random Stats:

Hours Driven: 81
Pretty Pueblos Peered At: 3
Clemson Fans Encountered: 1, at the pueblo
Ice Cubes Dodged: 3
 

Quote of the Day:

“Why is there a Natty in the baby pool?”
-          Kati, asking the age old question that has plagued man since creation

On day 10 we departed Las Vegas en route to the Grand Canyon.  First, however, we stopped at the Hoover Dam – which is of course named after the architect famous for designing “Hoovervilles” and not the vacuum manufacturer as many suspect.  At one point you were allowed to drive over the Hoover Dam as part of the normal highway.  Today you cannot do that, as there is a bypass that you are required to take.  You can still drive over the dam, but only to get to the parking lot.  I assume this is because of security concerns, which I find odd because the dam is simply massive in scale.  I can’t imagine what it would take to rattle it.  I really did not have an appreciation for this until I stood on it and looked down at the hydroelectric plant below.  In the midst of this grandeur, I kept thinking about Tom Petty riding a zip line from the dam down the canyon.  If you have any idea what I’m talking about, you and I are friends.  Friends who enjoy simply awful movies.



Dam

We left Hoover dam hastily to escape the heat that seemed to envelope us the minute we stepped out of the car.  The drive to the Grand Canyon is about 4 hours from the dam and through the desert.  About half an hour later we came to a gas station called “The Last Stop.”  We were in need of gas – not desperate need, but need – so we thought we better take the opportunity at this “last stop.”  Because they’re the “last stop,” gas was 25% more expensive.  Water was 100% more expensive.  Nonetheless, we paid because who knows when we’d get the next opportunity.

Turns out, however, the next opportunity was exactly 1 mile down the road.  Apparently, “last stop” is one of those weasel words advertisers use that doesn’t mean anything.  For example, “50% bigger” in an advertisement conveys little if any information.  50% bigger than what?  The competitor?  The previous package?  Dust mites?  “Last stop” is named such because it is the “last stop” for literally one mile.  I do not blame the gas station.  I blame us for being so gullible. 

After a brief stop at our hotel – more on that tomorrow – we soldiered on to the Canyon.  I think we were all taken back by the sheer size/scale of the canyon.  We had in our minds a gash running through the ground.  Instead it is a massive, miles wide hole in the ground.  I also was surprised to see the diversity of vantage points along various spots on the rim.  Truly impressive.  Equally impressive is that the Grand Canyon was easily the coolest spot of the entire trip.  Low 80s were the highs while we were there, so that was a bonus. 



That third layer of rock is the Coconino Sandstone we've all been hearing about

We had dinner reservations at the El Tovar Hotel, which is situated along the rim with spectacular views.  Equally spectacular are the tempers of tourists when parking lots are small.  I did not really hold the illusion we were going to get a spot in the El Tovar parking lot given that it was about 40 total spaces.  As we entered the parking lot – which is a one way thoroughfare – an SUV blocked the path.  It was sitting there, apparently waiting for a specific car to back out.  No problem, we’ll wait.  We sat for a solid five minutes with no movement.  Cars piled up behind us.  People started honking.  I was driving at the time, and this provided me a perfect opportunity to put into action some relaxation techniques I’ve been holding on to as treatment for a condition called “little patients.”  I realized, however, that every minute this guy sat there increased our odds of someone exiting the hotel and leaving a parking space.  Furthermore, any blame for inconvenience would be placed on the SUV guy and not me.  I actually began to get anxious he would leave too soon. 

At one point a lady got out of her car and walked up to the SUV to calmly and rationally discuss the situation and her frustrations.  I jest, of course, as she berated him with sharp, pointed words and clever name-calling.  Ultimately, the SUV was in fact waiting for a specific car to pull out, which it did after 10 minutes or so.  The SUV took that spot, and we sailed up slightly further to find a car did indeed exit the parking lot while we were waiting.  As we walked by the SUV – with the woman still berating its driver – we got the sense we were the true winners of the battle. 



