Days 15-16 (part 1) - La La land, breaking the (piggy) bank, and taking the scenic route.

Current location: Glenwood Springs, Colorado
Time / distance traveled since last post: About 17 hours, about 1050 miles
Total time / distance traveled: About 73 hours, about 4825 miles

I write to you tonight from my astonishingly decked-out motel room for $55 in Glenwood Springs, Colorado, where I have chosen to stop for the night (rather than continue the extra three hours to Denver) in order to provide you fine readers with an update as well as to allow myself to enjoy the sights of western Colorado tomorrow during daylight. Though it had been my intention to begin writing this entry a couple hours ago upon check-in, some bizarre sequence of YouTube link-hopping led to my watching the entire Inside the Actors Studio episode on Sir Anthony Hopkins. Funny how these things happen...


Much has occurred since last I wrote, so let me waste no time in getting into it. I awoke in Kirk's San Diego condo Wednesday morning at about 7:30am, and rushed to get my things packed so that I could get on the road ASAP since I had a lot on my plate for the day. After saying goodbye to Kirk and the kids, Logan and Quinn (which was particularly difficult with Quinn's coy inquiry "...but you're coming back here after you're done visiting the rest of the family... right?"), I loaded-up the car and begin driving north towards Los Angeles. The route suggested by Kirk was noteworthy in and of itself, with I-5 taking me right along side the rocky beaches of Orange county (most of which are the subject matter of various MTV and VH1 "reality" shows), and then I-405 ("The 405," as often referenced in music and pop culture) through Long Beach to Marina del Rey, which held my first stop.


After 2 hours on the road, it was time for breakfast, and I knew just the place for it: Joni's Roasting Cafe (visit her website here: http://www.joniscoffee.com/index.html ). To provide some back story for how I knew about Joni's, I had been in LA this past September with my band in order to play the legendary Whisky A Go-Go on the Sunset Strip in West Hollywood (chances are that if you are reading this blog that you know me well enough to have received the whole debriefing on our wild times partying on the beach with the locals and in the bar with rock stars, and if you have not then just ask me for the run-down when next you speak with me), and during this trip, Keith, Nick and I stayed at the Marina International Hotel in Marina del Rey. Trying to make the trip as cheap as possible, we chose this hotel due to its walking proximity to the beaches and other fun free locations, thus avoiding the necessity of renting a car. One block closer to the beach from the hotel, we found Joni's.

An unsuspectingly swanky coffee shoppe and breakfast nook, we went there three of our four mornings in LA in order to drink good strong coffee and sample the finest in California breakfast cuisine, which is the hybridization of a traditional English breakfast with savory Mexican fare. Having tried the huevos rancheros and breakfast burrito, we all agreed that the superior dish was the breakfast quesadilla:

 (hand included for size reference)


A fresh jumbo tortilla wrapped-around scrambled eggs, sausage, peppers, onions, mushrooms and jack cheese, served up with spicy red skin potato home fries, fresh guacamole and a smokey chipotle aoli, this meal was worth the trip... again. This quesadilla exercises a perfect balance of kicked-up spice in items such as the sausage, potatoes and aoli, and creamy cooling elements such as the melted cheese and guacamole (which so far as I am concerned should be a part of every meal), which is only emphasized with the bold cup of joe that reminds you that you're still having your square breakfast. I should point out that upon meeting Joni herself last time we were in town (a middle-aged walking stereotype of an LA women, complete with plasticine lips, face lift, and tendencies to speak to everyone as though she knew them each amorously), she was very happy that we loved the dish, though admitted that she herself had not yet made-up her mind about it. Flash-forward, 7 months and the menu now says "Joni's Favorite"? Hmmm...


