August 28, 2009
I'm not sure what else I can do but keep on playing the best I can. I'm not catching any cards and the number of losing sessions is beginning to add up. I really don't think I'm playing badly. I'm sticking to playing only high +EV hands, in position, and not getting trapped post flop in situations. I've done a much better job of paying attention to pot sizes and not paying off when I'm pretty sure I'm beat. I've got to continue to improve my post flop play.
*I started out on Table 2 in the back, the M Casino, and had nothing to play but blinds for the first hour. An obnoxious man and his wife joined the table. He sat with the chair backwards, legs spread, arms splayed onto the table like an octopus. He would fling his cards at the dealer or at the community cards at showdown and really got on my nerves. I also don't like husband/wife teams or couples playing at the same table. I moved after a few hands to another table up closer to the front of the room. I was much more comfortable and immediately won a couple of nice pots on junk hands from the blinds.
*I missed flops all night, with the few pocket pairs I had and the numerous suited connectors I played. I must have played a dozen suited connectors, mostly in middle position or later, and missed every one...no four cards to a flush the entire night. I had open ended straight draws entirely miss. On the other hand, I had J-6o in the blinds and won my largest pot of the night. Later I had J-6s and thought "what the hell" and saw a cheap flop. I flopped a J-high flush with that hand and won a small pot heads up. My strongest hands (AKo, AQo, etc.) all missed the flops, but I won with J-6 twice. Go figure.
*The last hour I was getting tired, sleepy, and frustrated and probably should have quit sooner. I tried to buy a couple of pots, dumb plays, and knew it was time to call it quits for the evening. On the last hand I missed an OES draw, playing the button, and decided that was it. I was getting snippy and frustrated and began to verbally express my disappointment. Not a good sign.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
I've been keeping stats on my poker game for years, but recently I've started writing notes after particular sessions. I'm finding it helpful to immediately sit down after a session and write about the hands I've played and the people who were a part of the game.
I've taken notes while at the table, too, though it intimidates some players. I don't want to influence the players around me, so when I take notes it's done quietly and carefully so as not to disturb anyone. If someone asks about what I'm writing, I joke about it and say "it's about work." If players know I'm taking notes about them or the hands I'm playing then it sends a signal that I'm taking the game seriously and they might pay more attention and play harder against me.
Here is a excerpt from an session back in August:
Sunday, November 8, 2009
2009 WSOP Final Table Photo Album Part 2
Media Row.
Dr. Pauly making a speech.
Phil Gordon.
New Poker Hall of Fame inductee Mike Sexton opening the action after the dinner break.
I get snuggly with the Poker Queen.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
The November Nine
In about 90 minutes nine millionaires will sit down at the WSOP Final Table and begin the process of determining this year's winner. ESPN will telecasts the results Tuesday night. The format which began last year is a ratings winner, so I'm betting the November Nine format will be around for years to come.
Now, if I can only figure out how to find my seat among the November Nine. Every poker player wants to be there. Sure the money is great if you make it. But the excitement surrounding the WSOP Final is hard to imagine. If you love this game then the WSOP Final is on your Bucket List. Poker is the only sport that allows the amateur to compete with the professional, offering a chance to actually win. (This years chip leader, Darvin Moon, is an amateur from Maryland and owns a logging company and Phil Ivey is the popular professional.)
I don't play many tournaments, choosing the cash game as my favorite venue. But I'll play more tournaments beginning next year as I prepare for the 2010 WSOP next summer. If a Maryland logger can make the Finals, then why can't a hack like me? Thus the reason we all play the game: the chance to find greatness.
I'll be keeping up with the action throughout the day with Pauly at http://taopoker.blogspot.com/ .
Now, if I can only figure out how to find my seat among the November Nine. Every poker player wants to be there. Sure the money is great if you make it. But the excitement surrounding the WSOP Final is hard to imagine. If you love this game then the WSOP Final is on your Bucket List. Poker is the only sport that allows the amateur to compete with the professional, offering a chance to actually win. (This years chip leader, Darvin Moon, is an amateur from Maryland and owns a logging company and Phil Ivey is the popular professional.)
I don't play many tournaments, choosing the cash game as my favorite venue. But I'll play more tournaments beginning next year as I prepare for the 2010 WSOP next summer. If a Maryland logger can make the Finals, then why can't a hack like me? Thus the reason we all play the game: the chance to find greatness.
I'll be keeping up with the action throughout the day with Pauly at http://taopoker.blogspot.com/ .
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Living in Las Vegas
After a year of traveling around Indian casinos in the Southwest, I finally landed in Las Vegas a few months ago. My poker blog has been neglected, and placed on Hold, for months. But now I'm getting back to it. On a regular basis now I'll be posting my thoughts about the game and maybe share some stories of the people I meet.
For me, poker is more than a card game. It's a social experience, a composite of the lives of those who sit down and share their time. Each game is a painting, a work of art, with various colors and schemes evolving over time from the individuals who at that time are contributing to the tapestry of play.
I have few passions in my life: art, writing, photography, and studying people. What better place to study people than at a poker table? I do feel at home in a poker room.
I'm not here to teach poker. I'm here to share the world of poker playing, a game that is a part of the American experience. Thousands of web sites will teach the game. This blog is my experience, my life, my contribution to the game that has become a passion for millions of players around the world.
For me, poker is more than a card game. It's a social experience, a composite of the lives of those who sit down and share their time. Each game is a painting, a work of art, with various colors and schemes evolving over time from the individuals who at that time are contributing to the tapestry of play.
I have few passions in my life: art, writing, photography, and studying people. What better place to study people than at a poker table? I do feel at home in a poker room.
I'm not here to teach poker. I'm here to share the world of poker playing, a game that is a part of the American experience. Thousands of web sites will teach the game. This blog is my experience, my life, my contribution to the game that has become a passion for millions of players around the world.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Las Vegas Area Writers
My search for a local writer's group in Las Vegas has turned up very little so far. From Google all I can find are these three groups:
- The Las Vegas Writers Group. www.meetup.com/Las-Vegas-Writers
- The Henderson Writers Group. http://www.hwg.mergentsquared.com/
- The Writer's Pen & Grill. http://www.penandgrill.com/
The Pen and Grill is really more of a social gathering. According to its website, "The Writer’s Pen & Grill is designed to get writers away from their computers—at least once a month. Come hang out, socialize, and...yes…have a cocktail."
My plan is to attend the meeting of the Las Vegas Writers Group in November and eventually the Henderson Writers Group. I'm also checking with UNLV to see what's available. I'm looking for some local contacts and a regular meeting with other writers. A Las Vegas Writer's Conference is also in the works.
I'm surprised I didn't find more here, but I'll keep looking.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Do Not Sit on Banister
I looked at the sign taped to the wall in the Theater at the Clark County Library yesterday and knew it was going to be a long day: "Do Not Sit on Banister." These signs dotted the arena-style theater where I was attending a conference hosted by the library for writers and published authors. I figured the warning sign was appropriate. It was another way of reminding me to be careful, like a voice speaking softly in the back of my head saying, "Don't take any unnecessary risk."
My life for the last two years, however, has been all about taking risk. But that's another story for another time.
The Clark County Library on East Flamingo is a large complex going under an expansion, thus I noticed black plastic sheeting, tools, construction equipment, and dust on my walk to the theater. When I entered the auditorium I encountered the first of many "Do Not Sit on Banister" signs. Thanks for the warning. I found my seat quickly, positioned left center of the podium at stage front.
In the middle of the two-story arena was the semi-circular stage, dark curtains pulled and pleated. Two items were there: a table with six water bottles lined up like toy soldiers and an old-style oak podium with a microphone. I was reminded of college days in East Texas and for a moment I was back in school waiting for an afternoon production of "On the Waterfront" to begin. Then Frank Sinatra's voice echoed throughout the theater jolting me back into reality--I'm two miles from the Las Vegas strip--about as far from a rural East Texas college town as one can get.
An estimated 300 persons attended the conference hosted by Carolyn Hayes Uber of Stephens Press. Among her first comments when taking the stage were to admire the large crowd and say how proud she was of the "literary scene in Las Vegas." Las Vegas is not readily admired for it's artists and literary talents, unless you consider Penn and Teller creative geniuses and Carrot Top a bookworm. The crowd this day was a mixture of men and women, almost evenly numbered. (I was surprised. Most writing conferences I've attended are dominated by women...not a bad thing since I'm single.)
Ms. Uber spoke of the publishing industry in session one. Then author Maralys Wills spoke in session two about preparing manuscripts for publication. She offered "Ten Ways to Upgrade Your Manuscript". Session three featured an editor. But I left after session two. My back was getting tired. Perhaps sitting on the banister would have been more comfortable.
_________________________________________
Things I Learned at the Writer's Conference
1. 400,000 individual book titles were published last year.
2. Only 10 of those 400,000 book titles sold more than a million copies. Most of the books sold less than 100 copies.
3. You won't get rich writing books.
4. 70 percent of all books published will not make enough money to pay for the author's advance.
5. 10 percent of all the books sent to an agent will actually get published...1 percent will make a profit.
6. Most Americans buy books from four places: Costco, Sams Club, WalMart, and Target.
7. Rejection slips are normal and to be expected. Big Tip (from Maralys Wills): "keep improving your manuscript and keep sending it out until it's published."
8. The average royalty paid to authors: 10.7 percent of net (no longer a percentage of gross). That means the publisher must make money before the author gets paid anything beyond the advance.
My life for the last two years, however, has been all about taking risk. But that's another story for another time.
The Clark County Library on East Flamingo is a large complex going under an expansion, thus I noticed black plastic sheeting, tools, construction equipment, and dust on my walk to the theater. When I entered the auditorium I encountered the first of many "Do Not Sit on Banister" signs. Thanks for the warning. I found my seat quickly, positioned left center of the podium at stage front.
In the middle of the two-story arena was the semi-circular stage, dark curtains pulled and pleated. Two items were there: a table with six water bottles lined up like toy soldiers and an old-style oak podium with a microphone. I was reminded of college days in East Texas and for a moment I was back in school waiting for an afternoon production of "On the Waterfront" to begin. Then Frank Sinatra's voice echoed throughout the theater jolting me back into reality--I'm two miles from the Las Vegas strip--about as far from a rural East Texas college town as one can get.
An estimated 300 persons attended the conference hosted by Carolyn Hayes Uber of Stephens Press. Among her first comments when taking the stage were to admire the large crowd and say how proud she was of the "literary scene in Las Vegas." Las Vegas is not readily admired for it's artists and literary talents, unless you consider Penn and Teller creative geniuses and Carrot Top a bookworm. The crowd this day was a mixture of men and women, almost evenly numbered. (I was surprised. Most writing conferences I've attended are dominated by women...not a bad thing since I'm single.)
Ms. Uber spoke of the publishing industry in session one. Then author Maralys Wills spoke in session two about preparing manuscripts for publication. She offered "Ten Ways to Upgrade Your Manuscript". Session three featured an editor. But I left after session two. My back was getting tired. Perhaps sitting on the banister would have been more comfortable.
_________________________________________
Things I Learned at the Writer's Conference
1. 400,000 individual book titles were published last year.
2. Only 10 of those 400,000 book titles sold more than a million copies. Most of the books sold less than 100 copies.
3. You won't get rich writing books.
4. 70 percent of all books published will not make enough money to pay for the author's advance.
5. 10 percent of all the books sent to an agent will actually get published...1 percent will make a profit.
6. Most Americans buy books from four places: Costco, Sams Club, WalMart, and Target.
7. Rejection slips are normal and to be expected. Big Tip (from Maralys Wills): "keep improving your manuscript and keep sending it out until it's published."
8. The average royalty paid to authors: 10.7 percent of net (no longer a percentage of gross). That means the publisher must make money before the author gets paid anything beyond the advance.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Where Does the Time Go?
(RSS feed from MyRoadArt.com)
Day 125 in Las Vegas
I'm trying not to waste time. I'll turn 51 next month, breaking the half-century mark and I'm skittish enough to worry about the time I have left. I want to accomplish so many things in my life but time seems to be slipping away.
I work a 9-5 job weekdays to pay bills. My passions are located in other places: the card rooms around Vegas, an art studio, my blogs. And I like to play, too. I've never been accused of being a workaholic. I'm more interested in pursuing my passions.
I have four blogs which I need to address each day: MyRoadArt, Writefinger, Novel Ideas, and SolaSendero. Writing content for these blogs takes time. Blogs are leeches of content, starving for something to eat. They are worthless without daily attention and feeding. And the blog Novel Ideas concerns a novel I'm writing. (I know...everyone wants to write a novel before they die.) Writing a novel also requires a tremendous amount of hard work. A writer must write each day. It's not a choice, but a requirement to survive much like breathing.
I love to draw and paint. I aspire to be an artist. I want to spend time in an art studio. But when do I find the time? Some of the happiest moments of my life were spent in my small studio in Carmel Valley. I need to return to the studio.
I'm serious and passionate about playing poker. I'm at home in a card room, spending time with friends and foes alike, betting on the come, laughing, crying, feeling all the emotions of a competitive sport while sitting in plush chairs surrounded by the wonderful sounds of clinking chips. At times a card room can be Heaven on Earth. It can also be Hell. I feel comfortable there.
If only there were time to all the things swirling around inside my head, the ideas born of desires and ambitions beyond my reach. I believe we can have it all, the desires of our hearts, if we apply ourselves with a ruthless determination to succeed. Saints and sinners alike have the same 24 hours to accomplish what they will.
Day 125 in Las Vegas
I'm trying not to waste time. I'll turn 51 next month, breaking the half-century mark and I'm skittish enough to worry about the time I have left. I want to accomplish so many things in my life but time seems to be slipping away.
I work a 9-5 job weekdays to pay bills. My passions are located in other places: the card rooms around Vegas, an art studio, my blogs. And I like to play, too. I've never been accused of being a workaholic. I'm more interested in pursuing my passions.
I have four blogs which I need to address each day: MyRoadArt, Writefinger, Novel Ideas, and SolaSendero. Writing content for these blogs takes time. Blogs are leeches of content, starving for something to eat. They are worthless without daily attention and feeding. And the blog Novel Ideas concerns a novel I'm writing. (I know...everyone wants to write a novel before they die.) Writing a novel also requires a tremendous amount of hard work. A writer must write each day. It's not a choice, but a requirement to survive much like breathing.