Love is not having to say "don't push me" near the canyon

Before dinner, we did some hiking.  Part of the rim trail, which runs for many miles along the canyon overlooking it at various points, run past the hotel.  Many points do not have guiderails, furthermore, which offered us the opportunity to tempt the fates several times.  Once, while we were posing for pictures at the edge of the canyon, a male-type tween travelling with his family saw us and wandered over our way.  The matriarch of the group, aghast at our brazen disregard for personal safety and wary of her delicate flower getting too close to the edge, shouted “Jason get over here!  Just because other people are doing something doesn’t mean you should do it also!”  In my mind I like to think it was the same parents who shouted at their kids to stay back from the elk in Yellowstone as we toed the 25 yard regulation. 


Group photo featuring an impressive 4:1 smile ratio

Unrequited love is the saddest love

Dinner at the El Tovar was solid (if unremarkable), but had some spectacular views while we dined.  We were an hour or so early so I checked in with the hostess ahead of time, which she appreciated greatly.  Why she appreciated it so I am not sure.  So happy was she that we were moved from the main dining room to a table right by the huge panoramic windows near the porch.  That made dinner for us.

Wicked deep

Our intention after eating was to do some stargazing, as we were told the El Tovar has charts they give out for free.  Alas, it was not to be, as the receptionist at the desk told us there were no maps, nor were there ever maps.  With the sting of being lied to in our hearts, we slunk back to the Grand Canyon Inn to prepare for the next day. 

Up next: Desert View, Wupatki Pueblo, and insolent children at the pool!

Random Stats:

Hours Driven: 74
Grand Canyon Kills: over 600 (real statistic)
Feet Hiked into Canyon: 0

Two-part Quote of the Day:

“Why are you so happy?  Are you delirious?”
-          Kati to Becky on the way to the Grand Canyon

“She’s happy because I’m not.”
-          Chunk to Kati, upset over various wardrobe related issues

First thing first, the answer to the bonus question is "D," but 90% of you already knew that....

Second thing second, this is a long one.  Take it in doses.

Our second day in Vegas started at noon, which is not so much because of partying as much as the very aggressive schedule in Yellowstone and little sleep on the drive down.  After having pizza for lunch – which we financed by borrowing against the value of our house – we decided to do some of the Vegas attractions.  A group decision was made to go to the Mob Attraction at the Tropicana.  The Tropicana thinks itself a throwback to the good ole days when Vegas was mobbed up.  Honestly, I probably liked the décor in here more than anywhere else, which was an understated gaudy instead of an in-your-face gaudy.  Not until this blog, however, did I realize that because it was not gaudy, we have no pictures.  At Caesar’s Palace, however, we have several pictures due to the grandiose Roman style monuments.

Wait...are we outside, or in a Casino?

The Mob Attraction was worth the price of admission.  It is an interactive exhibit with live actors with whom you can converse.  In short, our group moved through the museum/attraction as though we were a gang trying to get into the mob.  We met with “Big Tony” and arranged to deliver a package.  In a nice touch, Big Tony gave us sympathies for the latest unpleasantness at Penn State – a topic I will NOT be touching on here.  We were then interrogated by an Irish cop.  Not sure why he was Irish, especially in Vegas, but ok.  We did not roll over on Big Tony, so we proceeded forward.     

Kati keeping warm in the chilly 110 degree desert

Ultimately we were asked to oversee casino operations and check for card sharks.  Much to Chunk’s delight, we found a cheater who then needed to be handled.  We were escorted into a backroom where a worker asked us what we should do with the guy.  Now, for the record, the guy was simply a movie playing on a wall made to look like opaque glass.  All we could see was a silhouette where two guys were beating on him.  We had three choices: 1) Let him go 2) Break his fingers 3) “Take him out to the desert.”  Me, being the moderate in the group and thinking about signaling games again, said “break his fingers so others can see what happens to cheaters!”  Chunk, being the less moderate in the group, says “take him to the desert!”  In a classic win-win, though, we did both!  Broke his fingers, sent him back to his buddies, then snatched him and took him to the desert.  Like I said, the good ole days of Vegas.  The goon silhouette then took out a hammer and smashed the cheater silhouette’s hand.  I have to give them points for making it interactive and immersive, at least. 

