Well, the flight home was not oversold. That gamble, like so many others of the past 48 hours, didn't pay off.
But some of them did:
It was just after Midnight. After a dissapointing Mirage tournament in which I might have played my worst poker of the trip and after I walked over to TI and lost more in a $1-$3 NL game - I was done.
Done gambling, done for the trip. Time to take the long walk from TI to the Monte Carlo, sleep and head for the airport immediadetly after awaking.
But I knew there was a 1 am Caesars tournament. I knew there would be many great looking women hanging around the poker room's entrance ( the room shares a wall with Pure nightclub ). And I knew there would be Pussycat Doll blackjack dealers.
What I didn't expect to see was a $10 blackjack table with a pussycat doll dealer!
I decided that, now at about 12:40, I would sit down with $100 and try to get to $170 in twenty minutes (in time for that 1 am $70 tournament).
This is a good story. I did it. I was very closely tracking my betting, and promptly left when I hit my goal on the mark.
It felt remarkable, hustling over from the blackjack table to the poker room.
In my mind, I played that 1 am tourney for free. And I knew it would, for sure, be my last gaming action of the trip.
I played for over two hours. Busting out in 9th place out of 19 (only top 3 paid). It was 3:45 am by the time I finally go back to the Monte Carlo. Ending the vacation on a, for me, somewhat happy note.
I finished 5th out of 18 in the 11 am Tourney at TI. Top 3 paid. Both me and the 4th place finisher busted out on the same hand, bringing a celebration to those souls making the money.
I've gotten closer and closer every tournament. It's starting ti sting. Looks line the 7 pm Mirage tourney is my last chance for romance.
They put me in room 30-124. I'm currently 30 years old and my birthday is 1/24.
So the Wynn tourney. Ah, it's why I like tourneys.... You can't make one mental mistake. I was sitting very pretty with 7 people left ( we started with 20, top 3 paid) and I got caught being too cutesy. Dropped from about 75K to under 35K by doubling up this Brazillian Cougar that barely spoke Spanish.
A brave comeback soon commenced, but I lost to a 6-outer on the River. All in all, I played from 8 pm to 1 am in that thing. The Wynn won't joke around in these things: 20K in starting chips / 30 minute levels / a break every two hours.
The two tourneys I bought into today took just shy of 9 hours total. I'm a little mentally fatigued righ now without much to show for it.
By the way, my room looks out into the belly of the City Center beast. The Aria looks more like an upscale condo building than a hotel.
I'm resting just outside the Wynn Sports Book. The 8 PM daily tournament starts in under 40 minutes, which has allowed me ample time to catch my breath over a Roast Beef sandwich at the Wynn deli.
Long story short, I left the Caesars Poker Room with more than I entered and have decided to make the strech for the higher buy-in at the Wynn.
Besides, I was already halfway there from the Monte Carlo. I knew I wouldn't get to play in the Wynn Poker Room much, so I'm taking the opportunity.
My room, last I checked, wasn't ready. After the plane landed, I took a cab to the Monte Carlo, left my bag at the Bell Desk, and hit their Poker Room.
Not all that impressed with that Room, and left after an hour to the In-N-Out for lunch. I tried to check in when I got back (circa 1:30), but they told me a room wasn't ready. (I guess this is to be expected when you don't make reservations).
So I bolted for Caesars, a route which took me past City Center. Tomorow I will have to take pictures with my camera (not just my phone) to later illustrate the scope of that project.
Again, Caesars went well, and I'm currently watching some MNF and getting mentally prepared for the most expensive tournament (including Charities) of my life.
We'll see where the night takes me after the tourney.
The watch stopped working over two years ago. Late last night I decided that it's time to bring it back.
My first poker tournament starts in a little over an hour. I will be attempting my "win the buy-in" mission as soon as an open seat presents itself at a $1-$2 NL table.
Q: How do you know when a vacation starts, and ends? A: Besides the normal punch out - punch in routine...