I love to draw and paint. I aspire to be an artist. I want to spend time in an art studio. But when do I find the time? Some of the happiest moments of my life were spent in my small studio in Carmel Valley. I need to return to the studio.
I'm serious and passionate about playing poker. I'm at home in a card room, spending time with friends and foes alike, betting on the come, laughing, crying, feeling all the emotions of a competitive sport while sitting in plush chairs surrounded by the wonderful sounds of clinking chips. At times a card room can be Heaven on Earth. It can also be Hell. I feel comfortable there.
If only there were time to all the things swirling around inside my head, the ideas born of desires and ambitions beyond my reach. I believe we can have it all, the desires of our hearts, if we apply ourselves with a ruthless determination to succeed. Saints and sinners alike have the same 24 hours to accomplish what they will.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
A Morning with the Sparrows
The sparrows were out this morning, snapping at each other, some flying across the patio looking for something to eat. I join them for breakfast most weekday mornings at Starbucks. I pinch off a small piece of my bagel making sure not to include the cream cheese. (I'm not sure what cream cheese will do to the digestive system of a sparrow.) I like to flick a crumb-sized portion of an Albertson's raisin and cinnamon bagel among the birds and watch them fight each other for it.
Only the swift will win. Once a crumb-bagel hits the ground, a sparrow swoops down and grabs the morsel in its mouth and quickly takes flight to a nearby tree branch to enjoy breakfast without the company of its friends. Rude bird. Selfish twit.
I glance to my left and see the Chevron station serving breakfast gas to a covey of hungry cars. This intersection in Henderson must be one of the busiest in the Las Vegas valley. Hundreds of cars speed by my observation post on the patio located high above the scene. Workers are preparing the landscape around the station, hauling dirt and planting trees. The sparrows nearby seem to take notice. They turn their heads to glance at the workers and then just as quickly turn back towards me and look for more bagel crumbs.
To my right is the Texaco station across the street to the north. A huge American flag is waving from its pole. I see a bike rider scampering along the sidewalk, peddling fast. His backpack is heavy. Perhaps he's a student with a load of books. Steam from the street is rising in curly rhythms like clear sheets of velvet causing the bike rider to look warped and otherworldly. I swipe my forehead and collect a bead of sweat as I notice how hot it is.
A branch of the Colonial Bank is directly in front of my outpost about 200 yards away. I read the neon sign flashing above it: "Safe, Sound, Secure. You'll Like It Here." I smile at the irony of such a message appearing in a city like Las Vegas. Just beyond the sign, on the horizon in the far distance, I see the Strip with the tall Stratosphere tower reaching upward into the hazy summer sky. The famous skyline of the entertainment district on Las Vegas Blvd. is stretched out before me and I wonder about the winners and losers who are still sleeping away their deeds from the night before. Safe, sound, and secure.
This Starbucks has a fountain on the patio that's not running this morning. Perhaps it's too hot. What little breeze I feel upon my face feels like it's coming from a hair dryer. The heat surrounds me, covers me, engulfs me, and I wonder if bagels feel this way while baking. The patio is like an oven and those of us sitting out here are like loaves of bread. A business man wearing a suit has taken off his jacket revealing a starched white shirt so bright that it blinds me to look at him. Two women in shorts are having a spirited conversation and don't seem a bit worried about a potential heat stroke.
As for me and the sparrows? I'm listening to Joe Cocker on my iPod and the birds are staring at me, pleading with me with small dark eyes, to toss them more bagel crumbs. Cocker sings, "there's a time to reap/a time to sow/ for holdin' on/ for lettin' go/ sometimes doing what is right is lettin' go."
Only the swift will win. Once a crumb-bagel hits the ground, a sparrow swoops down and grabs the morsel in its mouth and quickly takes flight to a nearby tree branch to enjoy breakfast without the company of its friends. Rude bird. Selfish twit.
I glance to my left and see the Chevron station serving breakfast gas to a covey of hungry cars. This intersection in Henderson must be one of the busiest in the Las Vegas valley. Hundreds of cars speed by my observation post on the patio located high above the scene. Workers are preparing the landscape around the station, hauling dirt and planting trees. The sparrows nearby seem to take notice. They turn their heads to glance at the workers and then just as quickly turn back towards me and look for more bagel crumbs.
To my right is the Texaco station across the street to the north. A huge American flag is waving from its pole. I see a bike rider scampering along the sidewalk, peddling fast. His backpack is heavy. Perhaps he's a student with a load of books. Steam from the street is rising in curly rhythms like clear sheets of velvet causing the bike rider to look warped and otherworldly. I swipe my forehead and collect a bead of sweat as I notice how hot it is.
A branch of the Colonial Bank is directly in front of my outpost about 200 yards away. I read the neon sign flashing above it: "Safe, Sound, Secure. You'll Like It Here." I smile at the irony of such a message appearing in a city like Las Vegas. Just beyond the sign, on the horizon in the far distance, I see the Strip with the tall Stratosphere tower reaching upward into the hazy summer sky. The famous skyline of the entertainment district on Las Vegas Blvd. is stretched out before me and I wonder about the winners and losers who are still sleeping away their deeds from the night before. Safe, sound, and secure.
This Starbucks has a fountain on the patio that's not running this morning. Perhaps it's too hot. What little breeze I feel upon my face feels like it's coming from a hair dryer. The heat surrounds me, covers me, engulfs me, and I wonder if bagels feel this way while baking. The patio is like an oven and those of us sitting out here are like loaves of bread. A business man wearing a suit has taken off his jacket revealing a starched white shirt so bright that it blinds me to look at him. Two women in shorts are having a spirited conversation and don't seem a bit worried about a potential heat stroke.
As for me and the sparrows? I'm listening to Joe Cocker on my iPod and the birds are staring at me, pleading with me with small dark eyes, to toss them more bagel crumbs. Cocker sings, "there's a time to reap/a time to sow/ for holdin' on/ for lettin' go/ sometimes doing what is right is lettin' go."
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Library Hi-Tech Gear Gives Me a Hi-Tech Headache
RSS Feed from www.MyRoadArt.com
Day 103 in the Las Vegas Valley
I got my library card the first week I moved to Las Vegas. I was in Summerlin, and found the Las Vegas-Clark County Library District (clumsily referred to as the "LVCCLD", like some undecipherable Roman numeral). The Summerlin branch of the LVCCLD was undergoing a facelift at the time, but was a nice enough place tucked neatly inside a business center near The Trails. I had few problems finding my way around.
My trouble began when I tried to check out a few books, DVDs, and CDs. The hi-tech gear at the library check out counter gave me an old-fashioned headache. I was instructed to hold my books and other items under a scanner, then pass the stack of materials over a mechanized cabinet-gizmo that would deactivate the security tags placed in each of the items. Okay. I'm computer literate. I can do this.
As luck would have it, I missed something and set off an alarm as I was walking out. A library security guard gave me a "What's-your-problem" look and asked me to return to the check out counter. Well, she didn't really ask. She told me, "You need to return to the check out counter." I complied.
In the old days you carried your books to the check out counter and the librarian would stamp a few cards and off you would go. No hassle. No big deal. Just a stamp and go. But now I'm required to maneuver my way through computerized equipment scanners and high-beam security sensors in order to check out the latest bestseller. Give me a break.
After moving to Henderson I found the nearest branch of the LVCCLD on Shelbourne, just off South Las Vegas Blvd. I wanted to check out two books, six CDs, and three DVDs. I went to the check out computer consoles and encountered something similar to the bridge of the Starship Enterprise. What the crap is all of this hi-tech stuff? How the heck do I check out a book?
I placed the entire stack of items I wanted to check out on a table in front of a computer monitor. As I was looking around to see what to do next, the monitor began to list the items I had placed on the table. "You've got to be kidding me. What the hell is this?" A security guard nearby walked over and gave me directions on how to check out items on "our new toy."
I was instructed to place my books in a stack on the table. The table top, as if by magic, scanned the stack of books, CDs, and DVDs and immediately checked them out. I received a receipt when it was through. I did not have to pass the books by hand under a scanner. All I did was set the books down on the table.
Naturally, I missed something and set off an alarm as I was leaving the library. With all this hi-tech gear to make my library experience a pleasant one, I sure seem to be setting off a lot of alarms. In the old days with just a stamp I don't remember ever setting off an alarm. Not once. I eventually discovered that I was not leaving my stack of books on the table long enough. (I guess the hi-tech gizmo needs time to save me time.)
To check the library materials back in is another story. You punch a button on a computer screen to begin. Then you place each item under a red light hovering over a conveyor belt hidden inside a slot in the wall. The book, CD, or DVD, whatever, is slowly sucked in by the conveyor belt. As it passes by a scanner the red light turns green. It's similar to standing in front of a microwave oven in your kitchen and slowly placing a book inside it, only to see it disappear into nothingness, sucked into oblivion.
I suppose all of this Star Trek technology enables the library to safely check out items to the public without having to pay someone to stamp a card. It is a slick operation when you think about it. Walk in, find your book, lay it on a table, walk out. But does it save time? Maybe. If I can stop setting off the alarm.
Day 103 in the Las Vegas Valley
I got my library card the first week I moved to Las Vegas. I was in Summerlin, and found the Las Vegas-Clark County Library District (clumsily referred to as the "LVCCLD", like some undecipherable Roman numeral). The Summerlin branch of the LVCCLD was undergoing a facelift at the time, but was a nice enough place tucked neatly inside a business center near The Trails. I had few problems finding my way around.
My trouble began when I tried to check out a few books, DVDs, and CDs. The hi-tech gear at the library check out counter gave me an old-fashioned headache. I was instructed to hold my books and other items under a scanner, then pass the stack of materials over a mechanized cabinet-gizmo that would deactivate the security tags placed in each of the items. Okay. I'm computer literate. I can do this.
As luck would have it, I missed something and set off an alarm as I was walking out. A library security guard gave me a "What's-your-problem" look and asked me to return to the check out counter. Well, she didn't really ask. She told me, "You need to return to the check out counter." I complied.
In the old days you carried your books to the check out counter and the librarian would stamp a few cards and off you would go. No hassle. No big deal. Just a stamp and go. But now I'm required to maneuver my way through computerized equipment scanners and high-beam security sensors in order to check out the latest bestseller. Give me a break.
After moving to Henderson I found the nearest branch of the LVCCLD on Shelbourne, just off South Las Vegas Blvd. I wanted to check out two books, six CDs, and three DVDs. I went to the check out computer consoles and encountered something similar to the bridge of the Starship Enterprise. What the crap is all of this hi-tech stuff? How the heck do I check out a book?
I placed the entire stack of items I wanted to check out on a table in front of a computer monitor. As I was looking around to see what to do next, the monitor began to list the items I had placed on the table. "You've got to be kidding me. What the hell is this?" A security guard nearby walked over and gave me directions on how to check out items on "our new toy."
I was instructed to place my books in a stack on the table. The table top, as if by magic, scanned the stack of books, CDs, and DVDs and immediately checked them out. I received a receipt when it was through. I did not have to pass the books by hand under a scanner. All I did was set the books down on the table.
Naturally, I missed something and set off an alarm as I was leaving the library. With all this hi-tech gear to make my library experience a pleasant one, I sure seem to be setting off a lot of alarms. In the old days with just a stamp I don't remember ever setting off an alarm. Not once. I eventually discovered that I was not leaving my stack of books on the table long enough. (I guess the hi-tech gizmo needs time to save me time.)
To check the library materials back in is another story. You punch a button on a computer screen to begin. Then you place each item under a red light hovering over a conveyor belt hidden inside a slot in the wall. The book, CD, or DVD, whatever, is slowly sucked in by the conveyor belt. As it passes by a scanner the red light turns green. It's similar to standing in front of a microwave oven in your kitchen and slowly placing a book inside it, only to see it disappear into nothingness, sucked into oblivion.
I suppose all of this Star Trek technology enables the library to safely check out items to the public without having to pay someone to stamp a card. It is a slick operation when you think about it. Walk in, find your book, lay it on a table, walk out. But does it save time? Maybe. If I can stop setting off the alarm.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
RSS Feed from www.MyRoadArt.com
My fireworks video from Green Valley Ranch Casino this July 4th, "in support of the troops" as its theme, along with music by Leonard Cohen.
My fireworks video from Green Valley Ranch Casino this July 4th, "in support of the troops" as its theme, along with music by Leonard Cohen.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Scatter Shooting on July 4th
Day 89 in Las Vegas Valley
Just a few things on my mind today, while I sit here and sweat on the patio drinking coffee:
Governor Palin is resigning. So what. I don't really care, though I'm a conservative and have voted Republican my whole life. I don't think she, nor Mitt Romney, are the future for conservatives. But we can't seem to find a GOP candidate who can keep their pants on, so the 1012 election doesn't look pretty.
_______
Fireworks are going to be all over the valley tonight. I'll be watching the show from the roof of a casino, overlooking the panoramic vista of Sin City under fire. Should be a cool night, too. The winds need to take a night off, however, or they could ruin it all.
_______
I'll be moving into a new home next Friday, closer to work and within walking distance of The District and the GVR. Should be nice, though Summerlin is a great place, too.
_______
Is it just me, or does Al Franken look like he belongs behind the meat counter at your local grocery store? It's going to be hard to take this guy seriously.
_______
I've heard all I need to hear about Michael Jackson and his will. Does anyone really care? His life is becoming a bigger circus, after death. Can we move on? And if his scuzzy ex-wife who is nothing more than a baby-maker-for-hire gets custody of those kids, then the entire Jackson clan needs to go into therapy with Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton. His kids are innocent victims and I don't see any reason to believe they will be normal, well-adjusted adults after having grown up around these people. Dr. Phil needs to step in and get Oprah to take the kids to Oprahland where they will have a chance to grow up normal like the rest of us.
_______
Happy July 4th to all our troops, my nephews Cody and Caleb included. Take care guys.
Just a few things on my mind today, while I sit here and sweat on the patio drinking coffee:
Governor Palin is resigning. So what. I don't really care, though I'm a conservative and have voted Republican my whole life. I don't think she, nor Mitt Romney, are the future for conservatives. But we can't seem to find a GOP candidate who can keep their pants on, so the 1012 election doesn't look pretty.