In a final stop, we were christened “made men” and were permitted to join the mob.  In between these meetings were a host of exhibits talking about the mob in Vegas.  The most interesting part of the exhibit, I personally think, was the film they showed on the role of the mafia in making the Godfather movies.  Apparently the mob (Italian American Anti-Defamation League) really didn’t like the idea of the Godfather because they felt it portrayed them in a bad light (i.e., stereotypical).  Hence, they tried to stymie production by pressuring businesses in Little Italy to refuse the movie crews.  This meant they could not shoot the movie on location, which would seriously degrade the movie quality.  The big sticking point was the word “mafia.”  Once the producers took “mafia” out of the script (which only appeared once anyway), things went smoother.  Oddly, the quote “mafia” appeared in contains five other derogatory terms for Italians which were not objectionable. 

The second interesting item from the film was the actor who played Luca Brasi was actually a mobster named Lenny Montana.  He was an enforcer, bodyguard, and arsonist for the Colombo family.  If you recall from the Godfather, Luca is sitting on a bench practicing what he will say when he meets the Godfather (Marlon Brando).  That was not Luca acting.  Rather, it was Lenny Montana practicing his lines without knowing he was being filmed. 

(I now realize that the last two paragraphs may only have interested me.  Sorry) 

 We divided forces after the Mob Attraction.  Kati and I went to the Titanic exhibit in the Luxor.  I have had a slight fixation on the Titanic ever since I got a book written by Robert Ballard, the guy who found the Titanic.  This was on my “must do” list when I started planning this trip seemingly decades ago.  The exhibit did not disappoint.  Museums and exhibits have evolved to the point where they are no longer simply static displays, but truly immersive experiences.  The Titanic exhibit took you from the building of the Titanic, to typical accommodations by class, to the exploration of the wreck with artifacts to depict each.  Some highlights include:

1.       Recreations of the grand staircase (in real scale) and first class promenade at night (30 foot section).  This was really cool, and only slightly cheapened by the photographer hawking pictures on the grand staircase.  I excuse this because it is Vegas after all.
2.       The largest item of the Titanic every recovered.  It’s a section of the hull measuring 25’x15’.  Amazingly, it still has the brass fittings and porthole glass intact.  I had to restrain Kati, who desperately wanted to touch it.
3.       There is an unopened bottle of campaign recovered from first class with the cork intact. 
4.       One room was dedicated to passenger luggage.  They did a nice job displaying the background story of the individual as told by their belongings.  One guy in particular was a perfume salesman.  His belongings included several telegraphs, stationary, memos, and a leather pouch of samples.  You could actually get a whiff of the samples, too, which was a nice touch.
5.       A replica iceberg.  As I said, the museum attempts to immerse you in the Titanic (not literally).  The room detailing the night they hit the iceberg was dark, cold, and had this big chunk of ice probably 10’x6’.  Think about this.  Las Vegas is a city in the middle of the desert, which basically means it is a 24-7 power and water vacuum.  This was not enough for Las Vegas, though, so they decided to make and maintain an iceberg to give us the sensation of touching ice.  For what it is worth, touching the mock iceberg was just like touching a big ice cube.  Who would have thought ice feels like ice.

Casualty free since 2003!

Josh, Becky, and Chunk went to the Mirage to see the white tigers and other animals at Siegfried and Roy’s Secret Garden (which sounds dirty).  I really can’t say much about it, as I’m more an experiential writer.  That said, my impression from stories and pictures is of a relatively large zoo in the casino complete with dolphins, lions, tigers, and other cute-but-deadly things. 

Single and ready to mingle, ladies!  Welcome to Venice!