I'm feeling higher than a weather balloon right now. It's 2:00 am. I just set my alarm for 5:00 am. My Dad's gonna pick me up at 6 am to take me to the airport. Vegas Vegas Vegas Vegas Vegas Vegas Vegas
So right now, this moment, I feel like I'm on vacation. Not at all upset that I'm starring down the barrel of yet another Sunday Night Insomnia fest!
To be technically accurate, vacations are bookmarked by actual work. From the time you leave the office until the time 0bligated to return - that's a vacation.
But for me, and Vegas Vacations especially, the bookends are my trips to the bank. I'm thinking positive here.
Yesterday I made my annual withdraw from my bank. Cash bitch. I'm not using Traveler's Checks this time. The point is - I hope my vacation ends with a deposit to the same bank.
I've got my daily budget. Multiplied it by two. Took out an extra segment for incidentals. Non credit cardable taxis, food, tips... the like.
The iPod is charged up and in my carry on... My phone is getting there... Recharging accessories packed as well...
Bring.
It.
On.
And now I'm listening to Kylie when I should be charging myself.
Q: Do you still try to get autographs? A: Personally, I think I'm done.
I will get to this prized relic in a moment... The autographed liner notes for a CD that was released in 1997. Since I dug it up today, literally, it's meaning has grown.
Per my usual Sunday Night Sleep Difficulties, I spent a lot of time on The YouTube clicking the most random of music. I love those kinds of musical sessions for all those songs itching your mind but somehow have never won their way into your possession. Songs from TV commercials, songs from dance mixes of years past... Random Songs of The Moment.
Of these three video postings, people came out of the Facebook woodwork to "like" the Ben Folds Five clip. It was a nice discovery, because I was previously unaware these Facebook friends also liked Ben Folds Five. It's a nice feeling to get an added, "yeah, that's another good reason why we're friends" moment for yours truly.
--cue the fade to a flashback--
The back half of 1997 was an extremely odd time in my life. If it wasn't epically boring it might have made for a nice Coming-Of-Age flick. For those that don't know, I spent a year in a quagmire purgatory between my high school graduation and departure for college. In that time I worked a lot in a very isolated job in which my only company was my CD collection. Thankfully one of my closest friends from high school choose a school not far at all from us and we ended up going to more concerts that year than the four years prior combined. (Of course, that's an easy task to accomplish when we're both 18 and curfew-free*)
If pressed at gunpoint, I'd probably say "The Colour and The Shape" by The Foo Fighters was my personal pick for Album of the Year. However, Ben Folds Five easily would've won Band of the Year.
(Just processing this story out in my mind right now, the vivid memories coming back, is making me smile)
One night, late at night, I was listening to Q101 (one of the things I will mention that I did frequently in 1997 and have completely stopped currently). After playing "Battle of Who Could Care Less" the 'DJ' said, "That was Ben Folds Five - if you get a chance to see them live - do it." A few months later, on the same radio station, an upcoming concert of theirs was aannounced. I called my friend a couple days later and suggested that we should check it out. Neither of us had any of their music, but we agreed nonetheless. I went out to the local Best Buy and bought their most recent album (Whatever And Ever Amen). My friend, who was working at his college radio station, liberated it from their library.
They blew me away that night at the Riv. 3 men produced a sound that was larger than I could comprehend at the time. After the show my friend and I were somewhat dumbstruck in its wake. We decided to wait around the corner, by the tour bus, to see them after they walked out. I ran back to the car and got the CD.
Today I plug my 30GB iPod into my dashboard and can play music for ten days straight before a song repeats. In 1997, I had a cassette tape deck and a cord to my Kenwood (yeah, screw that Discman!) CD player. Not to mention about 4-6 jewel cases (I had yet progressed to the Case Logic Car Accessory Line).