_______
Fireworks are going to be all over the valley tonight. I'll be watching the show from the roof of a casino, overlooking the panoramic vista of Sin City under fire. Should be a cool night, too. The winds need to take a night off, however, or they could ruin it all.
_______
I'll be moving into a new home next Friday, closer to work and within walking distance of The District and the GVR. Should be nice, though Summerlin is a great place, too.
_______
Is it just me, or does Al Franken look like he belongs behind the meat counter at your local grocery store? It's going to be hard to take this guy seriously.
_______
I've heard all I need to hear about Michael Jackson and his will. Does anyone really care? His life is becoming a bigger circus, after death. Can we move on? And if his scuzzy ex-wife who is nothing more than a baby-maker-for-hire gets custody of those kids, then the entire Jackson clan needs to go into therapy with Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton. His kids are innocent victims and I don't see any reason to believe they will be normal, well-adjusted adults after having grown up around these people. Dr. Phil needs to step in and get Oprah to take the kids to Oprahland where they will have a chance to grow up normal like the rest of us.
_______
Happy July 4th to all our troops, my nephews Cody and Caleb included. Take care guys.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
As I Choose to Remember Them
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Day 82 in the Las Vegas valley
I choose to remember these two icons as young and full of life, as I was when we first met. Both are now gone. And I have to wonder how much longer I have before I join them. Just a reminder that life ends for us all. It's up to us to make the best of it.
Michael Jackson was born the week before me on August 29, 1958 (I was born on September 5) and I remember him when we both turned 11 years old...he was singing his way to
superstardom and I was watching Farrah Fawcett on Charlie's Angels. I had the poster of Farrah (seen below) hanging on my bedroom wall. Mr. Jackson, of course, was all over the cover of Teen Magazine.
As I'm writing this, I'm sitting in a Starbucks in Henderson, Nevada, and I hear a conversation:
"All of these people dying at the same age as me....it's making me nervous. I'm starting to think my time is getting closer," says Guy Number One.
Guy Number Two is walking out the door and responds by saying, "I know what you mean. Last year I started doing Yoga and working out and now I feel a lot better. None of us know when it's our time to go."
Ms. Fawcett died after a struggle with anal cancer (no cancer is a picnic, but anal cancer must be really horrible) at the age of 62. She remained beautiful until the end. Unfortunately Mr. Jackson lost his humanity somewhere along the way between the Jackson 5 concerts I remember as a
kid, his father's abuse, and an adoring public that wouldn't leave the guy alone.
I just finished reading a book on the history of Las Vegas, and the role of Howard Hughes in developing the valley here. I thought how alike both the King of Pop and Howard Hughes were, both becoming victims of their own success.
And Farrah had those amazing...uh,...teeth.
Day 82 in the Las Vegas valley
I choose to remember these two icons as young and full of life, as I was when we first met. Both are now gone. And I have to wonder how much longer I have before I join them. Just a reminder that life ends for us all. It's up to us to make the best of it.
Michael Jackson was born the week before me on August 29, 1958 (I was born on September 5) and I remember him when we both turned 11 years old...he was singing his way to
superstardom and I was watching Farrah Fawcett on Charlie's Angels. I had the poster of Farrah (seen below) hanging on my bedroom wall. Mr. Jackson, of course, was all over the cover of Teen Magazine. As I'm writing this, I'm sitting in a Starbucks in Henderson, Nevada, and I hear a conversation:
"All of these people dying at the same age as me....it's making me nervous. I'm starting to think my time is getting closer," says Guy Number One.
Guy Number Two is walking out the door and responds by saying, "I know what you mean. Last year I started doing Yoga and working out and now I feel a lot better. None of us know when it's our time to go."
Ms. Fawcett died after a struggle with anal cancer (no cancer is a picnic, but anal cancer must be really horrible) at the age of 62. She remained beautiful until the end. Unfortunately Mr. Jackson lost his humanity somewhere along the way between the Jackson 5 concerts I remember as a
kid, his father's abuse, and an adoring public that wouldn't leave the guy alone.I just finished reading a book on the history of Las Vegas, and the role of Howard Hughes in developing the valley here. I thought how alike both the King of Pop and Howard Hughes were, both becoming victims of their own success.
And Farrah had those amazing...uh,...teeth.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Day 78 in Las Vegas
God, it's hot. Yes, Lord, it's very hot. This must be what Hell is like. And it's not even July yet.
Having found a job I'm thankful. Having found a job that is primarily an INDOOR job, I'm ecstatic and overjoyed with glee. While the unemployment rate continues to skyrocket I'm aware I've received a miracle. Thousands looking for work and I landed a pretty good job. I was told 500 resumes were submitted to the company where I now work. I hit a long shot. The first log shot I've hit in months. The odds were certainly against me.
You make your own luck, I guess. Each day I filled out online job applications for hours, trying to convince the keyboard I was worthy of a chance. Long gone are the days of walking in and talking your way into a job. Now it's all about filling out online job applications and answering questions like, "How would you react if a co-worker lied about you to the boss?"
Being older was a problem, too. I turned 50 this last year. Who wants to hire an old fart when there are thousands of 20-year olds looking for work? We of the older generation need to be thankful we have a strong work ethic, honesty, integrity, and a willingness to survive at any cost. Many 20-year olds can't tie their own shoes without help or a computer game to show them how.
But I suppose life is what happens when everything else you have planned ends up on a "To-Do" list that remains stuck in your car's ash tray.
God, it's hot. Yes, Lord, it's very hot. This must be what Hell is like. And it's not even July yet.
Having found a job I'm thankful. Having found a job that is primarily an INDOOR job, I'm ecstatic and overjoyed with glee. While the unemployment rate continues to skyrocket I'm aware I've received a miracle. Thousands looking for work and I landed a pretty good job. I was told 500 resumes were submitted to the company where I now work. I hit a long shot. The first log shot I've hit in months. The odds were certainly against me.
You make your own luck, I guess. Each day I filled out online job applications for hours, trying to convince the keyboard I was worthy of a chance. Long gone are the days of walking in and talking your way into a job. Now it's all about filling out online job applications and answering questions like, "How would you react if a co-worker lied about you to the boss?"
Being older was a problem, too. I turned 50 this last year. Who wants to hire an old fart when there are thousands of 20-year olds looking for work? We of the older generation need to be thankful we have a strong work ethic, honesty, integrity, and a willingness to survive at any cost. Many 20-year olds can't tie their own shoes without help or a computer game to show them how.
But I suppose life is what happens when everything else you have planned ends up on a "To-Do" list that remains stuck in your car's ash tray.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
I Like the Heat
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Day 41 in Las Vegas
With temperatures above 100 this weekend, the main goal is to stay in the shade. Hanging out on the patio at the local Coffee Bean is like a game of musical chairs, shifting your seat and table around as the sun moves along. "Staying in the shade is my purpose in life," I said to a fellow coffee-drinker. "Today I vow to stay out of this blazing sun."
I know we're in the desert and I expect heat. In fact, I like heat. Hot summer days remind me of home, of years growing up in a climate that had 100-degree days with 90% humidity. Nothing like north Texas heat. Heat in Las Vegas is child's play compared to the sizzle of north Texas.
But north Texas was home and I loved it. So bring on the summer sun and allow me to think of past days growing up when we had no terrorists (or at least I didn't know of any), gas was really cheap (20 cents a gallon?), school was actually safe and fun, friends were plentiful, and Mom was at home cooking supper. Bring on the sizzle and remind me of bike rides to the park, football games in the yard, kick-the-can games at night, Cowboys vs. Redskins, and Friday night parties at someone's house.
I like the heat because it burns away the fog of old age were memories often stay frozen in time. So what if I have to sweat a little.
Day 41 in Las Vegas
With temperatures above 100 this weekend, the main goal is to stay in the shade. Hanging out on the patio at the local Coffee Bean is like a game of musical chairs, shifting your seat and table around as the sun moves along. "Staying in the shade is my purpose in life," I said to a fellow coffee-drinker. "Today I vow to stay out of this blazing sun."
I know we're in the desert and I expect heat. In fact, I like heat. Hot summer days remind me of home, of years growing up in a climate that had 100-degree days with 90% humidity. Nothing like north Texas heat. Heat in Las Vegas is child's play compared to the sizzle of north Texas.
But north Texas was home and I loved it. So bring on the summer sun and allow me to think of past days growing up when we had no terrorists (or at least I didn't know of any), gas was really cheap (20 cents a gallon?), school was actually safe and fun, friends were plentiful, and Mom was at home cooking supper. Bring on the sizzle and remind me of bike rides to the park, football games in the yard, kick-the-can games at night, Cowboys vs. Redskins, and Friday night parties at someone's house.
I like the heat because it burns away the fog of old age were memories often stay frozen in time. So what if I have to sweat a little.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Happy Mothers Day
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Day 34 in Las Vegas
The Red Rock Resort and Casino were packed with Mothers today, all standing in line to get their freebies: a rose, cookies, champagne, and other odds and ends. People, most husbands, were carrying around foot-massagers and kitchen items, including something that looked like a food-smasher of some kind. The line at the give-away counter was enormous, snaking around the casino amid the slots like a serpent wagging its tail.
I left.
Don't get me wrong...I love Mothers. I miss my own Sainted Mother terribly. But a casino full of hundreds of Mothers can be dangerous. The Fathers in the crowd all seemed a little perplexed, sad mainly, and you could tell most of them preferred to be on the golf course or watching the NBA playoffs. But on Mother's Day what are you going to do? Tiger Woods and Kobe will have to wait.
As I walked toward the parking garage I passed thousands of slot machines stacked high with all kinds of goodies. One lady was hammering away at the 1-cent slot trying to balance her roses in one hand, a cookie, a box containing a foot-massager, and her purse. Another slot had three foot-massager boxes stacked high on top of it, with Mothers nearby laughing and playing and drinking champagne.
I was never so happy to climb into my car and find a nice quiet Starbucks or Coffee Bean.
Day 34 in Las Vegas
The Red Rock Resort and Casino were packed with Mothers today, all standing in line to get their freebies: a rose, cookies, champagne, and other odds and ends. People, most husbands, were carrying around foot-massagers and kitchen items, including something that looked like a food-smasher of some kind. The line at the give-away counter was enormous, snaking around the casino amid the slots like a serpent wagging its tail.
I left.
Don't get me wrong...I love Mothers. I miss my own Sainted Mother terribly. But a casino full of hundreds of Mothers can be dangerous. The Fathers in the crowd all seemed a little perplexed, sad mainly, and you could tell most of them preferred to be on the golf course or watching the NBA playoffs. But on Mother's Day what are you going to do? Tiger Woods and Kobe will have to wait.
As I walked toward the parking garage I passed thousands of slot machines stacked high with all kinds of goodies. One lady was hammering away at the 1-cent slot trying to balance her roses in one hand, a cookie, a box containing a foot-massager, and her purse. Another slot had three foot-massager boxes stacked high on top of it, with Mothers nearby laughing and playing and drinking champagne.
I was never so happy to climb into my car and find a nice quiet Starbucks or Coffee Bean.
Friday, May 1, 2009
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Day 25 in Las Vegas
Starbucks, Cheyenne at Hwy. 215
It's a beautiful morning in Summerlin, light cool breeze and mild temperatures. I know this will change as Summer arrives. I grew up in North Texas, so I can handle the heat. I bet 110 degrees here is easier to take than those 110-degree days I spent as a kid in Wichita Falls. At least here the humidity won't kill you.
The talk around the coffee shops this morning is about the unexpected death of local entertainer Danny Gans. Currently appearing at The Encore, he was only 52. No news yet on the cause of his death. He was a big draw on The Strip and well known for his show. His death is another reminder to keep things in perspective. Taking one day at a time, and living each day as if it were your last, is not the worst advice I've taken.
I'm really beginning to like it here, for whatever reason. For now, anyway, I'm looking forward to building a life here. In a city built on the bad luck of others, I feel I'm right at home. It's been my bad luck (or timing) to settle down in a city being slaughtered by the worst economy in decades. Maybe that's one reason I'm drawn to this place. We both are being kicked in the groin by unemployment, a sagging real estate market, and politicians who can't get their act together. Maybe Las Vegas and I have a common goal: arise from the ashes and come out stronger on the other side of the misery currently besetting us.
Day 25 in Las Vegas
Starbucks, Cheyenne at Hwy. 215
It's a beautiful morning in Summerlin, light cool breeze and mild temperatures. I know this will change as Summer arrives. I grew up in North Texas, so I can handle the heat. I bet 110 degrees here is easier to take than those 110-degree days I spent as a kid in Wichita Falls. At least here the humidity won't kill you.
The talk around the coffee shops this morning is about the unexpected death of local entertainer Danny Gans. Currently appearing at The Encore, he was only 52. No news yet on the cause of his death. He was a big draw on The Strip and well known for his show. His death is another reminder to keep things in perspective. Taking one day at a time, and living each day as if it were your last, is not the worst advice I've taken.
I'm really beginning to like it here, for whatever reason. For now, anyway, I'm looking forward to building a life here. In a city built on the bad luck of others, I feel I'm right at home. It's been my bad luck (or timing) to settle down in a city being slaughtered by the worst economy in decades. Maybe that's one reason I'm drawn to this place. We both are being kicked in the groin by unemployment, a sagging real estate market, and politicians who can't get their act together. Maybe Las Vegas and I have a common goal: arise from the ashes and come out stronger on the other side of the misery currently besetting us.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
I Need Real Estate Investors
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Day 23 in Las Vegas
Starbucks, Cheyenne at Hwy. 215
The two women were talking about real estate, so my ears perked up. Real estate talk is among my favorite hobbies. As a real estate broker myself, I spend half my time reading and learning all I can about short sales, wholesaling, selling, marketing, investing, Realtors, brokerage, and finance. Most recently I've been studying short sales, since banks are holding a lot of unwanted properties. (With a short sale, you're asking the bank to take less than what is owed on the property...and many times the bank will jump at a short sale in order to minimize the loss.)
The women talking nearby were looking for a home. One woman was obviously the agent and the other was a home buyer. The agent told the buyer that the market was near bottoming out and apparently things will begin to turn around next year. It seems what I've been reading in the paper agrees.
The Las Vegas area's job market has plummeted, reaching an unemployment rate of around 10%. Home prices have taken a beating and the commercial sector is in the toilet. It's a great time for those who have cash, however. Bargains are available on all kinds of properties. And with the market rebounding in 2010, it's a great time to invest.