After enjoying Joni's (though the namesake harlot herself was absent this time around), I decided to re-enact our daily routine during our September band trip. Finding and excellent parking spot right by the water (it was still overcast, cool, and about 11am on a Wednesday so I could speculate that the beach was not going to be packed just yet), I packed my backpack with my phone/wallet/keys and exchanged my flip flops for skate shoes. Before heading north along the coastline to Venice Beach, our old hangout, I stopped by the corner store at which I had purchased my toolish reflective aviators (which have since been bent out of shape) upon my last visit. I was delighted to find not only the same aviators, but also the same friendly clerk who had rang me up the first time around. With my eyes now protected from the harmful UV rays and my line of sight now furtively obscured from public discrimination (an absolute must for taking in the... ahem... "sights" at the beach), I skated the half-mile to the skate park, passing muscle beach and the paddle tennis courts along the way (see my Facebook photo album from last September's trip for pictures of everything Venice. Finally arriving at the park, I found everything much as I had left it, though this time everything seemed smaller and less intimidating. I guess all that practice in the southwest paid off! I spent about half an hour carving the bowls and the notorious cement snake run, all of which were buttery smooth as compared to the rough concrete of San Diego, and managed to have some much more successful runs than my first pass through LA. Satisfied, I ventured back to the car at about noon, which was JUST when all of the kush doctors were opening-up shop.

For those of you who don't know, medicinal marijuana is legal in California, and Venice Beach is the epicenter of diagnosis, prescription and supply for all of LA. Well aware that the vast majority of medical marijuana smokers are potheads who came up with some sort of medical complaint which a doctor verified in order to allow them to get their proverbial fix, there are people standing on the boards of Venice Beach with signs and marquees literally seducing people into the "offices" in order to see the kush doctors and "get legal." On our last trip, our drummer Keith, who is known to partake on cannabinoids on occasion, had conversed with one of these hype men, who spoke in heavy euphemism with carefully placed winks and nods in order to guide him through the process and bolster his chances of getting prescribed the forbidden herb. Not a marijuana smoker myself, though nevertheless in favor of its legalization (for tax purposes and a tiny bit of libertarianism thrown in there), I found this whole industry fascinating. Upon my second pass on this day, I realized that the date was, in fact, April 20th (4/20). All I am going to say is that the plume of smoke from this stoner mecca could be detected for blocks in any direction. It's time to get out of LA.

Since I had spent a long weekend there before and did most of all I had cared to do in the city, I had no problem leaving having only spent two hours there. On my way out of town I drove by the only two landmarks of significance to me which I had not visited on the previous trip, being the Hollywood sign (visible from the highway on my way back east... check!) and Santa Monica pier (about a mile north of Venice Beach):

Driving out of LA (which takes a good 45 minutes to traverse from west to east) I found that the city ended much as San Diego had begun, in mountains and desert. The depressing thing about these mountains, however, is that gray smog (definitely not clouds) could be seen rolling down the east sides of the mountains and obscuring vision for miles, much as it had in the Grand Canyon. My final thought about LA, and why I distinctively prefer New York as the end-all-be-all metropolitan area of the United States, is that in LA everyone still feels that they absolutely need to own a car in lieu of using public transportation. I know that there is no quick fix for this, but a better Los Angeles public transportation system is ESSENTIAL in order to save the sights of the southwest.

So I'm driving east through the desert from Los Angeles, my next family members being located in Denver, Colorado. I don't know how good you are at US geography, but there is a certain little city along the way that may just warrant an overnight stop:

Vegas baby!

Never having been, and not quite sure how long it will be until I once again have some fragment of disposable income, it would have been criminal not to indulge in at least one night in the City of Sin. I was fortunate in that Kirk was able to provide me with some useful guidance on places to stay, places to eat, what to do and what not to do (for being a very couth gentleman he certainly seems to have gone to Vegas quite a few times), and I booked a room at the Monte Carlo on the south end of the strip.

Driving through the desert of California, you are enveloped by nothingness until all of a sudden these tall, flamboyant structures appear in the distance and seductive billboards beckon you forward to what you can only imagine is none other than Las Vegas itself. Literally as soon as you cross the California-Nevada state line the casinos begin, BUT WAIT! This isn't Vegas yet! Looking at my map I knew that I would have to travel another 30 miles inland before I was actually on the strip, but I did see plenty of out-of-state cars in the parking lots of this decoy casinos, as I am going to call them. If their goal was to catch the tourists before they actually get into THE Las Vegas with their facade (akin to Best Buy's video bargain bin including DVDs of films with titles like Snakes on a Train and The Illusion), then they seemed successful in their ploy.