All three: Ben Folds, Darren Jesse and Robert Sledge were the nicest of gentleman and very considerate of the 8-11 fans waiting for them outside. One girl was wearing a self made T-Shirt that said "KATE" on it (a song from the Whatever And Ever... album). "Oh, is that your name?" Ben said coyly. Looking at this autographed relic tonight, I find humor how each politely and neatly wrote their names next to their individual pictures.
I believe this is the only autographed piece of merchandise / memorabilia I own. I like it. I like what it represents. I like the snapshot in time looking at it brings me back and, to some extent, the realization of how that time is in so many ways gone forever. (not the least of which is that Ben Folds Five is no more)
This post was initially started with the intention of bashing autograph hounds. I wanted to say how I won't buy something that is "already" autographed. Something that would include a bitter "if you didn't see the guy ink it himself, someone else forged it" remark. But maybe these people are able to recreate the feeling I have with my jewel case many times over?
But I won't get you off that easily - autograph junkies... Giving anybody a napkin or stupid piece of paper (stupid = something that shouldn't be autographed - like a receipt) to sign is pointless. Do you expect to frame that damp napkin to hang on a sad wall? Now that everyone has cameras in their cell phones - you don't need a napkin to prove your story.
Oh, and let's not forget these creepy individuals who are involved in the buying and selling of these tangible nothings online. I don't know who's sadder, the guy with a backback of stuff for multiple people to sign or those willing to buy it?
Before I forget, all this anti autograph talk is not intended for the young. Autograph seeking is one of the pure thrills of childhood. I have another friend who had an extremely successful by-mail autograph seeking campaign. It's definitely something to be proud of and look back upon with great fondness. But not something that should be continued into adulthood (as this specific friend would be the first to agree with me).
Which makes my only autograph, quite possibly my last autograph, of this Ben Folds Five album special to me. And that's a good thought for me to have tonight.
*In a surprising note to nobody, my curfew growing up was decided upon by me informing my parents shortly before I'd leave. This is primarily attributed to factors of lack of popularity and my general harmlessness.
Q: Do you have an opinion on beards? A: I welcome opinions formed out of perceptions of style, laziness, functionality and the like...
Could there be any other band to feature on a post such as this? Ladies and gentleman, here are the Fleet Foxes:
So I have sideburns, or attempts at such... They're not quite Elvis Quality - but they somewhat exist. If I could, I'd beard it up quicker than you can say 'caveman'.
Q: Have I decided upon a hotel for Las Vegas yet? A: Yes, Monte Carlo is the winner.
I am unable to ignore the great rate of $46 a night. As much as I told myself, "Next year, Mirage" in 2008's December - It' s not worth the extra money to me.
Not to mention, take a look at what restaurant is within extremely close walking distance:
I happen to know there's a sidewalk built underneath the expressway. Although, some people probably wouldn't put me walking across high speed traffic for a Double-Double.
The Monte Carlo might have had some problems re-establishing itself after it's fire: Maybe my Memory is wrong, but I thought the base room at the Monte Carlo was more expensive than the base room at New York New York. I have done a very small amount of gambling in their casino both before and after the famous fire and considered it rather nice. In fact, the casino floor is much nicer than that of Treasure Island.
Treasure Island, or "TI" as they want to be branded, is one of my more favorite locations to stay in Las Vegas. I've stayed there more than any other place. However, MGM Mirage sold it off recently and my MGM Mirage gift cards can't buy me a room anymore. I especially liked TI's location, kitty-corner from the Wynn Property:
While TI was my favorite place to stay, Wynn is my favorite place to play. Sadly, another bit of rough news came to my attention recently. The buy-in for their Daily Poker Tournaments have more than doubled.
I was hoping to play both the Noon and 8 pm Tournaments both on Monday and Tuesday of next week. But now I have a new strategy. I will just show up at the Wynn 3-4 hours before one of those tournaments and buy-into a cash game for the old Tournament Buy-in and try to chip up to the point of the new Tournament Buy-in. If I can't, well - then I'm not playing well enough for that tournament anyways and would have lost the same amount of money I would have if I had busted out early.