I'm looking to build my list of investors in the Las Vegas area and will be designing a web site to promote my own real estate activity in the coming year. The real estate business has always been in my blood and I enjoy making money in it when I can.
If you're an investor, email me at mitch (at) mitchellaiken.com. I'm a wholesaler looking to go on the hunt for some great deals. Contact me and let's make some money!
Day 23 in Las Vegas
Starbucks, Cheyenne at Hwy. 215
The two women were talking about real estate, so my ears perked up. Real estate talk is among my favorite hobbies. As a real estate broker myself, I spend half my time reading and learning all I can about short sales, wholesaling, selling, marketing, investing, Realtors, brokerage, and finance. Most recently I've been studying short sales, since banks are holding a lot of unwanted properties. (With a short sale, you're asking the bank to take less than what is owed on the property...and many times the bank will jump at a short sale in order to minimize the loss.)
The women talking nearby were looking for a home. One woman was obviously the agent and the other was a home buyer. The agent told the buyer that the market was near bottoming out and apparently things will begin to turn around next year. It seems what I've been reading in the paper agrees.
The Las Vegas area's job market has plummeted, reaching an unemployment rate of around 10%. Home prices have taken a beating and the commercial sector is in the toilet. It's a great time for those who have cash, however. Bargains are available on all kinds of properties. And with the market rebounding in 2010, it's a great time to invest.
I'm looking to build my list of investors in the Las Vegas area and will be designing a web site to promote my own real estate activity in the coming year. The real estate business has always been in my blood and I enjoy making money in it when I can.
If you're an investor, email me at mitch (at) mitchellaiken.com. I'm a wholesaler looking to go on the hunt for some great deals. Contact me and let's make some money!
Saturday, April 25, 2009
The Employment Center
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Day 19 in Las Vegas
The Coffee Bean's black couch
The walk through the lobby is no problem. I know where I'm going so the maze of carpet and tile don't confuse me. The furniture does, however. I'm early for my meeting so I sit down in a very weird looking chair in the lobby of the resort. The frame is made of wire mesh, the cushion not that soft. When will furniture designers get a clue that a chair should be comfortable to sit in? People are walking about, a bellman checking a computer terminal, a suited employee observing the scene.
After a few minutes I exit the front doors of the lobby and turn right. I'm looking for a metal door with a sign above it: "Employment Center." I find it about a hundred yards down the sidewalk from the entrance to the resort. For some reason my heart begins to beat faster, sweat begins to accumulate beneath my pits and I begin to feel a nervousness inch it's way up my spine.
"Why the hell am I so nervous," I ask myself. "What's the problem?" I look up at the "Employment Center" sign and take a deep breath. I've heard that deep breathing helps relieve anxiety.
I enter the metal doors and see a small sign pointing left saying "Team Members." Well I'm not a team member. I've not been part of a team in years. Thankfully another sign is pointing right with the words "Employment Center." The haves and the have-nots. The employed and the unemployed. The paid and the unpaid. Being separated by these two signs gives me pause: go left because you have a job, go right if you need one.
I go right, of course. As I enter the Employment Center waiting room it immediately occurs to me that I'm in a doctor's office. Am I lost? Chairs lined up in neat little rows, no signs of life or a sense of humor. The one difference is the flat-panel screen hanging on the wall to the left. I've never seen a doctor's office with a television in it. Along another wall are two computer terminals. The room is spare of any decoration, save for a wall poster or two.
Opposite me are two side doors leading to small offices. After a few moments I notice a sign-in sheet. My job application was done completely online and the web site automatically assigned me an interview time. The sign-in sheet is for those who have an appointment, as it clearly spells out. No walk-ins welcome. I'm glad to be a part of the included, the ones who have an appointment time. I sign my name and my time of arrival, happy to see I am three minutes early.
CNN is broadcasting on the flat-panel screen as I sit down in the waiting area. A discussion over torture is underway, and former vice-president Dick Cheney's belief that waterboarding was an effective use of the CIA's time is the topic. So what if some terrorist gets water thrown on him a few times...what's the big deal? Job-hunting is far worse.
I think to myself at that moment that looking for a job in this economic downturn is a kind of torture. How bad can waterboarding be? Try filling out dozens of online job applications.
I see nine other job-seekers waiting along with me in the sterile room. We are all in our own little worlds, no one is saying anything. My attempt at a humorous remark is unnoticed. Tough room. We all just sit there, some are staring at the pundits on CNN, others are staring at their laps.
Twenty minutes later I'm called into one of the offices. I feel like I am back in high school, being called into the Principal's office. "Now, Mitch, I know you didn't want to insult Ms. Dollar that way. You've got to stop making fun of the way people dress. Especially your teachers." Funny how looking for a job makes you feel like a scared, young, inexperienced high school kid.
"Sorry for the delay," the young woman says. I'm old enough to be her father. "Won't you have a seat?"
The office is small, not much more than a closet. The desk and chairs take up most of the room. An enormous computer monitor sits to one side, blocking my view of the interviewer. She punches a while on her keyboard and brings up my file. She is reviewing my online job application and has a curious smile on her face, a smile that seems glued on rather than authentic. She is going through the motions. Another job application, another interview, another day doing the same old routine of asking silly questions and filling out silly forms. Yada, yada.
I say to myself, "Why pay a real person to sit here and go through this...why not just have me punch in answers on a computer? Does she even know I'm sitting here?"
After a couple of goofy questions like "How would you provide someone with top level service?" and "Do you like being a part of a team?", she calmly says my file will be provided to the appropriate departments and if an opening is available that fits my application then I will be contacted. Yada, yada, yada.
As I walk out of the Employment Center I glance up at the CNN broadcast on the flat-panel screen. Wolf Blitzer is moderating a discussion about bringing Dick Cheney and other former Bush administrators to justice for war crimes. I look at the other faces staring blankly out into space waiting to be called in for their interview and I think I'm in an episode of the Twilight Zone. Someone change the channel.
Day 19 in Las Vegas
The Coffee Bean's black couch
The walk through the lobby is no problem. I know where I'm going so the maze of carpet and tile don't confuse me. The furniture does, however. I'm early for my meeting so I sit down in a very weird looking chair in the lobby of the resort. The frame is made of wire mesh, the cushion not that soft. When will furniture designers get a clue that a chair should be comfortable to sit in? People are walking about, a bellman checking a computer terminal, a suited employee observing the scene.
After a few minutes I exit the front doors of the lobby and turn right. I'm looking for a metal door with a sign above it: "Employment Center." I find it about a hundred yards down the sidewalk from the entrance to the resort. For some reason my heart begins to beat faster, sweat begins to accumulate beneath my pits and I begin to feel a nervousness inch it's way up my spine.
"Why the hell am I so nervous," I ask myself. "What's the problem?" I look up at the "Employment Center" sign and take a deep breath. I've heard that deep breathing helps relieve anxiety.
I enter the metal doors and see a small sign pointing left saying "Team Members." Well I'm not a team member. I've not been part of a team in years. Thankfully another sign is pointing right with the words "Employment Center." The haves and the have-nots. The employed and the unemployed. The paid and the unpaid. Being separated by these two signs gives me pause: go left because you have a job, go right if you need one.
I go right, of course. As I enter the Employment Center waiting room it immediately occurs to me that I'm in a doctor's office. Am I lost? Chairs lined up in neat little rows, no signs of life or a sense of humor. The one difference is the flat-panel screen hanging on the wall to the left. I've never seen a doctor's office with a television in it. Along another wall are two computer terminals. The room is spare of any decoration, save for a wall poster or two.
Opposite me are two side doors leading to small offices. After a few moments I notice a sign-in sheet. My job application was done completely online and the web site automatically assigned me an interview time. The sign-in sheet is for those who have an appointment, as it clearly spells out. No walk-ins welcome. I'm glad to be a part of the included, the ones who have an appointment time. I sign my name and my time of arrival, happy to see I am three minutes early.
CNN is broadcasting on the flat-panel screen as I sit down in the waiting area. A discussion over torture is underway, and former vice-president Dick Cheney's belief that waterboarding was an effective use of the CIA's time is the topic. So what if some terrorist gets water thrown on him a few times...what's the big deal? Job-hunting is far worse.
I think to myself at that moment that looking for a job in this economic downturn is a kind of torture. How bad can waterboarding be? Try filling out dozens of online job applications.
I see nine other job-seekers waiting along with me in the sterile room. We are all in our own little worlds, no one is saying anything. My attempt at a humorous remark is unnoticed. Tough room. We all just sit there, some are staring at the pundits on CNN, others are staring at their laps.
Twenty minutes later I'm called into one of the offices. I feel like I am back in high school, being called into the Principal's office. "Now, Mitch, I know you didn't want to insult Ms. Dollar that way. You've got to stop making fun of the way people dress. Especially your teachers." Funny how looking for a job makes you feel like a scared, young, inexperienced high school kid.
"Sorry for the delay," the young woman says. I'm old enough to be her father. "Won't you have a seat?"
The office is small, not much more than a closet. The desk and chairs take up most of the room. An enormous computer monitor sits to one side, blocking my view of the interviewer. She punches a while on her keyboard and brings up my file. She is reviewing my online job application and has a curious smile on her face, a smile that seems glued on rather than authentic. She is going through the motions. Another job application, another interview, another day doing the same old routine of asking silly questions and filling out silly forms. Yada, yada.
I say to myself, "Why pay a real person to sit here and go through this...why not just have me punch in answers on a computer? Does she even know I'm sitting here?"
After a couple of goofy questions like "How would you provide someone with top level service?" and "Do you like being a part of a team?", she calmly says my file will be provided to the appropriate departments and if an opening is available that fits my application then I will be contacted. Yada, yada, yada.
As I walk out of the Employment Center I glance up at the CNN broadcast on the flat-panel screen. Wolf Blitzer is moderating a discussion about bringing Dick Cheney and other former Bush administrators to justice for war crimes. I look at the other faces staring blankly out into space waiting to be called in for their interview and I think I'm in an episode of the Twilight Zone. Someone change the channel.
Monday, April 20, 2009
I Am...I Said...
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Day 14 in Las Vegas
The Coffee Bean
I've been putting this off for while, but now it's time to "get-ur done": order a certified birth certificate and replace my social security card.
Now at first glance it doesn't seem all that important. I've lived most of my adult life without a wallet-sized social security card, and I've never seen an official copy of my birth certificate. Somehow I survived college and graduate school, and about 30 years of adult-career-grown-up-type jobs without ever having to produce either a birth certificate or a social security card. I guess I've been lucky.
So the time has come to do the adult thing and acquire these two all-important, identity-proving documents. Since the 9/11 attacks and the birth of Homeland Security, proving one's identity has become a little more sticky. More employers are doing background checks and double-checking the proof of your identity. So it's become apparent that everyone should have both a certified copy of their birth certificate and an official social security card. (Unless you're an illegal allien...then all you need is the ability to speak Spanish and look really sad.)
I asked my father, "So...where I do go to get a birth certificate? The hospital I was born in? Have you got a copy?" My father's response, "Well...you probably need to go to the county clerk's office."
My father is usually smarter than me when it comes to these things, so I took his advice and went to the Nacogdoches County web site and sent an email to the County Clerk for instructions on how to obtain a birth certificate. I was emailed back with these instructions: "...pay $23 and send a letter requesting the certificate and tell us why you want it." Tell you why I want it? What kind of nitwit are you? "Well, I'd like to frame it and place on the wall next to my embossed driver's license!"
My next chore was to visit the Social Security Administration office this morning on S. Buffalo. I walked into the "Card Center", took a number, and waited for about 20 minutes. The lady behind the bullet-proof glass was kind enough, though a little tight around the buns if you know what I mean. She was all business. But she did have a nice manner about her. After filling out a form and showing my driver's license I was given a temporary form proving I exist. I was told I would have to wait a week to receive my card in the mail. "Don't laminate it," she said seriously as if to imply that if I did, Leon Panetta would send a CIA operative to my house to go Jason Bourne on my ass. "Yes, ma'am," I said and I quickly left the building.
Day 14 in Las Vegas
The Coffee Bean
I've been putting this off for while, but now it's time to "get-ur done": order a certified birth certificate and replace my social security card.
Now at first glance it doesn't seem all that important. I've lived most of my adult life without a wallet-sized social security card, and I've never seen an official copy of my birth certificate. Somehow I survived college and graduate school, and about 30 years of adult-career-grown-up-type jobs without ever having to produce either a birth certificate or a social security card. I guess I've been lucky.
So the time has come to do the adult thing and acquire these two all-important, identity-proving documents. Since the 9/11 attacks and the birth of Homeland Security, proving one's identity has become a little more sticky. More employers are doing background checks and double-checking the proof of your identity. So it's become apparent that everyone should have both a certified copy of their birth certificate and an official social security card. (Unless you're an illegal allien...then all you need is the ability to speak Spanish and look really sad.)
I asked my father, "So...where I do go to get a birth certificate? The hospital I was born in? Have you got a copy?" My father's response, "Well...you probably need to go to the county clerk's office."
My father is usually smarter than me when it comes to these things, so I took his advice and went to the Nacogdoches County web site and sent an email to the County Clerk for instructions on how to obtain a birth certificate. I was emailed back with these instructions: "...pay $23 and send a letter requesting the certificate and tell us why you want it." Tell you why I want it? What kind of nitwit are you? "Well, I'd like to frame it and place on the wall next to my embossed driver's license!"
My next chore was to visit the Social Security Administration office this morning on S. Buffalo. I walked into the "Card Center", took a number, and waited for about 20 minutes. The lady behind the bullet-proof glass was kind enough, though a little tight around the buns if you know what I mean. She was all business. But she did have a nice manner about her. After filling out a form and showing my driver's license I was given a temporary form proving I exist. I was told I would have to wait a week to receive my card in the mail. "Don't laminate it," she said seriously as if to imply that if I did, Leon Panetta would send a CIA operative to my house to go Jason Bourne on my ass. "Yes, ma'am," I said and I quickly left the building.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
The Past Week in Review
(rss feed from http://www.MyRoadArt.com)
A look back over my shoulder at this past week:
1. Watching people salivate over a drawing at the Red Rock Casino has me laughing...because I'm just like them. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights we all stand around and wait for our club card number to appear on a video screen. Ten people receive $1,000 each, plus there's a drawing for a new $75,000 Escalade.
