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Prologue

June 30

July 1

Six Days in Sin City
Day One- June 30, 2005
Travel Day and Arrival in Las Vegas

Sven and Cindi arrived at my house at precisely 10:30 AM, just like we planned it. I love punctuality. Sven came up the fire escape, and we grabbed my bags and headed outside. I loaded my luggage into Cindi's van and wished Kitty an excellent week. Sven and I both gave her hugs and she wished us a safe journey. I gave her the keys to my apartment and told her to make sure it didn't burn down while I was gone. At 11:00 AM we arrived at Syracuse's Hancock International Airport. Our flight was scheduled to take off at noon.
The NSA security guys were absolute jerks. I had deliberately worn shorts and sandals to avoid having problems with the metal detectors. But of course, a Punk guy traveling to Las Vegas must be some kind of major threat…
Sven passed through without so much as a blink from security. He sat and waited about 15 feet away as the NSA bastards unpacked my entire bag and went through every little thing I had. They were going to keep my micro screwdriver set that I use for fixing my cameras, recorders, and my glasses. And then, on top of everything else, they weren't going to put my stuff back away. I was pissed off and I told them so! I was telling the guy that he was going to help me re-pack my bag whether he liked it or not.

It was hard enough doing it with help, let alone with a broken hand. So, he sort of helped… Bastards! I am all for safety on airplanes, but… I think a lot of these NSA guys are using their limited power to just piss some people off. They had this one elderly gent pulled off to the side too, going through his bags. The guy was OBVIOUSLY NOT a security threat, (He could hardly walk), but they were giving him the third degree as well. Poor guy…
So, after jumping through all of the security hoops and whatnot, Sven and I finally got to our gate. We grabbed a snack and a drink and waited to board our plane. I was livid from my experience with the security guys. As Sven signed postcards, I angrily joked that the next time I flew I would wear a turban and just keep screaming, "Jihad!" Sven told me to calm down and quit saying "Jihad" before they told us we couldn't get on the plane. I finally calmed down when they called for us to get on the plane.
When the passengers were done boarding, stowing their gear in the overhead compartments, and getting comfortable; the captain came on the PA system and informed us that there would be about a twenty minute delay in our take-off time due to bad weather in Detroit. It seemed they were having some really bad thunderstorms. Twenty minutes later we took off. Sven and I were just happy to be on our way. The flight to Detroit was uneventful. The crew served us a drink and we purchased some trail mix for a dollar. The next thing we knew, we were landing in Detroit.
We now had a three hour layover to deal with.
Sven and I both needed a cigarette, so we found our way to the FOX SkyBox. The sports bar was the only place you could smoke inside the airport without having to pass through security again. We had a drink and a smoke and were feeling pretty good. Our waitress Danielle was VERY friendly and cute. We talked to her about our adventure, as well as what I do. I gave her a button and she promised to check out my site. We told her we would stop by and see her again on our way back. She told us she would keep an eye out for us. With some time to kill, Sven and I walked around the airport.

We checked out a bunch of the shops, including The Motown Store. They carried all sorts of Motown paraphernalia with records on them and more. The thing that caught my eye was the Penny Cruncher. I love crushed pennies, and have been collecting them for some time. If you have never seen what I am talking, about a brief explanation is in order. The machine is about the size of a newspaper box with a big crank handle on the front. The handle is attached to a big wheel inside that turns. On the front of the wheel there are up to four picture designs with an arrow to line them up. You choose your design, then put two quarters and a penny into the slider. After pushing the slider in, the penny falls into place and you turn the crank. The wheel spins around exerting about twenty tons of pressure on the coin and the design you chose gets imprinted on the crushed penny. (It's like putting a penny on a railroad track, except you get a neat picture on it.) I got two pennies, one from Detroit Airport and one that says Motown. After that we decided to eat. There was a food court and we chose to eat at Burger King. It was the quickest and cheapest way to go. After our meal, we hopped the elevated Tram that ran the length of the airport to our gate. There were signs on the glass all around the Tram area that read "Do Not Touch Doors." Being the jokers that we are, Sven and I couldn't resist. We stood right next to the signs and Sven put his dirty fingers all over the glass as I laughed and snapped photos. Soon, we were on the next leg of our journey.

The flight to Indianapolis went quickly. We barely seemed to get to cruising altitude before we were headed back down to land again. We had less than an hour layover in Indianapolis, but we were bound to get a smoke in. We decided it would be much simpler if we smoked separately. One of us would stay with our gear while the other smoked and vice versa. That way neither of us would have to go though problems with security again. It seemed like a great plan when we thought it up… But, you know what they say about the best laid plans of Mice and Men… They often go awry.
Being the frontman for this operation, I was to go smoke first. I emptied my pockets of everything except my cigarettes and a book of matches. I walked out past the security guys saying that I would be back in a few moments. I found my way to the front gate and went outside to light up. It was a nice day and I was enjoying the air. I headed back up to the gate with all the intentions of easily walking right through security and sending Sven out for his smoke. WRONG!!!
The next thing I knew the NSA guys were wanding me with handheld metal detectors. Then, the guy took a round piece of material that looked like an industrial sized Stridex pad and was rubbing it all over my cast. He took the paper and put it into a machine that looked a lot like a CD player. It beeped and flashed for a few seconds before giving a green light. I had never seen anything like it.