My flight, if it arrives on time, will get me to the Monte Carlo around 11 am. Perfect timing to give my bags to the bell hop before grabbing lunch. I definitely want to get my hands on some chips quick, and will give Monte Carlo the first shot... If I like what I'm experiencing, I'll stick around for the 3 pm sit-and-go tournament. If not, I'll start my long trek up The Strip. Taking pictures of the City Center development and anything new that wasn't there 11 months ago on my way to the 3 pm tournament at Caesar's Palace.
The intended destination will by the Wynn Poker Room, trying to earn my way into their tournament. I might also have a Roast Beef sandwich in the deli near it's Sports Book (great sandwich!).
This afternoon I loaded into my iPhone all the times for the daily tournaments at Caesars, Monte Carlo, TI, and The Mirage... Depending on my mood, willingness to walk, eagerness to play again, and general level of hunger appetite will decide where I meander next. I'll probably end up playing some other tables games at Paris (find the blue ceiling relaxing) or Planet Hollywood (find the dealers attractive) somewhere that first night as well.
As far as that Tuesday and Wednesday I'm in Vegas - that will depend a lot on what happens in those first few hours... What places I get a good vibe, what I want to do next, it's all up to me... One of the benefits of traveling solo.
I implore you, gentlemen of the world, to never make the following statement within earshot of a person rocking double x chromosomes: "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel is a horrible song.
Today I drove to the bank over my lunch hour. And it wasn't until I pulled into the bank's parking lot did I remember- -about Veteran's Day. (less than three hours earlier I wished my boss' boss, a Veteran, a happy one)
On the car ride, before the trip was ruined, the above mentioned song made famous by Say Anything was played on WXRT (Chicago FM 93.1).
A good friend yesterday is done with the FM side of the dial. He said he accidentally hit the "band" button in his car the other day and was disgusted. I don't feel this strongly and wanted to reinforce my not-yet-destroyed opinion of Terrestrial Radio.
Have I convinced you that I don't purposely cruise around the suburbs listening to the various solo efforts from the band Genesis? Truth be told, I really could use a Phil Collins track about now...
I have long joked that the Universal Feminine Love of "In Your Eyes" is the only thing that can rival their U.F.L. of Travel (i.e. "I love travel, I LOVE travel, I. LOVE. TRA. VEL."). Today was the first time in - I don't know how long - I listened to this song from start to finish. Intently listening.
It is a magnificent song. Worth of the esteem women keep for it. Of course, I don't believe it's quality is the primary force behind it's inclusion in the upper echelon of Fe-votion.
You've got the scores of women who danced to this song at their Prom. Then the dateless wonders who watched Say Anything that night instead.
(sigh)
For the record, yours truly didn't go to a Prom of any sort. Just consider that before you sharpen your knife after that 'dateless wonders' comment. Listening to "In Your Eyes" today is making me consider a very dangerous question of, "Should I re-watch Say Anything?" What could I gain from watching this? Besides, after my recent viewing of Road House I really can't say my Net Flix queue has any standards. I just don't want the death of John Cusack to have to push my hand in this.
Also for the record, I do not wish for any ill to come to John Cusack. Actually, I really hope he lives until at least the year 2013. God forbid if he dies in the year 2012... It will make us all have to acknowledge that movie again. (I say that like I don't fully expect to see myself in a mega large theater arena watching 2012 in the next month)
Why hasn't John Cusack and Vince Vaughn co-starred in a movie yet? Isn't there some out of work Chicago Meatball writer that's got a screenplay for that already? The thing writes itself doesn't it?
John plays "Jon" A smirking shy like a fox charmer.
Vince plays "Vin" A smrking wiseguy skeptical romantic.
Throw in - ah, hell - Kate Hudson for all I care. Along with some young hunk kid that's played some sort of Vampire in the last two years (Not to play a Vampire, but some young coworker / mutual acquaintance of Jon and Vin who is moving in on Meg Rya- I mean Kate Hudson's character).