2. A move to tax legalized prostitution in Nevada failed, as predicted. The brothels were willing to pay $5 per "client" as a tax in exchange for some respect. But the state legislature balked. They are willing to make prostitution legal, but don't want to tax it like a legitimate business. Brothels are good for tourism. But treat them like a normal business? Nope.
3. It snowed one morning, for ten minutes, on my way to Starbucks.
4. The Coffee Bean is my new favorite hang-out.
5. The MGM Mirage survived another week. As The Strip's largest employer, the developer of CityCenter keeps plugging ahead without the help of its partner, Dubai World. Will they file bankruptcy and attempt to reorganize a $13 billion debt? Will CityCenter open this fall as expected? The answers depend on what you read and who you talk to.
6. The local economy is in shambles, but some say they see signs of recovery. Housing sales are increasing, mainly due to prices dropping through the floor. If you're looking to buy real estate, bargains exist on every street corner. Example: condos selling for $275,000 can be had for $160,000. The number of foreclosures has more than doubled.
7. My right thumb still hurts. I did something to it before I left Carmel two weeks ago. When I bend it at the knuckle, a pain shoots down to the palm of my hand.
8. I met a very nice lady at a UPS Store. She's taking over a new store in June. UPS Stores in general do fairly well if they are managed well and are located in the right area. While shipping is down, the other services they offer help keep the cash coming in.
9. I like Facebook. I hate MySpace. I like email. I hate cell phones.
10. I sold a domain name through GoDaddy's Auction Service and found it to be a pain in the groin, mainly because the buyer was a city government.
A look back over my shoulder at this past week:
1. Watching people salivate over a drawing at the Red Rock Casino has me laughing...because I'm just like them. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights we all stand around and wait for our club card number to appear on a video screen. Ten people receive $1,000 each, plus there's a drawing for a new $75,000 Escalade.
2. A move to tax legalized prostitution in Nevada failed, as predicted. The brothels were willing to pay $5 per "client" as a tax in exchange for some respect. But the state legislature balked. They are willing to make prostitution legal, but don't want to tax it like a legitimate business. Brothels are good for tourism. But treat them like a normal business? Nope.
3. It snowed one morning, for ten minutes, on my way to Starbucks.
4. The Coffee Bean is my new favorite hang-out.
5. The MGM Mirage survived another week. As The Strip's largest employer, the developer of CityCenter keeps plugging ahead without the help of its partner, Dubai World. Will they file bankruptcy and attempt to reorganize a $13 billion debt? Will CityCenter open this fall as expected? The answers depend on what you read and who you talk to.
6. The local economy is in shambles, but some say they see signs of recovery. Housing sales are increasing, mainly due to prices dropping through the floor. If you're looking to buy real estate, bargains exist on every street corner. Example: condos selling for $275,000 can be had for $160,000. The number of foreclosures has more than doubled.
7. My right thumb still hurts. I did something to it before I left Carmel two weeks ago. When I bend it at the knuckle, a pain shoots down to the palm of my hand.
8. I met a very nice lady at a UPS Store. She's taking over a new store in June. UPS Stores in general do fairly well if they are managed well and are located in the right area. While shipping is down, the other services they offer help keep the cash coming in.
9. I like Facebook. I hate MySpace. I like email. I hate cell phones.
10. I sold a domain name through GoDaddy's Auction Service and found it to be a pain in the groin, mainly because the buyer was a city government.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Haiku #3: "To Freeze or Not"
To Freeze or Not
by Mitchell R. Aiken
Warm days, cool nights here.
The weather can't seem to choose.
Freeze them, or sizzle.
.
The ying and yang of
It all makes me long for a
Summer of pure heat.
.
I'll get my wish soon.
Hundred degree days will come,
Melting my yingyang.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
A Brief Visit to Hooters and the MGM
Day 10 in Las Vegas
The Coffee Bean, on my favorite black couch
I walked through the Hooters Casino this afternoon. It's a rather casual, no-frills, kind of place when compared to the glitz of the MGM across the street. The word for Hooters that comes to mind is "unkempt", like a child's room that is messy and needs a good cleaning. I suppose that's an unfair judgement since Hooters doesn't claim to reach out to the high class clients of the more glamorous properties, so I shouldn't compare them. I'm just taking note of the little details I notice when I walk through a property.
For example, the first thing I noticed at Hooters was in the elevator. You can usually tell the class of a joint by its elevators and its bathrooms. The garage elevator at Hooters had lights knocked out and graffiti stains. In addition, it shook and rattled and noisily made its journey from the third level downward where it finally deposited me safely on the casino floor.
I don't want to be overly judgemental about Hooters. It's just an observation of the little things, the things that add up to an overall impression of a place.
When I walked across the street to the MGM, of course, I encountered a completely different world. Again it's unfair to compare the MGM to the Hooters, so I will not.
The lions at the MGM were feisty and putting on a show for a nice crowd huddled around the glass cage. I felt sorry for the lions. What must life be like for them? Created for the wild, to be masters of their domain, to conquer nature as one of the grandest beasts in the land. I could almost see in the eyes of one lion a sense of doom, a sense of resignation and defeat as if to say, "How the hell did I end up here in a glass case as show fodder for a bunch of tourists?"
As I walked around and observed the crowds and watched a few hands of poker in the pit I felt like I was in a glass case. Is someone watching me?
On my way back to Summerlin, a radio news report said that billionaire investor Carl Icahn advises the MGM Mirage to file bankruptcy and reorganize their $13 billion debt. No wonder the lion looked so sad.
The Coffee Bean, on my favorite black couch
I walked through the Hooters Casino this afternoon. It's a rather casual, no-frills, kind of place when compared to the glitz of the MGM across the street. The word for Hooters that comes to mind is "unkempt", like a child's room that is messy and needs a good cleaning. I suppose that's an unfair judgement since Hooters doesn't claim to reach out to the high class clients of the more glamorous properties, so I shouldn't compare them. I'm just taking note of the little details I notice when I walk through a property.
For example, the first thing I noticed at Hooters was in the elevator. You can usually tell the class of a joint by its elevators and its bathrooms. The garage elevator at Hooters had lights knocked out and graffiti stains. In addition, it shook and rattled and noisily made its journey from the third level downward where it finally deposited me safely on the casino floor.
I don't want to be overly judgemental about Hooters. It's just an observation of the little things, the things that add up to an overall impression of a place.
When I walked across the street to the MGM, of course, I encountered a completely different world. Again it's unfair to compare the MGM to the Hooters, so I will not.
The lions at the MGM were feisty and putting on a show for a nice crowd huddled around the glass cage. I felt sorry for the lions. What must life be like for them? Created for the wild, to be masters of their domain, to conquer nature as one of the grandest beasts in the land. I could almost see in the eyes of one lion a sense of doom, a sense of resignation and defeat as if to say, "How the hell did I end up here in a glass case as show fodder for a bunch of tourists?"
As I walked around and observed the crowds and watched a few hands of poker in the pit I felt like I was in a glass case. Is someone watching me?
On my way back to Summerlin, a radio news report said that billionaire investor Carl Icahn advises the MGM Mirage to file bankruptcy and reorganize their $13 billion debt. No wonder the lion looked so sad.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Vegas Traffic a Nightmare
Spent three days this afternoon navigating the nightmare traffic east of downtown. Every street is under construction or being widened or is just too backed up with traffic. Seems like traffic east of town is far worst than west of town, so I intend to avoid the area north and east of UNLV.
There's also construction near downtown and of course the area around CityCenter is horrible. For a city that's crumbling beneath the boulder of an economic depression and shrinking tourism base, it seems like a lot of people still live here. Why don't some of you people move to Laughlin?
____________________________________________
There's an outside chance that CityCenter will halt construction, putting thousands more out of work. Oh joy. What a mess that would be. That's why the powers-in-charge are doing their best to keep the payments coming so construction on the megabillion dollar complex will continue. Dubai World, half owner of the monster, is balking on the deal and causing MGM Mirage all kinds of fits. Will MGM and Dubai work out their differences and see CityCenter completed next fall? Some say it's doubtful, given the current economic mess. But MGM Mirage seems empowered to move ahead and feels Dubai World will eventually come around.
There's so much at stake, I'm sure the deal will get done between these two behemoths. A lot strutting and pawing will commence during negotiations, but both sides will eventually cave in and come to an agreement, each side claiming its own victory. Should CityCenter shut down, it'll become the largest casino property for rats and homeless people in the country.
There's also construction near downtown and of course the area around CityCenter is horrible. For a city that's crumbling beneath the boulder of an economic depression and shrinking tourism base, it seems like a lot of people still live here. Why don't some of you people move to Laughlin?
____________________________________________
There's an outside chance that CityCenter will halt construction, putting thousands more out of work. Oh joy. What a mess that would be. That's why the powers-in-charge are doing their best to keep the payments coming so construction on the megabillion dollar complex will continue. Dubai World, half owner of the monster, is balking on the deal and causing MGM Mirage all kinds of fits. Will MGM and Dubai work out their differences and see CityCenter completed next fall? Some say it's doubtful, given the current economic mess. But MGM Mirage seems empowered to move ahead and feels Dubai World will eventually come around.
There's so much at stake, I'm sure the deal will get done between these two behemoths. A lot strutting and pawing will commence during negotiations, but both sides will eventually cave in and come to an agreement, each side claiming its own victory. Should CityCenter shut down, it'll become the largest casino property for rats and homeless people in the country.
April Snow in Las Vegas. What the...?
Day 9 in Las Vegas
Starbucks near the Red Rock Casino
It's cold in the desert this morning. So cold, in fact, by the time I made it to Starbucks it was snowing. Pretty white flakes, floating above the hood of my car, melting on the windshield, making me think I was still asleep and caught up in some weird dream.
I'm the first to admit that seeing it snow in Las Vegas in April was a little shocking. But after twenty minutes, it was back to being cold, cloudy, dreary, and wet. The forecast calls for sun and about 90 degrees by Saturday.
Starbucks near the Red Rock Casino
It's cold in the desert this morning. So cold, in fact, by the time I made it to Starbucks it was snowing. Pretty white flakes, floating above the hood of my car, melting on the windshield, making me think I was still asleep and caught up in some weird dream.
I'm the first to admit that seeing it snow in Las Vegas in April was a little shocking. But after twenty minutes, it was back to being cold, cloudy, dreary, and wet. The forecast calls for sun and about 90 degrees by Saturday.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Traveler's Haiku #2
"Traveler's Haiku #2"
by Mitchell R. Aiken
On the road again,
watching each mile pass beneath
me like a cold snake.
Striking the town lights
after dusk, snapping at scenes,
slurping gas and oil,
as the wind blows east
into the desert sands and
a Red Rock Canyon.
by Mitchell R. Aiken
On the road again,
watching each mile pass beneath
me like a cold snake.
Striking the town lights
after dusk, snapping at scenes,
slurping gas and oil,
as the wind blows east
into the desert sands and
a Red Rock Canyon.
Art District? What Art District? Did You Say There Was An Art District?
Checking online I discovered that the so-called "art district" is located downtown near Charleston and Fourth St. It's sometimes referred to as "18b", a clever name that comes from the idea that the original "arts district" comprised 18 blocks of dowtown.
But I drove there earlier this week and for the life of me could not see an "arts district". I saw two, maybe three, industrial buildings that looked like contemporary art galleries of some kind, but no "district." I guess I just didn't look in the right place.
I followed the sign on Fourth Street that said "Art District" with an arrow pointed west and discovered three blocks of bail bondsmen. Maybe they paint oils and pastels while waiting to get Bubba out of jail. I looked for signs of fine art, galleries, anything resembling an "arts district" and found nothing.
I've spoken to enough locals to understand that Las Vegas is not exactly "fine art friendly." For the most part, fine art is not on the local radar screen. But I've been here only a week, so maybe I'm being a little hasty in my assessment. UNLV has an Art Department, so art is taking place here somewhere. I just can't find the place where you can actually sell it.
I know The Strip has a casino or two that sells expensive fine art to wealthy tourists through their galleries, but that's not an "arts district." I'm looking for the place where artists gather, work, and sell their creations. Is there such a place in Sin City?
But I drove there earlier this week and for the life of me could not see an "arts district". I saw two, maybe three, industrial buildings that looked like contemporary art galleries of some kind, but no "district." I guess I just didn't look in the right place.
I followed the sign on Fourth Street that said "Art District" with an arrow pointed west and discovered three blocks of bail bondsmen. Maybe they paint oils and pastels while waiting to get Bubba out of jail. I looked for signs of fine art, galleries, anything resembling an "arts district" and found nothing.
I've spoken to enough locals to understand that Las Vegas is not exactly "fine art friendly." For the most part, fine art is not on the local radar screen. But I've been here only a week, so maybe I'm being a little hasty in my assessment. UNLV has an Art Department, so art is taking place here somewhere. I just can't find the place where you can actually sell it.
I know The Strip has a casino or two that sells expensive fine art to wealthy tourists through their galleries, but that's not an "arts district." I'm looking for the place where artists gather, work, and sell their creations. Is there such a place in Sin City?
Jobs in Vegas May Require a Truckload of Permits
Day 7 in Las Vegas
Starbucks, near Red Rock Casino
As a newcomer to Vegas, I've learned that three basic work permits are needed if you are looking for a job in a casino, driving a limo, or pursuing dozens of other jobs.
1. The gaming card is issued by the Sheriff's office and is basically a criminal background check. If you have killed someone recently, you may want to try Laughlin for a job.
2. The TAM card (Technical Alcohol Management) I think is a class you take and they issue you an alcohol awareness certificate after passing a test. This is assuming you don't show up drunk because of all the work permits you are being forced to acquire.
3. The health card is issued after you recieve a TB shot and convince the doctor you don't have two heads or a symbionic lifeform from Squirk growing in your stomach.
Depending on the job you want, you may need all three cards. Geez...they don't make it easy to work in this town. I know when you have thousands of workers handling food and drink, gamblers and drinkers, and visitors from all over the world, you need to keep a lid on things. I guess this is the price you pay for working in an adult playground.
_____________________________________________________
I visited an employment agency and looked at the fine print on the job application. It said I would owe them $100 up front when I accept a job, and then pay them 65% of my first months gross earnings as a fee. This sounds a little goofy. Maybe this is standard for some agencies, but it still seems like highway robbery. I've not been to an employment agency in years, which is part of the fun. I looked at the lady and said, "If I had $100 cash and could pay you more than half my salary...I wouldn't need a job!"