Finally arriving in THE Vegas (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drEMwNjyYx8) I found my hotel quickly and pulled into the valet parking circle (one of the sealing-deals with the Monte Carlo was the free valet parking). After handing-over my keys and a $2 tip (high roller such as I am) I took my bag and walked into the lobby. Astonished by how broad and almost uninviting the lobby appeared (over-sized in order to accommodate the heavy check-in/check-out times no doubt), I walked up to the first available clerk and within 30 seconds had signed my life away and checked-in. Ascending the elevator to room 19-315 (yes, the place is so big that there are over 100 rooms on each of its 36 floors) I saw video advertisements right there in the elevator car for the two shows playing at the Monte Carlo, which were the Jabbawockees and Frank Caliendo. Yeahhhhhh not interested. Finally arriving on the 19th floor, I punched my key card and entered into my luxurious room: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGzdulWhoNk

Not bad! Right?

Okay, so I am now arrived in a brand new city... where is my first stop?

No, unfortunately there's no skate parks on the strip, otherwise you would be dead right. Instead I opted for the fitness center.  Hey, having a good night in Vegas is contingent on being confident, right? I'd better get my swell-on if nothing else so that I feel better about myself as I hemorrhage money to the corporate machine. Trying to find the fitness center was tough, as not only are casinos set-up like mazes (in hopes that when you get lost you just say "fuck it!" and go back to gambling) but also I had to traverse a labyrinth of spa-treatment rooms in order to get to the weight room. Once I got there, though, I was very pleasantly surprised to find ample, deluxe equipment and no one but the towel girl in there. Nice!

After a productive workout (I am somewhat suspicious that all of the plates in this place were under-weighted in order to make it seem as though you were having a good time at the grand old Monte Carlo) I went downstairs to dive into the huge pool, literally one minute before it closed. Oh well, at least I rinsed-off well enough to not stink-up the elevator. Getting back to my room I showered and decided to put on the most high-roller narcissistic clothes I own (which are not very swanky at all, but at least I had the reflective aviators to add that extra "I wear my sunglasses at night" effect. My self-affirmation process was as follows:

Acting like a boss:

Making sure The Situation is in check:

Good to go!

I then took-off walking up and down the strip, first working my way south to cover the few casinos left before the edge of town. One noteworthy place was the New York, New York which has the most clever exterior of any of the casinos I saw that day (the entire outside was constructed to appear as though the Manhattan skyline with relative success,  complete with a fountain in front and impressive replica of the Statue of Liberty and a roller coaster weaving around the tips of the buildings), and had a pretty cool interior Wall Street theme:

Also noteworthy on the southern end of the strip was The Luxor, which is the huge glass pyramid outside with additional Egyptian interior theme. I would recommend this hotel to anyone who gets claustrophobic in casinos (which is easy to happen) as the inside is wide open leading all the way up to the tip of the pyramid.

Now growing quite hungry, I began my search for the very best Las Vegas buffet that I could find (if you didn't know, Vegas is known for its luxurious gourmet buffets). Using Kirk's input as well as various review sites on my iPhone, I found that the definitive top 2 buffets are all located off the strip in the decoy Las Vegas I had passed 30 miles ago. Sneaky... The agreed-upon number three, however, was Les Village Buffet at The Paris:

The Paris was actually very nice, with the feet of the Eiffel Tower (which is by the way, taller than the ACTUAL Eiffel Tower in Paris) extending to the inside floor of the casino (which provided the distinct advantage of having reference points by which to maintain your bearings as to the locations of the exits). Nevertheless it took me about 15 minutes to locate the buffet, which then resulted in waiting in a 15 minute line just to get it. $27 later I was seated, my drink order taken, and off to the buffet line! Before I talk-up the buffet, check out this video of the available spread: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fF6mst0NHjE

