Driving and Drinking...seperate lines of thought

Like a bad blogger, I neglected to tell everyone I was leaving for Las Vegas today. I was having a really good evening, watching basketball and listening to Sonny Bono (listened to I have you babe so often it was becoming an issue). The drive to Las Vegas is a combination of pleasre and pain, as you're going to a place where pleasure and fun are limitless, and pain because the drive across the desert and over three seperate mountain passes and through some of the least scenic driving this fine country has to offer. That being said, since i had all the time in the world, with no real agenda at hand, I did stop on the side of the road at the San Luis Resivouir, and took a picture, as it's a place I've always though was nice, but have never stopped to smell the roses...this was resolved this time...that's the picture at the top of the page...

Driving is one of those catch-22's in life I constantly deal with. I hate hate hate flying with a passion, and it's actually a requirement for my job, so i just have to suck it up and deal with it (i guess the result without flying is shittier, with lots of high school kids in the back seats of vans doing God Know What (I actually think i know, but the world of plasuable deniability is key in my line of work, or really anyone at all that has some modicum of responsibility). So driving means i don't have to be in an airplane. But it does mean that trips take much much much longer than they would have otherwise. In a world of flying here, it takes me about 3 hours from my house to the LV airport, and the drive takes no less than 7 hours, and that takes a level of dedication most people couldn't find on a map. And anyone who has been in a car for 8 hours knows what i'm talking about- at some point, you get ready to be out of the vehicle, and in the hotel appreciating Sonny Bono and his wonderous musical selection. It's at this point you start to wonder aloud why you didn't fly (for me, this is in Bakersfield, CA, a place that if it were firebombed tomorrow, i would only need to make one call, and then if it was blown off the face of the earth, the EARTH would be a better place.

But the drive does allow one to give time for reflection- time we never seem to take for ourselves. It seems that too often, we find time to do things for everyone else- our family, our friends, our significant other, our employers, our students...everyone but ourselves. I'm not saying we should all go out and treat the world with one of my favorite Eminem songs "I Just Don't Give a Fuck," but i am saying we all need to be more self reflective- and it's really hard to be self reflective with a bunch of other motherfuckers around. Some people can do this through meditation, tai-chi, yoga or any other variety of means. But we can all do it- it just requires you shut the hell up and listen to YOU. there is no requirement of selfishness required to do this, nobody's telling you to stop working at the homeless shelter or stop donating time and money to the SPCA. But i am saying that if you do all of these wonderful things in direct opposition with your needs, it'll just make you regret your choices and be spiteful from things you determine as responisble for your not making better choices..

Now that i have waxed much more philosophical than i had intended, let's talk about some shit that's more fun...Las Vegas liquor laws. I fucking love them!! I know if they had these laws in my home town, I'd move closer to the role of town drunk. Open containers on the street- are you kidding me?!? I love that. How many times have we all been enjoying the finer spirits when we needed to relocate, but have been unable to take our beverage on the road with us? It's a total boot in the junk. In my favorite town (actually it's 3rd, but there's no gambling in the other two towns, Eugene, OR and Austin, TX- yes they're both college towns), you can take your beverage with you, insuring there's never a block of time when you can't have a beer. The 24-7 service law is also cash money. Most of the time, when a good time is truly being had, the sounds of the bartender making last call as the lights come on and they play "Closing Time"- you don't gotta go home but you can't stay here (unless you know the bartender and they shut the doors to the public). If this town had legal weed, and legal sex, it would be the perfect town (wait, there IS legal sex here, so two out of three ain't bad). I've stumbled ALL OVER this town at some time in my life way way way after 2am, with two drinks in my hand and one in my pocket and was still able to be served- this would be a crime in 49 states, and most of this one as well, but they let you do it.

This town has a motto, but the town motto should be something i will borrow from Paul Beatty in my favorite book, White Boy Shuffle. In it, there's a character named Psycho Loco, the leader of a gang named the Gun Totin' Hooligans, that ironically, didn't initially carry guns....
"Always have your dick out. That way, whatever happens, you can say 'Hey, at least I had my dick out.'" It's a little longer than "what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas," but much more true. What happens in Vegas you should tell fucking everybody. What happens in Amarillo, TX, keep that shit to yourself (like your uncle trying to fuck you...)

One more big up before i hit the strip with my boys Gentile and Big Jim...if you have an iPhone or an iTouch, you have to get the application FML...it's short snipets of peoples lives that just fucking suck. I laughed so hard i almost died...here's a really short one...

"I was having sex with my boyfriend. When he was about to orgasm, he screamed "Yes Brittany!!" at the top of his lungs. My name isn't Brittany. That's his sister."

If that shit's not funny to you, there's no way you would have gotten this far on the blog...

to the strip....not strip club...yet....