The last agency I dealt with, years ago I will admit, was paid the fee by the company who hired you. I suppose I'm just a little ignorant of the way things work today.
Starbucks, near Red Rock Casino
As a newcomer to Vegas, I've learned that three basic work permits are needed if you are looking for a job in a casino, driving a limo, or pursuing dozens of other jobs.
1. The gaming card is issued by the Sheriff's office and is basically a criminal background check. If you have killed someone recently, you may want to try Laughlin for a job.
2. The TAM card (Technical Alcohol Management) I think is a class you take and they issue you an alcohol awareness certificate after passing a test. This is assuming you don't show up drunk because of all the work permits you are being forced to acquire.
3. The health card is issued after you recieve a TB shot and convince the doctor you don't have two heads or a symbionic lifeform from Squirk growing in your stomach.
Depending on the job you want, you may need all three cards. Geez...they don't make it easy to work in this town. I know when you have thousands of workers handling food and drink, gamblers and drinkers, and visitors from all over the world, you need to keep a lid on things. I guess this is the price you pay for working in an adult playground.
_____________________________________________________
I visited an employment agency and looked at the fine print on the job application. It said I would owe them $100 up front when I accept a job, and then pay them 65% of my first months gross earnings as a fee. This sounds a little goofy. Maybe this is standard for some agencies, but it still seems like highway robbery. I've not been to an employment agency in years, which is part of the fun. I looked at the lady and said, "If I had $100 cash and could pay you more than half my salary...I wouldn't need a job!"
The last agency I dealt with, years ago I will admit, was paid the fee by the company who hired you. I suppose I'm just a little ignorant of the way things work today.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Easter Boredom
Day 6 in Las Vegas
Starbucks, somewhere west of town
Can someone tell me why Starbucks must keep it so cold? I know it'll be handy when it's 113 outside, but today was very nice. I walked around The Trails Park in Summerlin and enjoyed watching some fathers teach their kids the finer points of baseball. But now I'm freezing to death in a Starbucks walk-in meat locker and wishing I had stayed and had coffee at the park.
Back to baseball. I noticed the Rangers are up to their old tricks. They start off winning the first three games at home then lose the first two on the road. The Rangers have to be the worst road team in the majors.
And speaking of majors...where was Tiger at the Masters this weekend? Golf is boring to watch unless Tiger is in the final pairing. I suppose his knee is still bothering him. He's no good coming from behind in major tournaments, so I knew he was done when he double bogied the first hole, third round.
And speaking of round...the Jr. Whopper is the best hamburger in town that cost only a dollar. Wendy's would probably be a close second.
And speaking of Wendy's...I almost lost my car in the wind storm the other night. Or at least I thought it might be blown to bits while I was walking around the Red Rock Casino. Some of the highest winds I've ever seen...er...heard (winds can't be seen I guess) made it hard to walk through the parking lot.
And speaking of parking lot...what's up with all the signs in the shopping centers that say "2 Hours Only...or You'll Be Subject to the Big Tow Truck." I saw a McDonald's employee park and walk into work. Unless he works less than two hours, something tells me they don't enforce the parking regulations. So if you don't enforce the rule, why have the rule? Just to make people nervous? Another silly example of code violations posted on real property to make people behave a certain way only to see people doing what they want to do anyway.
And speaking of silly...I plugged in my iPod for a recharge and I thought the entire thing was going to blow up. A spark or something caused the screen to flash, then go blank. I was really ticked until I shut it off and prayed over it. Then I let it cool off...which wasn't hard since I was in Starbucks. Finally I hit the reset button and all was well. Take away my iPod and I'm toast...even in Starbucks.
Starbucks, somewhere west of town
Can someone tell me why Starbucks must keep it so cold? I know it'll be handy when it's 113 outside, but today was very nice. I walked around The Trails Park in Summerlin and enjoyed watching some fathers teach their kids the finer points of baseball. But now I'm freezing to death in a Starbucks walk-in meat locker and wishing I had stayed and had coffee at the park.
Back to baseball. I noticed the Rangers are up to their old tricks. They start off winning the first three games at home then lose the first two on the road. The Rangers have to be the worst road team in the majors.
And speaking of majors...where was Tiger at the Masters this weekend? Golf is boring to watch unless Tiger is in the final pairing. I suppose his knee is still bothering him. He's no good coming from behind in major tournaments, so I knew he was done when he double bogied the first hole, third round.
And speaking of round...the Jr. Whopper is the best hamburger in town that cost only a dollar. Wendy's would probably be a close second.
And speaking of Wendy's...I almost lost my car in the wind storm the other night. Or at least I thought it might be blown to bits while I was walking around the Red Rock Casino. Some of the highest winds I've ever seen...er...heard (winds can't be seen I guess) made it hard to walk through the parking lot.
And speaking of parking lot...what's up with all the signs in the shopping centers that say "2 Hours Only...or You'll Be Subject to the Big Tow Truck." I saw a McDonald's employee park and walk into work. Unless he works less than two hours, something tells me they don't enforce the parking regulations. So if you don't enforce the rule, why have the rule? Just to make people nervous? Another silly example of code violations posted on real property to make people behave a certain way only to see people doing what they want to do anyway.
And speaking of silly...I plugged in my iPod for a recharge and I thought the entire thing was going to blow up. A spark or something caused the screen to flash, then go blank. I was really ticked until I shut it off and prayed over it. Then I let it cool off...which wasn't hard since I was in Starbucks. Finally I hit the reset button and all was well. Take away my iPod and I'm toast...even in Starbucks.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Day 5 in Las Vegas
The Coffee Bean, near Red Rock Casino
I have discovered I like it here, so far. The area around Town Center and Summerlin Parkway is especially nice. Close your eyes and you could be in northern Tucson, Scottsdale, or any number of nice suburbs around the southwest. Out here, you can easily forget that The Strip is located a few miles east. Look west toward Red Rock Canyon and the mountains and forget you are in the world's biggest playground.
I've met a few locals, including a Keller Williams real estate broker, a entrepreneur who sells DVDs and books online and is a distributer for SendOutCards.com. I've met a photographer/mountain climber/trail guide from Seattle who has a Nikon D300 I covet. Plus a few business owners who I've met while looking for a job. Looking for work in this economic recession is a challenge, but one I enjoy. Looking for a job helps you learn the city, meet some locals, and you get a sense of what's happening in the local market and economy.
Whenever I've entered a new city, knowing that I'm going to stay awhile, I immediately begin looking for a job. In Las Vegas, as in many cities, the unemployment rate has skyrocketed. But jobs are still available; it just takes some footwork and patience to find them. If you haven't hit the job-hunting trail in a while, understand this: most companies now take applications online and it can be a real pain in the neck. Many sites use questionaires to test your personality type and work ethic, and these drawn out sessions border on the ridiculous.
I long for the old days when you could walk in for a job interview on the spot, fill out an application, get hired or not, then leave. While many small retail stores in shopping strips may post a Help Wanted sign, most franchise companies will simply send you to their web site.
I've been in Las Vegas before, but never for five days straight. I'm beginning to develop some impressions of the place and people who live here. It's no mystery that the health of Las Vegas is tied to the gaming industry.
For reasons I can't comprehend, many leaders in the casino industry were unable to see the current economic crisis coming. As a real estate broker, I attended meetings in 2000 that predicted this very situation. The signs were all there. A housing and credit crisis was coming. (We were told in our meetings in 2000/2001 that the crisis would hit in 2010. Evidently the 9/11 attacks pushed the timetable forward a bit.) So I'm really amazed when I read in the local press that no one saw this downturn coming, or that they are shocked to see a drastic decline in tourism and gaming. The old myth was that gaming and entertainment here was "recession proof."
The MGM Mirage, for example, is near bankruptcy. If it were to fail, the effects on the local economy would be devistating, says the newspaper. So here comes help, probably a bail out of some kind, to help a leading employer stay afloat. The MGM is developing a new complex, CityCenter, and the timing of such a project was always in question. Now with the current ecomomic atmosphere, the MGM is in trouble. But since they are "probably too big to fail", help is likely on the way.
Harrah's on the other hand, may have been the smart ones by holding off on developing their own new toy, the so-called "Epicenter." Back in 2006, they may have seen the writing on the wall and felt the timing wasn't right. They slowed down on their development plans. For MGM, however, it was "if we build it, they will come."
So now we find Las Vegas a little shaky, and more than a little nervous about the coming months. Signs are good that things will turn around, probably next year. But until then, I get the feeling the local business owners and residents are going to be holding their collective breaths to see what continues to happen on The Strip.
As for me, I'll keep pounding the pavement to see what job I can find.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Day One in Las Vegas
Day 1 in Las Vegas
Starbucks, near Red Rock Casino
Made a long drive to Las Vegas yesterday...525 miles. I don't think I've ever driven that far in one day without stopping before. I felt relieved it was over, but dog-tired. I left Carmel at 9:30 a.m. and arrived last night at sundown in Sin City, around 7:30 p.m. I made the drive with just two stops to stretch my legs and grab a Quarter Pounder.
Ten hours is just too long to stay on the road without a significant break. I was proud to average 52.5 miles an hour, though. Not bad when you consider the two-lane road across central California that slowed me up a bit. The drive across the Mojave Desert was maddening, too. When I see places like Mojave, it makes me wonder about the so-called overpopulated planet we live on. Looks like we have plenty of room to grow if you don't mind high winds, sand storms, and a hot blazing sun.
I'm hanging out mainly in the Red Rock Canyon area of west Las Vegas. The Spanish Trail area has an abundance of million-dollar homes, plus a very nice country club. Now if I could only come up with a million dollars.
_____________________________
I visited the campus of UNLV today. But it's Spring Break so not much was happening. The Lied Library was all but empty, just a few students working on computers. The campus was a ghost town. I spoke with a nice girl in the Fine Arts Advisors office about the art department. She was just filling in for the regulars who were gone for the Break, so she didn't have much to say. She had a nice smile, though. (I know what you're thinking...but I'm old enough to be her father...which shouldn't be a problem now that I think about it.)
Starbucks, near Red Rock Casino
Made a long drive to Las Vegas yesterday...525 miles. I don't think I've ever driven that far in one day without stopping before. I felt relieved it was over, but dog-tired. I left Carmel at 9:30 a.m. and arrived last night at sundown in Sin City, around 7:30 p.m. I made the drive with just two stops to stretch my legs and grab a Quarter Pounder.
Ten hours is just too long to stay on the road without a significant break. I was proud to average 52.5 miles an hour, though. Not bad when you consider the two-lane road across central California that slowed me up a bit. The drive across the Mojave Desert was maddening, too. When I see places like Mojave, it makes me wonder about the so-called overpopulated planet we live on. Looks like we have plenty of room to grow if you don't mind high winds, sand storms, and a hot blazing sun.
I'm hanging out mainly in the Red Rock Canyon area of west Las Vegas. The Spanish Trail area has an abundance of million-dollar homes, plus a very nice country club. Now if I could only come up with a million dollars.
_____________________________
I visited the campus of UNLV today. But it's Spring Break so not much was happening. The Lied Library was all but empty, just a few students working on computers. The campus was a ghost town. I spoke with a nice girl in the Fine Arts Advisors office about the art department. She was just filling in for the regulars who were gone for the Break, so she didn't have much to say. She had a nice smile, though. (I know what you're thinking...but I'm old enough to be her father...which shouldn't be a problem now that I think about it.)
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Day 279 on the Monterey Peninsula
Wild Goose Cafe, Carmel Valley
I'm packed and ready to go, and spending today saying good-bye and resting up for the road ahead that will lead me to Las Vegas. I'll be leaving in the morning, after exactly 280 days on the Monterey Peninsula. I'm sure I'll be back some day. The area is just too beautiful to ignore.
The beach at Carmel is among the most amazing sites in the country. Ed Weston and Ansel Adams lived here, as did hundreds of other artists and photographers caught up in the sheer beauty of the ragged coast and mountains. As an artist colony settled after the San Francisco fire at the turn of the last century, Carmel has now become a tourist destination for art lovers and beach-walkers. Of course Monterey is only a couple of miles from Carmel and is home to Fisherman's Wharf and Cannery Row. I love the area, but would have been more happy had I lived here in the early days when the peninsula was first being settled. Commercialization, over population, traffic, tourism, a state government gone wild burdening its citizens with taxes and restrictions, and a sense that an underlying class warfare is waging beneath the surface of paradise has made me long for simpler times.
The cost of housing and food is so severe, that the workers who support the economy of the Peninsula can 't afford to live there. Most laborers and medium-wage workers must drive or bus miles into the area in order to work. With most modest housing starting at $900 a month or more for a small apartment, no one making $10 an hour can afford to live within 15 miles of this paradise.
With all its beauty and offer of a wonderful lifestyle, Carmel and Monterey remains basically off limits to middle America.
I suppose it's the same across the country as the shrinking middle class gives way to the two-prong system of the Haves and the Have-nots. The widening of the classes between the rich and poor is becoming more pronounced. When a new resale shop opened near my studio I was amused at the name for the new business: "Rich Man, Poor Man." That pretty well sums it up. Resale shops are doing bang-up business during this economic crisis as middle America discovers how poor they are. The rich, of course, keep getting richer. They have their buyouts and government subsidies.
So it appears Paradise will remain the home of the rich. Middle America will discover there is no middle, only those who have money and those who do not.
_____________________________________
Speaking of the "Haves", it seems Facebook is having a wonderful year. They claim to have 200 million users now, doubling its userbase in the last seven months. Speculation is rampant about an IPO coming soon, perhaps by summer. But Mark Zuckerberg has stated "not so fast." Zuckerberg began Facebook in his college dorm and is another billionaire trying to figure out what to do with a company growing too fast. With 800 current employees, the Palo Alto juggernaut's worst case scenario is to be gobbled up by another company like Google for a few billion dollars. If I were Zuckerberg, I'd cash out and buy a house in Carmel.
Wild Goose Cafe, Carmel Valley
I'm packed and ready to go, and spending today saying good-bye and resting up for the road ahead that will lead me to Las Vegas. I'll be leaving in the morning, after exactly 280 days on the Monterey Peninsula. I'm sure I'll be back some day. The area is just too beautiful to ignore.
