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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.