Our evening plan involved dinner at the Delmonico Steakhouse in the Venetian.  First, the Venetian has a canal on the second floor where you can ride in gondolas while opera singers belt out foreign music.  The place is made up like a canal in – surprise – Venice.  It was honestly pretty cool, save for the hordes of people swarming the canal.  The Delmonico was our one fancy dinner on the trip, much to the dismay of Chunk.  I personally selected it based on these criteria:

1.       Reviews: They were all good, suffice it to say.
2.       Style: Steakhouse seemed the way to go in terms of bang for the buck.
3.       Oscar Style: I wanted a steak with crab meat on it.  I feel justified making this call, as it was entrusted to me to plan events.  If the price is a steak with crab meat, I think the rest of the party got off pretty clean.  My plan, my restaurant.
4.       Will Becky Eat Anything on the Menu?: I thought she would…

Turns out I was wrong about #4.  Josh, Chunk, and I basically had our meals planned before we got there, so we were ready to order in the first 2 minutes.  Kati always asks the staff what is best, which is almost always the more expensive option.  Becky, however, studied the menu for a solid 10 minutes before selecting the filet as – in my words – “the least worst option.”  She seemed to enjoy it, though, or at least that’s what she said.  Dessert was naturally in order, so we got:

Becky: Mocha crème brulee

Chunk: Chocolate torte
Josh: Mint profiteroles
Kati: Banana cream pie
Matt: Pecan pie

Here is the way desserts ended up:

Becky: Pecan pie

Chunk: Chocolate torte
Josh: Banana cream pie
Kati: Mint profiteroles
Matt: Mocha crème brulee

All’s well that ends well.  Except for the bill…

Just Kate and I...and a creepy oversized Venitian mask

Our evening entertainment was a Cirque du Soleil production called “Mystere,” which is pronounced “MIST-AIR” or in French “MIST-AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRR.”  Let me say this first, it was sincerely amazing.  The feats of strength performed were simply incredible.  Guys and gals were climbing up poles using nothing but forearms and shoulders, ladies were performing acrobatics I never knew possible, and flips were done in every conceivable way.  It was without a doubt the highlight of the trip for me personally, bar none. 

A brief note here: no pictures were allowed, but I had to show some in here.  I yanked them off the internet to share with you.

That said, it was also the creepiest, less comprehensible, most terrifying display of whacked-out, drug induced choreography and costume design I ever laid eyes upon.  The “mystere” is obviously what combination of hallucinogens and psychological trauma produces such depravity.  And remember, I like -nay, love - Mystere.  If I had not liked it, I wouldn’t have made it through the first five minutes, or approximately when the faceless pregnant aliens wheeled themselves out while balancing on stability balls. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  As we were getting seated and waiting for the show, they had a clown-type character dressed in a tux (no makeup) strolling through the audience playing jokes.  His shtick was throwing popcorn on people (one guy in particular).  We got incredible seats (8 rows back), so we were right in his wheelhouse.  Furthermore, I do not blend into crowds well.  While not exceptionally tall, I have girth and bald head.  It was inevitable I would be a target.  At first, he put some popcorn on my head and made me balance it.  This was ok, because when he wasn’t looking I could eat the popcorn for free! 

He then found another big bald guy, which was simply too much to ignore.  He walked over to our group, pointed at me, and said “you, come with me!”  I’m not one to ignore a clown’s plea, so I complied.  He took my hand and we walked hand in hand down the aisle swinging back and forth.  At one point he put his arm around me, which I did to him as well, because it is impossible to beat a clown at a clown’s game.  He sat me down next to the other big bald guy and played bongos on our heads briefly.  Then he produced two blond wings and made us wear them.  This confirmed what I had always suspected: I am not an attractive female.  Ultimately he left to find other victims, but all said it was a great bit and I am glad I was a part.

That wig felt oddly comfortable.  No shame.