In the culminating scene - Vin holds up his iPhone high into the air to try to get a better signal. Jon's call finally comes through to tell him the news we've all known since the first act. The ringtone: "In Your Eyes."
Which reminds me, how soon are we from a movie in which "texting" becomes such an overwhelming motif in a plot that it's almost its own character? How come I have yet to see an iPhone being used on the Big Screen?
The most popular thesis from the NYU Film School Class of 2039: The Use of The Text Message As A Thematic Vehicle
Two months ago someone I had met two hours earlier asked me, "You know who you look like?" I was very thankful that the answer in my mind was not the answer in hers! The nightmare of my bad Hollywood actor association may be done. His name will not be mentioned here, because I really think nobody knows who that SLC Punk is anymore (that's a clue if anybody really needs to know).
It wasn't the first time that someone has compared my looks to that of Vince Vaughn. The first person was actually a middle aged man, who was refereeing a park district league basketball game. This latest correlation, from an attractive woman in a bowling alley, was a lot less creepy than that first (a balding man on a basketball court). I'm a somewhat taller guy with sideburns - I honestly think that's all the factors being used for these people... I have no delusions of grandeur that I actually look like him.
You all know by now that I love the term "Mountie Rock." I am purposely pushing forward my agenda by mentioning it constantly here. Maybe one day it will come up in a Google Search. The hidden reason behind why I like that label is because assigning music the "indie rock" distinction feels as dumb as "alternative" felt like in the mid 90s.
Now we have a new genre that needs labeling. It's a subset that had way too many variations. Please ask somebody more in tune than I to help you distinguish between: Dance Club Trance House Trip Hop 2 Step Drum & Bass Big Beat Electronic
I almost went to a DJ Set by Basement Jaxx last Friday. I was on the phone asking a friend if he wanted to join me. He asked, "What kind of music is it?" My mind was cycling through the above list of classes and came up empty. I ended up not going to the show.
For this new genre I want to name, I'll use the similar geographical qualifications. Turns out I'm enjoying the upbeat high tempo music coming out of Australia.
It all started when iTunes picked a Cut Copy song for one of it's weekly free Discovery Downloads ("Sands of Time" is their latest song that I'm enjoying). I liked it, and signed up for a newsletter in order to download another one of their songs for free (the excellent "Hearts on Fire" track). The e-newsletter was from their record label: Modular.
That led me to Modcast, their free podcast featuring their other artists. Most of the acts also being Down Under Dance Machines*.
My pursuit to embed myself into the Great Barrier Beat* peaked with the Cut Copy show I saw in March 2009. A show that made me hunt down Craigslist tickets after it had sold out.
Lately I've found more Sydney Synth* and Melbourne Melody* acts such as The Satellites, The Presets and Ladyhawke. You can expect to have more of their catchier songs featured in upcoming posts. The problem is that no name that I come up with is sticking to my mind. I'm really starting to like this genre more and more - and what good am I at parties when someone asks me what I've been listening to recently and I'm unable to have a self invented musical distinction? I need a quick catchy title that will make people want me to expand. But maybe I should give up and just say coldly, "I've been listening to a lot of music from Australian born artists."
*These are all the horrible candidates floating in my head.
Q: Is it 3 am? A: It's time for awful late night poetry!
Opportunity knocks. On a house with more than one door.
Open one. Locking all others.
Inaction is an action. Comprehension confirms the choice.
Sometimes the knock changes. Creating doubts of its existence.
Worse, it was never a knock. Everything outside becomes more foreign.
What is better? Living under a good fantasy or realization of an actual helll?
The sun won't keep you warm on a cold day The night can't shield you from the nearby day.
That knocking is a beat. Reminicent of Poe's heart.
But it's vital. It keeps you alive.
Breathe. Knock.
