Two Dames and a Dam March 25, 2008

So, back to Vegas.

I’ll dispense with copious amounts of writing about my gambling. I did better than Rick. There was a lot of video poker, interspersed with some blackjack (including at a $5 table at Bellagio Sunday morning, featuring the oldest dealer on earth and the most annoying Canadian couple on earth, the latter causing us to leave the table — a $5 table at Bellagio! the height of the couple’s idiocy came when, after flipping a 50-cent piece at Richard for a top which landed in the chip tray, rendering it no longer a tip but the property of the casino, the guy kept on telling Richard that it was a tip for him, to which Richard mumbled, “it’s not worth it.” When Richard took his break (to, presumably, nap), the guy kept on going on and on about how Richard should retire because he wasn’t in a good mood. No, asshole, you need to stop being an idiot.), roulette (largely even there), some slots (including stellar wins at two different Wheel of Fortune machines, including my first 1000 on the big wheel:

), some bad sports bets (except I have futures bets on the M’s, which I’m sure will turn out well), and some craps downtown with some construction guys who completely rocked and won me $250. So, gambling wasn’t horrible, which was nice.

What did we do otherwise? We did some shopping for a watch for Rick (apparently, at a certain price range, you can haggle for watch prices? Who knew? Don’t pay full price!), and generally just walked around. And drank.

And then there were the three events referenced in the title.

Sunday night, we saw Bette Midler at the Colosseum, the house that Celine built. I had never seen Bette, and I can’t say that I am a huge fan, but I like her well enough — like her personality quite a bit. The show was really great. It had a great mix of music, dance, and comedy. The first part was surprisingly good: her rendition of “When a Man Loves a Woman” showed she still has the voice to pull off some difficult stuff when she wants to. There were her usual standards (second was “The Rose,” last, “Wind Beneath My Wings”) and others, including the saddest song I’ve ever heard, “Hello in There,” (original and Bette) — seriously, make sure you’re stable while listening. The dancing was good and the comedy ribald, though I could have done with less mermaid stuff. Overall, definitely a show to see and well worth it.

The next day, we drove to Hoover Dam, which is less than an hour from Vegas, which surprised me. It was really impressive and pretty interesting. They are also building a bypass and that is truly frightening:

I also liked the architecture of some of the accompanying pieces of the dam — to me this collection tower looks like a submerged Coit Tower:

It was all very cool and I’m glad we finally made it there.

So, the last thing. When we were in Vegas a trip or two ago, we saw ads for an event featuring Sylvia Browne, and thought, oh what a hoot. For those of you who don’t know her, she is constantly on Montel Williams, telling people their futures, who their spirit guides are, and how their loved ones died. She sounds like she’s been smoking since age 10 months and has the kind of attitude of someone who is not just world weary, but tired of you and your shit. I sort of love her.

So, we saw ads for her again (this time at Excalibur! Perfect!), and I started to do my Sylvia impression for John and Angel, and they were really loving it — to the point that they decided we actually needed to see her. I thought they were kidding. But, no, there’s Angel calling the box office on the way back from Hoover Dam; there we are buying our tickets; there we are posing next to her angelic visage before the show (in the same theater as the Thunder from Down Under male revue and hack comic Louie Anderson!):

So, there were two price points: $141 for VIP tickets, which guaranteed you a question for Sylvia, and $85 for us shlubs (hey, it’s Vegas). We entered, sat among true believers, and listened for the first half-hour to Sylvia explaining her lexicon ([the following are paraphrases unless quoted] when you ask for an angel, make sure you ask for the principalities and the thrones — they’re the ones that have the real power) and then just ranting (I don’t understand why we’re not drilling in Alaska for natural resources — I mean there’s the oil, but also all kinds of zinc). Then we got to the questions.

The first person explained to Sylvia how she and her father had to leave their house a year ago because their neighbor had put a hit out on them. Her question was whether it was safe for them to go back to get their stuff. Here’s what followed:

• Sure, honey. Just get a police escort and you’ll be safe.
• Are you sure, because I just don’t feel right about and I’m worried about us getting hurt. Now, are they still after us?
• I’m sorry honey, but it’s just one question.
• Oh, but I bought three tickets.
• Oh, OK.

Yes, rather than spending $500 on, oh, I don’t know, a bodyguard, she sought Sylvia’s advice. Yes, this is who we were with. My two favorite other moments from the questions:

• Sylvia, will I be a millionaire? No….but you’ll be comfortable.
• Sylvia, can you tell me the names of the spirit guides for me, my wife, and my son? Leon, April, and Loretta. (Other spirit guides included Andrea and Frida)

So, once all the VIPs got their turn, she pulled tickets out of a bowl, and if the number matched yours, you got to ask a question. As our spirit guide would have it, we all got to ask a question. I asked a semi-serious question about my uncle (heart problem; he’s still watching over me; he was eccentric — all feasible, all relatively predictable), while the others asked the following, in order of my favorites:

• Rick: what is my financial outlook? Bleak until December…of course, it’s been bleak all year, huh? (Rick has had the best year financially of his career this year)
• Angel: how long will I be in my current job? As long as you want. (Um, what spirit guide did you consult for that?)
• John: will my current relationship last? Is it with a light-haired female? No. Then, no. (as John goes to sits next to his boyfriend).

John maintains that Sylvia was better than Bette; all I’ll say is that it was entertaining (but also pathetic or perhaps just bathetic — I mean, there are a few relationships in the dust after this thing, and possible death with that one woman) and definitely worth the money.

Overall, we had a really good time. I think four nights may be the right amount of time — if we can swing it with our schedules — but obviously three hotels is ridiculous. We didn’t gamble as much as we usually do because of the longer stay, in some ways, because we didn’t feel pressured to get everything in that we wanted to do — we were much more relaxed. All in all, a very good time.