The buffet had 6 or 7 distinct stations, each with different European themes (ranging from Florance to Paris to Brittany) in addition to the obligatory salad bar and desert bar (each substantially larger than your average buffet in its entirety). This turned out to be the perfect buffet for me, as I had been feasting on Mexican and Asian food out the wazoo in California and found this to be a welcome diversion. Doing a once-over walk-through before brimming my first plate with the various pastas, chicken dishes, meats and side dishes, I sat down to a plethora of flavors and techniques that excited many different pleasure-zones of my brain simultaneously. As soon as I downed my first I filled-up my second, this time going heavier on the veggies and fish dishes (I'm trying to maintain my girlish figure, after all). I grabbed one king crab leg purely out of obligation, though I feel that going to a Vegas buffet in order to get large quantities of typically expensive foods that are otherwise available everywhere is the wrong way to go about it. My interests were in the attention to detail and skill involved in the different preparations. This came to fruition with desert, in which I loaded-up my plate with a fresh crepe stuffed with cherry flambe, accompanied with pear halves poached in red wine (which is, by the way, the BEST THING EVER, with the tannins of the wine leaching their way into the flesh of the fruit and bringing-out a flavor I had never before imagined possible), and - get this - both flan AND creme brulee! Needless to say, I was feeling fat and sassy when I finished.

I decided to walk-off the meal by navigating my way through the strip, this time headed north through the likes of the Bellagio, Treasure Island and making a U-turn at the Wynn. 5 or 6 casinos distance doesn't sound like much, but considering that you can't just cross the street (you need to navigate the casinos to the second floors in order to find elevated walkways) and that each casino is three city blocks in breadth, I had walked a couple miles easily. Upon arrival back at the Monte Carlo, my feet and legs were burning more than after the hike at the Grand Canyon (I did get this photo coming back in, though):

Having sampled the environments of the different casinos, I decided that my obligatory gambling should take place back at my home base, because the limits at the tables were cheap and I liked that the Monte Carlo didn't have any "theme" aside from their slogan, "Unpretentious Luxury." That's exactly what I think of when I think Vegas, and since rooms at the Monte Carlo were $90 as compared to $199 at the Bellagio or Wynn, the decision was made.

Getting cash out of the ATM in a casino is nerve racking, because not only does the machine charge a $4.95 fee, but also its minimum dispensary amount is $200, in hundred dollar bills only. After taking-out the minimum amount, I exchanged $100 for chips at a roulette table, at which I bet my first $10 on the long shot 16 Red (the number Adam had assigned me to play), losing (which was fine) to the number 19 Red (which was way too close to my number to be fine). Frustrated, I picked up my chips and moved-shop.

Surveying the different tables a bit, I found a $10 minimum black jack table with all young, vibrant folks like myself and an extra seat, which I quickly took. Betting the minimum $10 I played my first hand, receiving a jack-nine on the deal. Obviously staying, the dealer busted, winning me back the $10 I had lost at roulette. The night had officially begun!

I want to point out that prior to this my experiences with gambling had steered me far away from the practice, as I had probably lost a total of $50 across my lifetime to slot machines and video blackjack, all of which resulted in the quick loss of money with minimal fun. The only reason I had decided to gamble this night was because -c'mon!- I was in Vegas! Over the next few deals, which turned into the next few hours, I had an incredible amount of fun. Seriously, it scared me how fun playing black jack in a casino can be. A waitress keeps bringing you another free drink every half hour, you make friends with your fellow players, since you're all against the dealer, and you become very emotionally invested in how your decision making contributes to the rise and fall of your chip count. I really wish that this weren't so fun, because it can certainly be an expensive hobby, and your mind starts playing tricks on yo, trying to convince you to up the stakes and go-on, which statistically will only lead you to bankruptcy in the long run. Still, it's a really, really fun time.

My fellow players were an eclectic bunch, ranging from a middle-aged Canuck stereotype and young-twenties excitable young man from Guadalajara on my right to a mail-ordered Korean bride on my left. Seriously, there is no way this woman was not a mail-ordered bride:

1. Her husband is a middle-aged white man who provides here with ample gambling money, and by his high-society demeanor does not appear to have been in active combat over-seas.
2. Her accent is very F.O.B. Korean (she literally said "Mama need new shoe!").
3. She and her husband LIVE IN LAS VEGAS.

