I’m on the verge of getting back from Las Vegas. And a bunch of other places, some not worth mentioning.
And the reason I went to Las Vegas is because my wife and I have bought a condo there. No, there was no lottery win. It’s all because the US economy is badly misbehaving as you know, and housing prices all over the country, including Vegas, have taken nosedives. You’d be shocked at the deal we got for a two-bedroom, two-bathroom condo not far from the Strip. So we went there to paint and scrub.
And we’re not moving to Vegas, not this good Canadian couple. It’ll just be a place to go to now and again, let friends use it when they want, and hope the economy rebounds and it goes up in value and I make enough money to become a minority owner of the Montreal Canadiens.
It was while in Vegas that the news broke about Guy Carbonneau which I was able to grab ahold of it because of my laptop and recently-installed internet service. And I found a place nearby our new condo that has 24 oz. glasses of beer for $3,50, plus a lot of world-class pool players. And those 24 oz. beers are so heavy that I’ve told myself that if I just change hands every time I take a drink, I’ll be getting some serious exercise.
It was a long drive there, and I just wish I could’ve started this story the way Hunter S. Thompson, in his book ‘Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas’, started his –
“We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like, “I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive . . .”And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about 100 miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas. And a voice was screaming: “Holy Jesus! Who are all these goddamn animals?”
Part two – the trip home- coming up shortly.