The beach at Carmel is among the most amazing sites in the country. Ed Weston and Ansel Adams lived here, as did hundreds of other artists and photographers caught up in the sheer beauty of the ragged coast and mountains. As an artist colony settled after the San Francisco fire at the turn of the last century, Carmel has now become a tourist destination for art lovers and beach-walkers. Of course Monterey is only a couple of miles from Carmel and is home to Fisherman's Wharf and Cannery Row. I love the area, but would have been more happy had I lived here in the early days when the peninsula was first being settled. Commercialization, over population, traffic, tourism, a state government gone wild burdening its citizens with taxes and restrictions, and a sense that an underlying class warfare is waging beneath the surface of paradise has made me long for simpler times.
The cost of housing and food is so severe, that the workers who support the economy of the Peninsula can 't afford to live there. Most laborers and medium-wage workers must drive or bus miles into the area in order to work. With most modest housing starting at $900 a month or more for a small apartment, no one making $10 an hour can afford to live within 15 miles of this paradise.
With all its beauty and offer of a wonderful lifestyle, Carmel and Monterey remains basically off limits to middle America.
I suppose it's the same across the country as the shrinking middle class gives way to the two-prong system of the Haves and the Have-nots. The widening of the classes between the rich and poor is becoming more pronounced. When a new resale shop opened near my studio I was amused at the name for the new business: "Rich Man, Poor Man." That pretty well sums it up. Resale shops are doing bang-up business during this economic crisis as middle America discovers how poor they are. The rich, of course, keep getting richer. They have their buyouts and government subsidies.
So it appears Paradise will remain the home of the rich. Middle America will discover there is no middle, only those who have money and those who do not.
_____________________________________
Speaking of the "Haves", it seems Facebook is having a wonderful year. They claim to have 200 million users now, doubling its userbase in the last seven months. Speculation is rampant about an IPO coming soon, perhaps by summer. But Mark Zuckerberg has stated "not so fast." Zuckerberg began Facebook in his college dorm and is another billionaire trying to figure out what to do with a company growing too fast. With 800 current employees, the Palo Alto juggernaut's worst case scenario is to be gobbled up by another company like Google for a few billion dollars. If I were Zuckerberg, I'd cash out and buy a house in Carmel.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Leaving the Village
I'm at the Starbucks in the Del Monte Center, Monterey, saying good-bye. I've spent a lot of time here over the last nine months. It's crowded as ever, being a Saturday. The weather is prime, just right, and people are enjoying sunning themselves as they walk their dogs and children along the outdoor retail shops. Seagulls land here and there, reminding me I'm near the ocean.
I'll miss the Monterey Peninsula's beauty and wonderful weather. But it's time for me to move on. The road is calling me back like an old friend. I'll travel to Las Vegas next week.
I travel light, so packing is really no big deal. I usually purchase what I need when staying in a place for more than a week or two. The nine
months I've spent here is the longest period of time I've stayed in any one place. I've got art supplies and a few odds and ends I'll keep, but most of the junk I've collected threw the winter I'm donating to Goodwill.
The photo at left was taken just before I began packing. My small art studio served me just fine, though there were some drawbacks. Occasionally a rock band renting space down the hall would rehearse and drive me nuts. And once a week the cook in the market located downstairs would smoke meats out in the alley outside my window, blowing smoke into my office. But for the most part it was a pleasant nine months of concentrating on my art and my writing.
I'll miss the Monterey Peninsula's beauty and wonderful weather. But it's time for me to move on. The road is calling me back like an old friend. I'll travel to Las Vegas next week.
I travel light, so packing is really no big deal. I usually purchase what I need when staying in a place for more than a week or two. The nine
months I've spent here is the longest period of time I've stayed in any one place. I've got art supplies and a few odds and ends I'll keep, but most of the junk I've collected threw the winter I'm donating to Goodwill.The photo at left was taken just before I began packing. My small art studio served me just fine, though there were some drawbacks. Occasionally a rock band renting space down the hall would rehearse and drive me nuts. And once a week the cook in the market located downstairs would smoke meats out in the alley outside my window, blowing smoke into my office. But for the most part it was a pleasant nine months of concentrating on my art and my writing.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Fear and Loathing on the Way to Las Vegas
I'm about ready to leave the Monterey Peninsula. After 275 days enjoying paradise, it's time to get back to the real world. I'll be heading east toward Las Vegas, and should be there next week if all goes according to plan.
I've enjoyed my time here. But California just has too many problems. The state is all but broke, and they figure to get back in the black by adding more taxes on top of the mountain of taxes they've already heaped on the consumer. This is probably (since I'm not going to waste the time to try to prove it) the most taxed citizenry in the country. A recent "temporary" sales tax increase is just another example of a state government gone wild.
And it's no comfort that many of President Obama's advisers are from California. If you want to yourself in a few years, visit someone living in California. Overtaxed, underpaid, stressed and not able to afford the highest cost of living in the country. Unless, of course, your Paris Hilton.
I really want to spend some time in Las Vegas. After reading a lot of Hunter Thompson lately, I want to experience "Sin City" as an observer, an outsider looking in on the mayhem and weirdness of the city that never sleeps, and write about what I see. Plus I want to play some poker.
So, I'm packing up my small art studio, Sola Sendero, and taking my palette to Nevada.
I've enjoyed my time here. But California just has too many problems. The state is all but broke, and they figure to get back in the black by adding more taxes on top of the mountain of taxes they've already heaped on the consumer. This is probably (since I'm not going to waste the time to try to prove it) the most taxed citizenry in the country. A recent "temporary" sales tax increase is just another example of a state government gone wild.
And it's no comfort that many of President Obama's advisers are from California. If you want to yourself in a few years, visit someone living in California. Overtaxed, underpaid, stressed and not able to afford the highest cost of living in the country. Unless, of course, your Paris Hilton.
I really want to spend some time in Las Vegas. After reading a lot of Hunter Thompson lately, I want to experience "Sin City" as an observer, an outsider looking in on the mayhem and weirdness of the city that never sleeps, and write about what I see. Plus I want to play some poker.
So, I'm packing up my small art studio, Sola Sendero, and taking my palette to Nevada.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
The Wild Goose is crowded this morning. I can barely move my hands to work the keyboard on my laptop, kids running amuck like rats in a maze. One thing I love in life is a morning cup of coffee and a muffin, with some peace and quiet if I can find it. Not today. At times like this I'll stick the iPod in my ear, which helps.
I've arisen from three days of hell fighting one of the worst colds in recent memory. Luckily I had no nausea, just severe sinus pressure, runny nose, fever, and the usual body aches. No sleep and around-the-clock doses of NyQuil have made me a little cranky. I suppose that's one reason all these people at the Wild Goose are driving me nuts.
____________________________________________
Top 10 Goalies Gone Wild.
Thanks to Wil Wheaton (via puckdaddy) for the clip below. It seemed appropriate for describing the the way I've been feeling the last couple of days. I feel like I've been beaten by a hockey stick, thrown against the boards, and hit in the face by a puck or two.
I've arisen from three days of hell fighting one of the worst colds in recent memory. Luckily I had no nausea, just severe sinus pressure, runny nose, fever, and the usual body aches. No sleep and around-the-clock doses of NyQuil have made me a little cranky. I suppose that's one reason all these people at the Wild Goose are driving me nuts.
____________________________________________
Top 10 Goalies Gone Wild.
Thanks to Wil Wheaton (via puckdaddy) for the clip below. It seemed appropriate for describing the the way I've been feeling the last couple of days. I feel like I've been beaten by a hockey stick, thrown against the boards, and hit in the face by a puck or two.
Friday, March 27, 2009
A Visit to the Bay 101 and the WPT
Last week I drove to San Jose to check out the Bay 101 Casino. The final table of the World Poker Tour was to begin Friday afternoon, so I made sure to drop in to check it out. After leaving the Bay 1o1 I drove across town to the Garden City Casino and watched a final table there from a daily tournament.
The Bay 101 is a nice enough place, and certainly one of the larger card rooms you will see in California. The WPT Shooting Stars tournament was wrapping up that evening with the taping of the the final table for the GSN Network. Kathy Liebert was the only name I recognized on the final table list of players, so I decided it was not worth hanging around to see the taping. I'm glad I didn't stay. It turned out to be one of the longest final table matches in WPT history...I would have been there all night. Instead I walked around for a bit and then left. Kathy finished second, by the way, but still took home a nice $550,000.
The Garden City Casino is located in a retail shopping area of north San Jose. The building itself looks like it was built in the 1980s. Inside the decor was right out of 1985, heavily paneled with wood, comfortable soft lighting placed throughout. I was thinking it looked like a steak house that had been converted into a gaming establishment. A tournament was finishing up when I arrived, with three players left at the final table. I watched the match for a few minutes, then it quickly ended when the low stack went all in, the other two players called, and the low stack sucked out a win. Since this put all three players relatively even in chips, they decided to chop the prize. They each received about $3,000. I later read that professional Gabriel Thaler cut his chops there before moving on to Los Angeles, then Las Vegas.
On my way back to Monterey I stopped off at Mortimer's Card Room in Marina. I was disappointed. The room was very small, only four to six tables. Two tables were running spread games and the rest of the room was cluttered and messy. The room is actually a backroom attached to Mortimer's Bar. The neighborhood is old downtown Marina, a little scary, and probably not the safest place to be at midnight on a Saturday.
The Bay 101 is a nice enough place, and certainly one of the larger card rooms you will see in California. The WPT Shooting Stars tournament was wrapping up that evening with the taping of the the final table for the GSN Network. Kathy Liebert was the only name I recognized on the final table list of players, so I decided it was not worth hanging around to see the taping. I'm glad I didn't stay. It turned out to be one of the longest final table matches in WPT history...I would have been there all night. Instead I walked around for a bit and then left. Kathy finished second, by the way, but still took home a nice $550,000.
The Garden City Casino is located in a retail shopping area of north San Jose. The building itself looks like it was built in the 1980s. Inside the decor was right out of 1985, heavily paneled with wood, comfortable soft lighting placed throughout. I was thinking it looked like a steak house that had been converted into a gaming establishment. A tournament was finishing up when I arrived, with three players left at the final table. I watched the match for a few minutes, then it quickly ended when the low stack went all in, the other two players called, and the low stack sucked out a win. Since this put all three players relatively even in chips, they decided to chop the prize. They each received about $3,000. I later read that professional Gabriel Thaler cut his chops there before moving on to Los Angeles, then Las Vegas.
On my way back to Monterey I stopped off at Mortimer's Card Room in Marina. I was disappointed. The room was very small, only four to six tables. Two tables were running spread games and the rest of the room was cluttered and messy. The room is actually a backroom attached to Mortimer's Bar. The neighborhood is old downtown Marina, a little scary, and probably not the safest place to be at midnight on a Saturday.
Fighting a Cold
I've been fighting a cold and flu-like symptoms for the last couple of days. I hate being sick. The weather has been great and I can't see missing it by staying in bed all day. I've not been sick, really sick, in years. This is probably the worst cold I've had since I left Texas back in the summer of 2007. I bought some NyQuil, however, so tonight at least I'll get some rest.
A person really can't afford to get sick. The cost of health care is so ridiculous it hardly seems worth debating. I had a tooth ache on Memorial Day weekend last year while I was in Las Vegas. I visited a local emergency room on Saturday, realizing that the pain was too severe for me to last until Tuesday when a dentist office would reopen after the three-day holiday. I had lost one night's sleep and tried some over-the-counter pain medication, but it was obvious I needed a dentist. No offices were open of course, so I ran into a hospital for some pain pills so I could at least sleep for a couple of days.
After a round of required handshakes from nurses and the attending doctors, I was subjected to some tests...evidently required before any pills are given out. Hear the cash register "ca-ching." The attending doctor visited with me for all of 5 mintues ("ca-ching", "ca-ching") and finally wrote me out a prescription for some pain medication. The final bill? Well...I paid them immediately $375 before walking out the door. Then about two months later I received a bill for the lab tests: $1695. Ca-ching.
I made it to the dentist on Tuesday and had the tooth pulled for $275. Adding it all up, it appears my tooth ache on Memorial Day weekend last year cost me a total of $2,345.
A person really can't afford to get sick. The cost of health care is so ridiculous it hardly seems worth debating. I had a tooth ache on Memorial Day weekend last year while I was in Las Vegas. I visited a local emergency room on Saturday, realizing that the pain was too severe for me to last until Tuesday when a dentist office would reopen after the three-day holiday. I had lost one night's sleep and tried some over-the-counter pain medication, but it was obvious I needed a dentist. No offices were open of course, so I ran into a hospital for some pain pills so I could at least sleep for a couple of days.
After a round of required handshakes from nurses and the attending doctors, I was subjected to some tests...evidently required before any pills are given out. Hear the cash register "ca-ching." The attending doctor visited with me for all of 5 mintues ("ca-ching", "ca-ching") and finally wrote me out a prescription for some pain medication. The final bill? Well...I paid them immediately $375 before walking out the door. Then about two months later I received a bill for the lab tests: $1695. Ca-ching.
I made it to the dentist on Tuesday and had the tooth pulled for $275. Adding it all up, it appears my tooth ache on Memorial Day weekend last year cost me a total of $2,345.
Monday, March 16, 2009
It's In the Cards
One thing I've sorely missed the last few months is a good card game. I've asked around and no one has invited me to a local game, so I guess I'm not speaking to the right people. California and various local laws concerning card rooms and poker are difficult to figure out, but I'm learning.
The closest public card rooms are in Marina, just up the coast from Monterey. Mortimer's Card Room and the Marina Club are across the street from each other, though I can't personally prove it since I've never been there. According to PokerWiki, the rooms were there six months ago. Mortimer's is the largest of the two rooms and seems to cater to a higher stakes game.
If I want a larger room at a casino I'll have to drive to San Jose. The Garden City Casino and Bay 101 Casino have large poker rooms spreading numerous games and have enough tables to keep things moving along. It may be worth the extra drive to play in a larger room.
I suppose I'll have to visit all four locations and report on my experiences. There is no way to know where the best games are. Keeping in mind I'm near the ocean, I'm looking for juicy fish.