How often is movement violent? Gracefulness disguised as deviousness? An eloborate elegance playing on the good natured. All to hoping for it to be without alterior motives. An accidental coincidence through accurate chaos. Assured calamity thanks to assumed consent. A soap opera full of dirt.
Single women like to dance Opportunitic men have a way to romance
My mind has trouble figuring out the simplest ideas such as turning itself off in an effort to stop considering the infinate potential combinations of how my social surroundings will challenge me in the next stage of a mision I gave yet to comprehend much less succeed especially when it's more than proven that over 99% of my anxiety never manifests.
another banquet celebrating the dedicated & enlightened.
Q: If you were raised by Dan Quiery, what fills you with a sense of pride? A: The successful inclusion of Public Transportation into your itinerary.
I understand that the following story will sound fruitless to most. But most weren't raised by my Father. My Dad loves Public Transportation. He's one of its stronger advocates.
Tonight I did him proud. And I have to admit, this fills me with a sense of accomplishment.
Tonight I came home from work. I relaxed. Watched one of my favorite TV shows, The Soup, at 9pm. After the show ended at 9:30 I got up and left my condo. Walked the few blocks to the Metra station in downtown Des Plaines. Less than five minutes later, the train arrived to wisk me into the City Proper.
I got off at the Irving Park stop. Briskfully walked across the street and up the escalator to the CTA platform. Easily, without a doubt, it was the shortest time I ever had to wait for a train. About four stops later I'm off the train again at the corner of California and Milwaukee.
It was a nice November evening in Chicago today. About fifty degrees. Just warm enough to warrant me going jacketless tonight. Long sleeves served just fine.
Less than twenty minutes later, up California to the north, and over Fullerton walking east, I had arrived at my destination for the night.
A few beverages with a couple friends. Ears willing to help me decompress my latest drama. A roast beef sandwich on top. Not to mention, a few tunes from a local band.... And I'm off...
This time west on Fullerton and south on California. The wait at the eL stop was a little longer than I would've liked now (just after 12:15 am). A quick hustle back across the street at the Irving Park stops provided the night's only true drama.
But fear not, I was able to catch the very last outbound train. Promptly at 12:43 am. Bringing me back to downtown Des Plaines some fifteen minutes ago at 1:04. Allowing me to be blogging in front of my computer by 1:15.
By the time I have finished this post, it's 1:30. Exactly four hours from the time I left here. I feel like I hit the town with the precision of a sniper.
What did I actually accomplish? Not much.
But it was better than what I did yesterday: Watch Road House on DVD.
The New Year's Eve show at the Congress Theater is sold out.
I let out a very loud four letter F word when I found this out minutes ago.
There's no need for me to be this pissed.
At best, there was a 15% chance of me going to this show.
Yes, I fully contemplated buying a pair of tickets fully expecting the sell out.
But I didn't...
(There's another, louder but silent, stream of profanity in my mind now)
But I need to convince myself that this development, although bad, would be worse if I had actually gotten those tickets.
I would have bought a pair and probably would have had to sell them after I was unable to convince anybody to join me.
So not only would my brief possession of such tickets be ultimately just a tease, the entire fruitless venture of asking others would've made me feel worse.
Chalk it up to another reason why NYE is incredibly painful on the single.
This wouldn't have been an issue if I had a...
I wanted to write about a good bit of concert news I learned about today.
Please, let me try to wash away that bad news with some great news: Land of Talk is coming back to perform in Chicago.
This Canadian (Yes, they are "Mountie Rock") band was one of the many unexpected highlights when I saw Broken Social Scene a little over a year ago when they opened for the multi-member infinitely-awesome band.
The show is Saturday December 12 at The Empty Bottle.
The cost of a ticket is $8.
Seriously, it's only going to take me dropping 32 quarters to see this act?
That Girl Talk show had a price of $35 dollars. American.
In other recent, and only relevant inside my own ears, there's a new song that's going to push itself onto my top songs of 2009 list: "Enter Galactic" by Kid Cudi