For my actual thoughs on the show, let me divide them into impressive athletic feats and creepy, fear-inducing spectacles.  Here are the athletic highlights:

1.       Guys and gals performed stunts on poles.*  They climbed them in various ways, slid down them and caught themselves, balanced on them 100 feet above the ground.  Simply amazing.
2.       A girl with a ribbon suspended from the ceiling twirled and flew.  I have no idea how she didn’t snap her back with some of those falls.
3.       A blond guy suspended from the air performed acrobatics with a holographic cube, including balancing it on his chin.
4.       Two guys performed moves only the most secure of men could pull off.   The one on the bottom held the one on the top while they both contorted themselves in impossible ways.  The top guy never touched the ground.  This was perhaps the most amazing feat of strength I’ve ever seen.
5.       The trapezes artists looked tame compared to others, suggesting I just had acrobatics fatigue. 
6.       A routine where figures launched each other off see-saws.  For the finale, they stacked acrobats three high by launching them off the see-saw onto each other’s shoulders.  The cool thing was they missed the last one, which made the entire show seem more authentic and real.  The composed themselves for a second and did the exercise again, nailing it the second time.

Here are the creepy highlights:

1.       The aforementioned faceless pregnant aliens balancing on stability balls.  For extra creepiness, they sewed breasts onto them for reasons that still haunt me.
2.       The guys and gals running up the poles had masks on backwards, so their faces were on their backs.  Imagine those running up and down poles.
3.       Occasionally the aisles would fill up with weird guys dressed in colonial garb complete with powdered wigs.  I still do not know what point they served.
4.       Because it is a circus of sorts, there had to be people on stilts.  Because it is Cirque du Soleil, they had to give them oversized, grotesque masks to wear.  One was a post-modern giraffe, the other was what appeared to be the devil coming to steal my soul. 

He followed us all the way to the Luxor

However, the pièce de résistance of creepy, the single thing that will haunt my dreams for decades to come, was the snail.  In an early act of the play, a little girl drops a snail down a hole.  In the next act, you see a huge inflated head popping up out of the hole.  The head, naturally, has a human face.  And it blinks!  In the final act, BAM!  There it is, a huge snail right on stage with everyone singing and dancing around it.  They it moves towards you at a high rate of speed (for a snail).  I cannot describe it, so please look at the pictures. 

AAAH!!!!   KILL IT!!  KILL IT!!!  KILL IT!!!

 I would like to pose some open questions to whoever is in charge of putting the snail in the show:

1.       What point does this serve in context of the show?
2.       Why does it have a beard?  And a rooster’s comb?  And a duvet? 
3.       Are pink and purple traditional snail colors?
4.       Why a human face?  Is it because snails don’t have faces?  If that is the case, might I suggest using any one of the literally thousands of creatures with actual faces?
5.       Ever see The Neverending Story?  That is an example of how to pull off a huge snail without being overly creepy. 
6.       Did you have to make it blink? 

It's staring into my soul...please make it stop...

After cirque du soleil, I went home and cried myself to sleep.

Up Next: Grand Canyon, El Tovar, and Stargazing!

Random Stats:

Hours Driven: 68
Macaroons Purchased: 6
Sinister Snails: 1
Dollars per Calorie at Delmonico: $0.35

Quote of the Day:

“Take Mr.Clean and get out of here, you ruffians!”
-          Irish cop at the mob attraction, probably talking to Josh or Chunk.

Bonus Quote:

“If you mess with me you mess with the whole trailer park.”
-          Classy Vegas T-shirt

*It took every fiber of my being to avoid making a pole dancing joke.

Day 4,187 found us in Sin City itself, Las Vegas Nevada!  We arrived in Las Vegas at 6:30 AM, which was about an hour and a half ahead of schedule due to an early escape from Jackson.  The great thing about Vegas is everything is open almost all the time.  We naturally went to the classiest joint on the strip for breakfast: IHOP.  There are no words to capture the strange enjoyment one gets from seeing someone eating their Rutti Tutti Fresh and Fruity in their club clothes.  It makes you wonder if this is the cap to a good or bad night in Vegas.  There is a sociological study to be done here by someone.