The closest public card rooms are in Marina, just up the coast from Monterey. Mortimer's Card Room and the Marina Club are across the street from each other, though I can't personally prove it since I've never been there. According to PokerWiki, the rooms were there six months ago. Mortimer's is the largest of the two rooms and seems to cater to a higher stakes game.
If I want a larger room at a casino I'll have to drive to San Jose. The Garden City Casino and Bay 101 Casino have large poker rooms spreading numerous games and have enough tables to keep things moving along. It may be worth the extra drive to play in a larger room.
I suppose I'll have to visit all four locations and report on my experiences. There is no way to know where the best games are. Keeping in mind I'm near the ocean, I'm looking for juicy fish.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
I'm sitting at the Starbucks in the Del Monte Center watching a steady stream of latte drinkers basking in the glow of all the goodies in the display counter. This particular Starbucks is among the busiest I've ever seen. And I've seen a lot of Starbucks locations around the Southwest (see the sidebar at left). Whenever I have visited this location it's always been busy.
It's easy to get a glimpse of the people of Monterey County at the Del Monte Center, particularly here at the Starbucks. In line I see military personnel (probably from the post-graduate naval academy), young children hanging on young moms out for a day of shopping, elderly women with books in hand (mystery novels seem to be popular with them), Asians, Mexicans, mostly Caucasions, and very few Blacks. Three young men in blue jeans are busy typing away at laptop computers at various tables around the room (me, too, but I'm no longer young). Tourists are in town today. You can spot them right away by the new cameras hanging around their necks. By my calculation, today's most popular customer at Starbucks is a young woman, perhaps between 20 and 40 years old. At the risk of sounding sexists, my guess is most men are at work. Thus the only men I see are elderly, working on Suduko or Crossword puzzles, and a few young ones working online.
Outisde the window I see the many tables and chairs available for patio-dwellers. This area of the Del Monte Center has restaurants and fast food places, though you will not see a McDonald's or Burger King. Chipolte's and Chinese Express are directly across from the Starbucks, and a Subway Sandwich and pizza joint are nearby. Most of the lunching crowd sits outside. Monterey has one of the best year-round climates in the country.
The locals refer to this place as a mall, and I suppose it is. It's really an outdoor mall, since entrances to the retail stores and eateries are all outside. Since many indoor malls around the country are closing due to the economic crisis, maybe outdoor malls will survive. I would think an outdoor mall saves a fortune in utility costs, air conditioning and heating provided by Nature.
It's easy to get a glimpse of the people of Monterey County at the Del Monte Center, particularly here at the Starbucks. In line I see military personnel (probably from the post-graduate naval academy), young children hanging on young moms out for a day of shopping, elderly women with books in hand (mystery novels seem to be popular with them), Asians, Mexicans, mostly Caucasions, and very few Blacks. Three young men in blue jeans are busy typing away at laptop computers at various tables around the room (me, too, but I'm no longer young). Tourists are in town today. You can spot them right away by the new cameras hanging around their necks. By my calculation, today's most popular customer at Starbucks is a young woman, perhaps between 20 and 40 years old. At the risk of sounding sexists, my guess is most men are at work. Thus the only men I see are elderly, working on Suduko or Crossword puzzles, and a few young ones working online.
Outisde the window I see the many tables and chairs available for patio-dwellers. This area of the Del Monte Center has restaurants and fast food places, though you will not see a McDonald's or Burger King. Chipolte's and Chinese Express are directly across from the Starbucks, and a Subway Sandwich and pizza joint are nearby. Most of the lunching crowd sits outside. Monterey has one of the best year-round climates in the country.
The locals refer to this place as a mall, and I suppose it is. It's really an outdoor mall, since entrances to the retail stores and eateries are all outside. Since many indoor malls around the country are closing due to the economic crisis, maybe outdoor malls will survive. I would think an outdoor mall saves a fortune in utility costs, air conditioning and heating provided by Nature.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
While I know California needs the rain, I was nonetheless a happy clam to see the sun break through the clouds this morning as I drove to Monterey. January was entirely dry, so it's a good February has been a very wet month. But enough is enough already.
After visiting the Monterey Public Library, I had lunch at the Del Monte Center. I noticed three military soldier-types, still in fatigues, enjoying a meal outdoors. I often see sailors and other military personnel in town. The major military presence here comes from the Defense Language Institute, Naval PostGraduate School, and Coast Guard.
The beach at Carmel was growing more crowded by the minute as locals discovered the sun was out. An elderly couple walking three dogs, one man walking a grid pattern from the ocean edge to the cliffs with a metal detector, swiping the detector left and right like a drunk Samarai with a broken sword. Two women brought their sack lunches and sat beneath a Cypress to eat sandwiches and watch a few surfers take advantage of the nice waves. I walked along the path along the beach and listened to Gordon Lightfoot on my iPod.
___________________________
I'm nursing a sore thumb. How I strained it I can't tell. Unfortunately the ligament strain is at the base of my right thumb. Since I'm righthanded, it's been a problem. I never realized how a sore thumb can make your day a little bit uneasy. Try taking notice of how often you use your thumb. When I think about the guy who had a big toe transplanted on this hand to take place of a severed thumb, I now understand it. I'll trade a big toe for a thumb if it ever comes to that. My feet stink, anyway. One less appendage might not be so bad.
After visiting the Monterey Public Library, I had lunch at the Del Monte Center. I noticed three military soldier-types, still in fatigues, enjoying a meal outdoors. I often see sailors and other military personnel in town. The major military presence here comes from the Defense Language Institute, Naval PostGraduate School, and Coast Guard.
The beach at Carmel was growing more crowded by the minute as locals discovered the sun was out. An elderly couple walking three dogs, one man walking a grid pattern from the ocean edge to the cliffs with a metal detector, swiping the detector left and right like a drunk Samarai with a broken sword. Two women brought their sack lunches and sat beneath a Cypress to eat sandwiches and watch a few surfers take advantage of the nice waves. I walked along the path along the beach and listened to Gordon Lightfoot on my iPod.
___________________________
I'm nursing a sore thumb. How I strained it I can't tell. Unfortunately the ligament strain is at the base of my right thumb. Since I'm righthanded, it's been a problem. I never realized how a sore thumb can make your day a little bit uneasy. Try taking notice of how often you use your thumb. When I think about the guy who had a big toe transplanted on this hand to take place of a severed thumb, I now understand it. I'll trade a big toe for a thumb if it ever comes to that. My feet stink, anyway. One less appendage might not be so bad.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
I drove to Carmel Sunday afternoon and attended the “Author to Author” lecture series hosted by the Carmel Public Library Foundation. The CPLF schedules these events throughout the year. This presentation involved three published authors and the topic was “Fiction: Writing the Novel and Getting It Published.”
The three authors presenting the program were Alex A .Vardamis, Cornelia Read, and Robert Irvine. They were seated near a huge fireplace in the Barnet Segal Reading Room, located just to the right of the entrance to the Harrison Memorial Library. Tom Parks moderated the discussion and asked questions. Somehow, about 75 people squeezed into the large room, with some of them sitting in chairs beyond the rail along an upper floor balcony. I was surprised to see that many come out on such a rainy day.
I didn't learn much. Unfortunately, Mr. Parks failed to take full advantage of the hour. It takes a special talent to interview a panel such as this. It's not as simple as just writing down a few questions. I realize Mr. Parks had a remarkable career as a writer and dialogue coach in Hollywood. Nonetheless, the panel's presentation was a little flat. Perhaps having one author, not three, would have been better. That way, we might have been able to dig deeper into the life of a professional published writer and gained some insight into how they deal with publishers, agents, and editors in a changing industry.
Mr. Parks touched on the Kindle 2 controversy from Amazon, but it was clear he didn't fully understand the issues involved. Mr. Vardamis probably summed up the whole discussion by saying that “the Kindle is probably the wave of the future...it's how things will be done since printing costs are so high.”
The one thing that really stuck out in my mind after hearing the discussion? Writing is an individual and lonely pursuit. Every writer is unique, and each has their own opinions on the process and practice of being a writer. Writing is as unique to the individual as fingerprints. When a writer puts words to paper he is fingerprinting an idea, saying a thing that no one else will say in exactly the same way.
Finding one's voice as a writer, then, should be easy. All we must do is write what we will. How we choose to write it is our business, and others be damned.
The three authors presenting the program were Alex A .Vardamis, Cornelia Read, and Robert Irvine. They were seated near a huge fireplace in the Barnet Segal Reading Room, located just to the right of the entrance to the Harrison Memorial Library. Tom Parks moderated the discussion and asked questions. Somehow, about 75 people squeezed into the large room, with some of them sitting in chairs beyond the rail along an upper floor balcony. I was surprised to see that many come out on such a rainy day.
I didn't learn much. Unfortunately, Mr. Parks failed to take full advantage of the hour. It takes a special talent to interview a panel such as this. It's not as simple as just writing down a few questions. I realize Mr. Parks had a remarkable career as a writer and dialogue coach in Hollywood. Nonetheless, the panel's presentation was a little flat. Perhaps having one author, not three, would have been better. That way, we might have been able to dig deeper into the life of a professional published writer and gained some insight into how they deal with publishers, agents, and editors in a changing industry.
Mr. Parks touched on the Kindle 2 controversy from Amazon, but it was clear he didn't fully understand the issues involved. Mr. Vardamis probably summed up the whole discussion by saying that “the Kindle is probably the wave of the future...it's how things will be done since printing costs are so high.”
The one thing that really stuck out in my mind after hearing the discussion? Writing is an individual and lonely pursuit. Every writer is unique, and each has their own opinions on the process and practice of being a writer. Writing is as unique to the individual as fingerprints. When a writer puts words to paper he is fingerprinting an idea, saying a thing that no one else will say in exactly the same way.
Finding one's voice as a writer, then, should be easy. All we must do is write what we will. How we choose to write it is our business, and others be damned.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Carmel Valley, CA
Spring is coming. I love this time of year. I feel like a black bear that's emerging from a few months of hibernation. I'm ready for some warm weather, sunny days, and lots of outdoor action.
I suppose Springtime is God's way of saying, "Okay, enough's enough. Time to bring you back to life." Although Winter is leaving, I'm not sure it's actually ever arrived here. One of the perks of living on the Monterey Peninsula is the year-round climate. Winters are more about rain than anything else here. And since California is suffering the worst drought in its history, the rain is welcome.
__________________________
This afternoon I'm attending a novel-writing seminar hosted by the Carmel Public Library. Local authors will be speaking about writing novels and the publishing industry. While the economy is hurting most sectors, including the book market, books and the publishing industry or still strong.
I'm a regular reader of the blog "The Rejector", written by an assistant in a literary agency. He (or she, probably she) recently wrote:
"Despite the corporate doom-and-gloom, publishing is actually a fairly stable industry in that people always want/need books...not all publishing companies are doing badly. Yes, I don't know an editor who isn't under a little extra stress (or a lot of extra stress because half her department was cut and merged with another imprint), but most companies are in the black or near the black, and the ones doing well are being tight-lipped about it, hoping no one will figure out their secret. (Hint! It's probably cheating the authors with low advances and bottom-level royalties!)"
I really don't think the economy is as bad as the press makes it out to be. People are still spending money. Yes, there are layoffs and the job-market is flooded with people looking for work. But why? Is it the recent real estate crisis? The world-wide recession? The depressed markets? When it's all said and done, it comes down to consumer confidence. If we keep hearing how bad things are, then a self-fulfilling prophecy takes hold and confidence drops.
Yes, the economic climate is bad. But I have confidence that it will rebound and we'll move ahead. I tend to see us going through a market correction. The real estate market was living on borrowed time, and it had to come to end.
I was a real estate broker in the late 1990s and we were saying at that time that banks were nuts for lending money to people who couldn't afford to pay it back. I attended a meeting in 2000 that warned us about this disaster. We were told it was coming, a banking collapse brought on my bad loans, probably by 2010. Sure enough, here we are. But as a real estate broker making lots of money at the time I joined my colleagues and ignored the gloomy forecasts. "We'll worry about the mess when it comes" was the prevailing attitude.
So I'm not surprised by the recent collapse. That's why my confidence is higher than ever that we'll be okay.
Spring is coming. I love this time of year. I feel like a black bear that's emerging from a few months of hibernation. I'm ready for some warm weather, sunny days, and lots of outdoor action.
I suppose Springtime is God's way of saying, "Okay, enough's enough. Time to bring you back to life." Although Winter is leaving, I'm not sure it's actually ever arrived here. One of the perks of living on the Monterey Peninsula is the year-round climate. Winters are more about rain than anything else here. And since California is suffering the worst drought in its history, the rain is welcome.
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This afternoon I'm attending a novel-writing seminar hosted by the Carmel Public Library. Local authors will be speaking about writing novels and the publishing industry. While the economy is hurting most sectors, including the book market, books and the publishing industry or still strong.
I'm a regular reader of the blog "The Rejector", written by an assistant in a literary agency. He (or she, probably she) recently wrote:
"Despite the corporate doom-and-gloom, publishing is actually a fairly stable industry in that people always want/need books...not all publishing companies are doing badly. Yes, I don't know an editor who isn't under a little extra stress (or a lot of extra stress because half her department was cut and merged with another imprint), but most companies are in the black or near the black, and the ones doing well are being tight-lipped about it, hoping no one will figure out their secret. (Hint! It's probably cheating the authors with low advances and bottom-level royalties!)"
I really don't think the economy is as bad as the press makes it out to be. People are still spending money. Yes, there are layoffs and the job-market is flooded with people looking for work. But why? Is it the recent real estate crisis? The world-wide recession? The depressed markets? When it's all said and done, it comes down to consumer confidence. If we keep hearing how bad things are, then a self-fulfilling prophecy takes hold and confidence drops.
Yes, the economic climate is bad. But I have confidence that it will rebound and we'll move ahead. I tend to see us going through a market correction. The real estate market was living on borrowed time, and it had to come to end.
I was a real estate broker in the late 1990s and we were saying at that time that banks were nuts for lending money to people who couldn't afford to pay it back. I attended a meeting in 2000 that warned us about this disaster. We were told it was coming, a banking collapse brought on my bad loans, probably by 2010. Sure enough, here we are. But as a real estate broker making lots of money at the time I joined my colleagues and ignored the gloomy forecasts. "We'll worry about the mess when it comes" was the prevailing attitude.
So I'm not surprised by the recent collapse. That's why my confidence is higher than ever that we'll be okay.
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