I am a big fan of scavenger hunts — largely in theory because I can’t actually remember an actual scavenger hunt that I actually took place in. I like the idea of running around, using one’s intelligence to find random things (and sometimes those things having a purpose), which is perhaps why I love The Amazing Race so much, since it takes some of those qualities and writes them large (can you make “writ large” present tense? We’ll see). It makes me think I should expend some energy and create a scavenger hunt on campus for some purpose, though I suspect people don’t love them as much as I do — again, largely in the abstract.

Anywho, the famous U of Chicago hunt recently concluded, and it sounds fabulous. Of particular note to me, there was a Vegas component (list of items), and I think I would have done quite well at it. I quite like the following items:

• Photographic evidence that stereotypes do exist. We’re looking to see you with “the rural bumpkin”,
  “the Fear and Loathing”, “the shit-eating grin business traveller”, “the camera-ladened person, possibly from east or west of here”, “the fanny-packed, tube-socked, Hawai’ian-shirted trifecta”, “the Classic Las Vegan –’if she doesn’t have a tracheotomy, she may as well have one’ slot jockey”, and a free-style of your choice.
• As many unique escort service cards as you can find. [0.1 points each. No fucking limit. No fucking.]
• Get your Royale fortune told for free by Zoltar. [1 point] (this is at Casino Royale)
• Masters of the Impossible? Impossibly large and flaxen faces. [3 points] (I already have a pic of me in front of the Siegfried and Roy shrine in front of Mirage)
• It’s a shame you are too big to fit through the Bellagio’s conservatory’s water arches. And it’s too bad
  that you accidentally interrupted the flow. And, furthermore, it’s a shame that this had to happen,
  not on the side where it gently plip-plops into its catch-bowl, but on the other side. It looks an awful
  lot like glass, don’t you think? But it’s not! However, it is not a shame that you took a picture at just
  the right moment. [9 points] (how awesomely written is that?)
• Pee on the Berlin Wall. The noun, not the verb. [number 1 points] (have done the verb at Main Street Station)

I’m thinking I should adapt this list for a Vegas vacation in the future! Fun!

I need to bookmark this site, so I can do it next year, and perhaps I should in fact switch occupations and work for this company!

Has anyone actually done a fun scavenger hunt?

Visits from Dave and to Donna resulted in some gastro drama and seeing another baseball game where my team loses, but overall much goodness. Dave and I will soon continue our discourse as I have a Fulbright workshop in DC later this month, and I will try to keep him from becoming the next Christopher Hitchens, and he will try to keep me from being a dissolute identity politician and polemicist. It’s good. Donna will come down for another attempt at me watching un-stupid baseball, and hopefully Anand (sp?) will come as well, for it was a fun day.

Yes, baseball stinks really badly right now. It’s allowing for more sleep though.

In case you didn’t notice, the world is imploding: cyclones, tornadoes (devastating a town that was slated for devastation; nice), 5″ of rain in 24 hours in MD, and now an earthquake. Not just any earthquake, but one that is targeting pandas. Seriously, Chengdu is where we are planning on going to pet the pandas next year.

Communication has been severed with the panda preserve. So, you tell me: what kind of God targets pandas?

I’ll keep you updated on that score.

The semester is winding down — last day of classes is Monday — and so even for me who is not teaching, it still means things are slowing down. The event I was in charge of went off well, and other projects are on simmering nicely, so I can’t complain.

Big weekend this weekend as I get to see Dave and Donna (largely bc I screwed up my schedule), which will no doubt present lots of awesomeness. Dave and I will likely spend much time discussing the miserable state of American education, politics, and/or culture, or something like that. I will likely get far too upset because Dave is, in fact, a gremlin. I could also be upset by seeing the Mariners Sunday because they are sucking enormously right now and don’t seem to know how to actually play baseball.

Finally, I have decided that The Insider is the worst television show on right now. Last week, they spent an entire week on Ivana Trump’s wedding. Tonight, they did two teases about what Donny Osmond thinks about Miley Cyrus’s Vanity Fair pictures.

Seriously. It hurts my head.

OK, off to bed. Apologies for the radio silence.

No, not Stonesthrow, but Ursinus. I was on a committee to help develop it, but stopped really contributing after the basic design was approved. It’s much better than the previous version, and the graphics are largely good. It still has a ways to go before it’s fully fleshed out, but I’m pretty happy with it. Thoughts?

I went to dinner tonight at Black Lab Bistro (more on that at some point over at Chicken-Fried Caviar) with colleagues and a special guest to the college this week, Owen Gingerich, an astronomer from Harvard.

He was very cool and brought with him something I’d never heard of before: an astrolabe. I’ll let you click over to Wikipedia for the blow by blow, but this particular one was a 17th century Persian number (which he’d brought along to share with some students and faculty). It was fascinating, especially since I think it’s pretty rare to see something that’s over 400 years old right in front of you, and something that old actually “working.”

So, there you go.

Something I didn’t learn this weekend? That baseball can be very mean, in that one travels hours away from home in very cold weather only to see one’s favorite team blow a lead in the bottom of the ninth. However, they beat the Rays (and, I can’t decide if they’ve given up on the animal meaning for the sun emanation meaning; if they have, that’s dumb. While one doesn’t often root for slimy fishy things, one cannot root for something that doesn’t move or attack. My favorite example of this comes from high school; one of the teams we played often were the Marysville Pilchuk Tomahawks. Now, you can’t really root for a weapon very well, can you? And, granted, there is the whole Supersonics issue — not only inanimate, but an adjective for Christ’s sake — but they’ve always been my least favorite Seattle team and they might be leaving anyway.), so perhaps all is not lost. 

Opening Day greets us with a drizzly, demoralizing loss for the Fightin’ Phils; I’m ensconced in front of my mlb.tv player as the M’s take on the evil Rangers.  It’s baseball time. This summer proves to be quite the summer of baseball. We have gone halfsies on a Sunday ticket plan for the Phillies, and have added another Phils game to see with Donna. Further, next weekend, we’re heading down to Camden Yards to see the M’s take on the O’s. Later in the summer, we’ll see the last season at Yankee Stadium when the M’s come to town. I’m sure at some point we will also make it to Reading and to the new team in Allentown, if only to get something with the team name on it. Finally, in August, we are planning a Pennsylvania baseball/amusement park extravaganza, with stops at Knoebels, Williamsport, Erie, Pittsburgh, Fallingwater, and Altoona (which features both baseball and amusement park right next to each other). Should any blog readers like to join us at any point, do let us know!

I mean, first, Jaguar and Land Rover are sold to we colonists, angering many a Brit, no doubt.

But, now this? “Ford sells Jaguar, Land Rover to India’s Tata.”

I mean, the Queen must be pissed — almost as much as when Canada threatened to leave the Commonwealth. Oh, wait, that was Kids in the Hall (how is Kids in the Hall not really on YouTube?).

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.

Thanks to NPR’s Story of the Day Podcast, I heard about Leslie Hall.

Um, how come I have never seen nor heard her before? I lurve her!

PS: here’s hoping I get the rest of the Vegas trip report up soon. Perhaps tonight while I listen to the M’s or something. We’ll see.

“Charlie Rose Face Plants to Save His MacBook Air”

I would do the same, sir.

Of course, first I’d have to have one. I think I will start though with at some point getting an iPod where the whole screen works. Damned Detroit airport and your awfully hard tiled floors!