I scheduled us for early check in at the Luxor (the big pyramid), but we were still an hour and half away from that.  The troops (myself included) were getting restless after a long drive, however, so I sprang into action to try and get us in the room early.  Many of negotiations and/or confrontations can be distilled to a signaling game between two parties.  Kati has heard this before, and has shouted several times that “EVERYTHING IS NOT A SIGNALING GAME, MATT!” which – ironically – is in and of itself a signal.  I had also read up on Las Vegas etiquette before the trip, so I knew tipping desk staff for things like upgrades or comps is proper form.  Before going to the desk I pulled a $20 out of my wallet and folded it carefully so the denomination was hidden.  After I got to the desk, I put the bill under my wallet so visible but not obvious.  The nice lady at the desk told me our rooms were not ready yet, but she had an upgrade to two clean rooms beside each other in the towers connected to the pyramid.  Mission accomplished.  It is also worth mentioning that she may have intended those rooms for us anyway, or given us an upgrade regardless of what I did.  She may have also fed me a line of BS longer than the strip.  I guess in the end, though, we both win since we were happy to get in the room early.

After a quick 3 or 4 hour nap (7 in Becky’s case), we started our exploration of the strip.  Josh, Chunk and I played a few slots in the early afternoon with everyone losing.  I was able to play my first $20 for several hours, though, out of sheer luck.  Our favorite game was the Wizard of Oz slot game.  When you sit down you have to pick whether you are Dorothy, the Lion, Scarecrow, or Tin Man.  There are four slots connected here so you could theoretically have one of each.  If you get three bonus symbols on the game, you trigger a “big event” where the Wizard shows up on a big screen above the bank of slots.  He then dolls out wild cards, bonus spins, etc. to the entire group.  For example, he’ll shout “Scarecrow!  I grant your request…and provide you ONE WILD!”  We never won much here, but the shiny objects, colors, and loud noises kept me entertained for $20, as dollars are the official measurement of time, distance, and quantity in Las Vegas. 

"Josh, I grant your request...and provide you TWO HOURS SLEEP!"

After Becky rejoined humanity we made the mistake of walking from the Luxor on the south end of the strip to the Bellagio in the middle.  I do not care if it is a dry heat, 110 degrees is hot.  We ducked in and out of casinos to both see the inside and stave off heat stroke.  Whatever the approximately 500 individuals handing out cards for “female companionship” on the strip are making is not enough.  Lesson learned, though.  We took a cab for anything over one block after this. 

Our last picture before the heal claimed us

For dinner we took in the Bellagio buffet. It was an hour wait, but totally worth it. They had everything on this buffet – steak, pasta, pizza, sushi, Chinese, French, dessert, etc. The crazy thing is the food was actually good. I could have ordered the pesto tortellini on any menu and been excited. The tragic part of the buffet is eventually you will fill up without sampling everything you want. With a combined 1,100 pounds of humanity at the table, though, that took a long, long time.

After the buffet we hit the casino at the Luxor for a nightcap.  Grand total, Kati and I lost $100 combine.  We planned to spend about this much gambling and were simply happy to have it last as long as it did.  Chunk and Becky ended in the red, too, but expected as much.  BUT, did you know that if you are playing in the casino they will bring you drinks?  Drinks for FREE?  I empirically observed a direct correlation between the tip you give the cocktail waitress and the frequency of visits (signaling game again).  The big winner was Josh, however, as hit it big playing “Pharaoh’s Gold.”  He ended $220 in the black and walked out of Vegas a winner.  Let’s go to Josh for the winner’s comments:

“I was down to $0.67 at one point.  This goes to show you should NEVER stop gambling, because it’s always darkest before the dawn.” 

My money is somewhere on the casino floor

Up Next: The Mob Attraction, Titanic, Tigers, and Cirque de Solei.

Random States:

Hours Driven: 68

Average Buffet Items Sampled: 47

Bellagio Profit from our buffet purchase: -$83.42

Hours of slots played: $100

Quote of the Day:

“………………………….”

-          Little girl when Chunk gave her all his carnival tickets.  While an incredibly nice gesture, she wasn’t sure if she should run or cower from the big scary man.