I asked what it was and was told that it could detect trace amounts of plastic explosives. I was shocked. They were testing my cast to see if it would explode! I couldn't believe it. How dangerous can a guy with a Mohawk dressed in black shorts, a touristy blue Hawaiian shirt, and sandals look?
These were the exact same guys that I had told seven minutes earlier that I was going out for a cigarette. They saw me come off of the other plane. They saw me in the terminal. They saw the cast as I past them on my way out… What the Hell is wrong with these people? Did they really think that I flew into Indianapolis with a fake cast to meet up with some terrorist only to switch the cast for one made of explosives? IDIOTS!
Sven was again sitting about twenty feet away and watched the whole thing. I shot him a look and he just shrugged… It was bizarre.

I finally got through with the NSA guys. When I got to Sven he was just shaking his head. I put my rings and necklace back on. I waited with our gear as Sven went out for his cigarette. He returned less than ten minutes later. Again, he walked right through the checkpoint with no hassle. I was flabbergasted!
It must be me. I guess I just stand out to the security guys. I don't know what their criteria for searching people are, but I OBVIOUSLY meet it. Let's face it, I know what I look like and I try to make myself as inconspicuous as possible when traveling, but the only way I could get more attention from the police is if I was a Black man driving a Donut! I fumed as we waited to leave.
A short time later, the woman at the counter called for us to board the plane. Moments later, we were up and out of Indianapolis. Next stop: Las Vegas! The flight to Las Vegas was chill. We met some cool people on the plane and we had great conversations. One girl from the Washington, DC area was going to the Red Hot Chili Peppers/Weezer show as well. She looked young and when she informed us that she was thirty-eight years old, our jaws dropped. She looked about twenty-two. I gave her Rob's cell phone number and told her to look us up at the concert. As we got closer to our destination, it grew steadily darker. Soon, the only things you could see out the window were the lights on the wings and the lighted grids of cities below.

As we began our descent into Las Vegas, Sven and I looked out the window in awe. It was beautiful. We could see the casinos all lit up and the Stratosphere Tower rising up from the desert floor. The most interesting thing from my perspective was the Luxor Casino; a huge black pyramid with a brilliant light in the top that shoots a beam straight up. The light, which is so intensely bright that it can bee seen from the moon, attracted a visible halo of moths around its base; which in turn, attracted a cloud of Bats. There were so many, that you could actually see them from the plane as far away as we were. It was like something from a Vampire novel. The bats swooped and circled gorging themselves on the endless insect buffet. Even the lesser mammals win in Las Vegas! It was fascinating...
The captain came over the PA and informed us of the weather and thanked us for flying with them. Moments later he executed a perfect landing and we were in Las Vegas! As soon as we entered the Las Vegas Airport I pulled out a dollar, walked to the first slot machine, put in my money and pulled the handle.
I won two dollars. Whoo-hoo! We found a pay phone and called Rob. I left him a message that we had arrived, and then, I called Monty to make arrangements to meet up with him the next day on The Strip.

We found our way to the cab line-up and got a ride in a Star Cab. I thought it was cool that it was called that, and so did Sven. I gave the cabbie the directions that Rob had given us to get to his apartment complex. We got their quickly and then got slightly lost after being dropped by the cab. Sven and I couldn't figure out how the numbers worked on the buildings and ended up going to four different apartments before finding Rob's Place. We finally found what appeared to be the correct apartment. The key was where it was supposed to be and we let ourselves in. We set down our gear and quickly looked around.
We still weren't sure we were in the right place. As we looked around the house for proof that we were, in fact, in the right place, the front door opened up and in walked Rob's Uncle Bill. He was a little drunk and asked how long we had been there. We informed him we had arrived less than five minutes before he did. He told us to stow our gear and come with him. We walked across the street to a plaza and headed to a bar called The Greens, where Bill is a regular. He introduced us to the bartenders and bought several rounds of drinks as we played Video Poker. We bought several more rounds of drinks, talked, laughed, and drank heavily. By the time we left, everyone was pretty drunk. We got back to the house and Bill had to go to sleep because he had to be up for work the next morning. Not being used to being awake so long, Sven fell asleep on the couch and I videotaped him snoring. It is pretty funny.

A little while later, Rob came home. We rolled a big fat joint and talked about things and people in Syracuse. We smoked the joint down to a good sized roach and left it in the ashtray. Rob told me to smoke it in the morning to prepare for my "Gonzo Las Vegas" experience. He had to work the next day as well, so he went off to bed. I jumped on the computer and checked my email. It seemed that I was going to be getting screwed on the Billy Idol show for July 3rd. That really bummed me out.
I checked a few more things, sent out a bulletin on MySpace and then I was done. I shut off Rob's computer and drifted off for a few hours of well deserved sleep.