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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.

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.
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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.
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Happy July 4th to all our troops, my nephews Cody and Caleb included. Take care guys.

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 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.

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.

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.

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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.

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!

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.

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.

The Past Week in Review

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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 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.

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?
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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.

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?

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.
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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.

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.

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.

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.

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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.)

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.

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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.