Nevertheless, she was a total sweetheart and helped me get into the swing of things (I knew how to play black jack but she helped me quite a bit with the casino nuances), plus (though I don't believe in luck) seemed a good luck charm, as on any coin-toss call her hunches were always right, both for herself and the other players.

By the time my fourth free Makers Mark and diet arrived I was down to my very last $10, laying it all on the line for one final hand. It was at this point that I realized how easily one could fall into gambling addiction, as while I originally told myself "I've got no problem losing $100 if I had fun, I'll just act as though the drinks were $25 a piece!" I starting thinking "Well, I DO have more money in my wallet..." I was totally cognizant of the statistical fallacies in my thinking, but still found the temptation to go on was so incredibly strong. Fortunately for me, I got a black jack with those last $10. Fighting my way back, winning 75% of the next dozen or so deals (with some strategic double-downs and splits for extra cash) I found myself up $20 (thus a total chip count of $120)! I had decided earlier on in the game when I was up by $5 that if I ever made it to $150 I would quit. I decided to bet a huge $15 on the next hand, in which I received a 7-2 with the dealer showing 5. Excited at the prospect of the dealer bust, I double-downed, getting a 10 (making my hand 19). The dealer then revealed a 6-5 hand (oooh bad luck for us!) but only received a 3 on the first hit. My palms now sweaty, the second hit revealed a king. I had done it! I was now up $50 (and 5 free drinks in), and promptly cashed-out. Cashing-out was bittersweet, as it was wonderful to receive a fresh $50 bill in addition to the $100 I had originally laid-down, but this meant that I wouldn't be playing any more. The rest of the night the thoughts of "Why stop at $50 when you could make $100?" and "You could pay for this whole trip on winnings alone!" kept racing through my head, but somehow I was able to resist temptation, resigning myself to the nightclubs instead.

As I quickly found-out upon entering Coyote Ugly in New York, New York (again recommended by Kirk) at about 1:00am, I quickly realized that even though I was in Vegas, the stupidity and futility of nightclubs did not magically change. All I was able to assess was that since people come to Vegas looking to make bad decisions, the appeal of the clubs was to feed-off of the insouciance of the rest of the crowd in order to attain a beautifully regrettable evening. You know what, I'll come back to Vegas with my buddies some day to do that. Tonight I'm gonna get some sleep so I can wake up early enough for a breakfast buffet before checkout.

Still, I felt it was worth while to provide an "after" shot to complement the "before" shots earlier in the evening (note the uncomfortably protruding belly due to buffet topped with liquid):

The following morning I awoke at 9:00am (no hangover), and quickly showered and packed in order to get to the buffet and back on time for 11:00am checkout (I didn't want to know what a Vegas hotel would charge as a late checkout fee). The number four best buffet (thus number two on the strip) was said to be the Belaggio, so I walked two casinos over (which took 20-25 minutes) and waited in another 15 minute line. This buffet was also totally worth it (at just $17), complete with your typical breakfast fare (omelet bar, sausage, bacon, eggs, potatoes, pancakes, waffles, fruits, hot and cold cereals, etc.) in addition to delicious fancier items like eggs Florentine, cheese blintzes and seared bluenose. The bluenose, which I have now decided is my new favorite fish, was seared with a thin terryaki sauce and sesame seeds, and tasted as though an exact hybrid of swordfish and chicken breast (interesting to think of the mechanics of how that progeny would have been created...). After brunch I SPRINTED back to my room, grabbed my bags and checked-out by 10:58am. Pfew! Another $2 tip brought my car back around, and I took-off, headed north up the strip towards downtown Las Vegas.

In case you didn't know, the Las Vegas strip isn't even in the city of Las Vegas. Downtown Las Vegas has fewer casinos and lots of residential and commerce, and even has a swanky welcome sign of its own!

As of this point in writing I am running well-behind in my plans for the day here in Denver, where I am now finishing this post in a bookstore that just so happens to have free WIFI. I will give updates about the trip from Las Vegas to Denver (which was the most beautiful stretch of highways I have ever driven) and what I've done since arriving here in my next post. I hope this one gives at least gave you some nice reading material with which to start your weekend!

Cheers! Stay posted!