Monday

We were exhausted from all the traveling and lack o’ sleep Saturday into Sunday, and conked out relatively early on Sunday night. But we were up and swinging for the fences early on Monday. Toney wanted to check out a breakfast restaurant inside The Mirage called Pantry. Not The Pantry, mind you. Just Pantry.

So, we got ready and went downstairs around 8:00 or 8:15. And there was already a big-honkin’ line of people waiting to get into the place. So, funk dat. I’m not waiting in some kind of Space Mountain queue for eggs. “Wanna try the buffet?” she asked. Buffet?? Why wasn’t that our first choice?

It’s called Cravings and it cost us roughly twenty bucks each. It felt wildly expensive to me, but I was still young and inexperienced at this point. Oh… I would learn. I would come to realize that the breakfast buffet was a freaking bargain, compared to some of the outrageously-priced shit we encountered there.

A crazy only-in-Vegas thing happened as we paid our admission fee: the cashier asked if we were interested in adding unlimited beer and wine for $12.99 each. “At breakfast??” I bellowed. She just shrugged and took that as a no. And, as ludicrous as it seems, we actually saw people in there eating pancakes and drinking red wine. Before 9 am. WTF?? Were they hardened alcoholics, still up from the night before, or just on vacation and saying fukkit? It’s hard to know.

Some other buffet questions… In a world where every food in the world is available to you, why would you eat cereal? That almost pissed me off, for some reason. Also, people actually prepare giant stacks of buttered toast? I thought that only happened on Leave It To Beaver? But I saw multiple people with teetering toast stacks on their tables. Weird.

It was great, and we ended up returning every morning, except for the day we went to the Grand Canyon.  The omelet station was fantastic and served as a perfect foundation for the gluttony that was to follow. I actually developed a system, whereby I ate the same things every day, in the exact same order. Oh, I had it down to a fatass science. Highly recommended!

Then we ordered a car through Lyft, and the dude never showed up. At least not to our agreed-upon location. My phone told me he was there, but he was not. I called, and he never answered. That was annoying. There’s only one place they’ll let you do ride-sharing at The Mirage, and we were there. He was not. We were charged five bucks because WE didn’t show up. Bastards.

So, I ordered another car from Uber and got some redhaired dude around 30 years old. He seemed OK at the beginning, but as he continued to talk we realized he was a little braggy. Talking about how he and his wife are homeschooling their kids, and giving all manner of opinions about all sorts of things. All designed to make him seem highly accomplished and smart. He also used a lot of profanity, which is not really a problem, of course. But he didn’t know us. Right? By the time he dropped us off at the Neon Museum, I wasn’t a huge fan. Oh, he was fine, I guess. He just liked to pat himself on the back a lot.

I think this might’ve been the hottest day in a long line of hot days. Holy mackerel! While we were at the (outdoor) museum it was 106, according to my awash-in-sweat ass and phone. And it felt like the sun was reflecting off the metal of all those signs, making it even more “challenging.” The place was quirky and cool, and I’m certainly glad we visited it. But the thing I remember most about it: goddamn hot. Just impossibly hot.

Ol’ Red told us that the neighborhood — not far from Fremont Street — is sketchy. In fact, he doesn’t pick up fares there. He’ll drop people off but won’t pick anybody up. And it looked a little scummy, especially compared to The Strip. But not that bad. We wanted to check out Fremont Street but didn’t want to walk the half-mile in the heat to get there. So, we engaged our friends at Uber again.

A black man in his early 30s picked us up, and he had bottles of water and assorted snacks. Hell yeah. I knocked back some much-needed water, and he entertained us with some tall tales. He kept calling his car “a rolling air-conditioned oasis,” which I appreciated. He dropped us at Fremont Street, and I gave him a $5 tip on a $6 fare.

By this point it was about 3:30, so we went into a place called Banger Brewing. They make their beers on the premises, and we partook of several of them. Good stuff. We also had “bacon popcorn,” which was delicious. We were just trying to get our core temperatures down, after that hellish furnace we’d just endured at the Neon Museum.

Then we walked around a bit and wandered into the world-famous dive bar, Atomic Liquors. Toney didn’t like the looks of it, and whispered to me, “We’re only having one… and pay with cash.” Heh. But the bartender was great, and she stood there talking to us for a long time. Very friendly, and the beer was good. I love dive bars. Toney? Not so much.

That neighborhood was very questionable, indeed. The other end of Fremont Street seemed less so, but nothing happened. I mean, seriously. There was a shitty casino nearby, called the Western Hotel that I found fascinating. When we got back to the room I read everything I could find on it. Cool stuff!

Eventually, we were thoroughly sapped of all our energy, ’cause of the sun and beer. So, we had Uber take us back to our less-seedy digs on The Strip. A woman from Trinidad and Tobago (which is it??) picked us up. She was fantastic. Very funny and entertaining. She got the top tip, as well.

We went back to the room and decompressed. We cranked the AC down to about 57 and had another Sierra Nevada. Toney turned on the local news, and there was a story about how to coyote-proof your dog. One of their suggestions was a vest, like this one. I couldn’t stop laughing. We also saw a political commercial featuring one of the Property Brothers. I guess he lives there and is supporting something or other. I don’t like that.

Eventually, we went back downstairs, and that place was rocking. As soon as the elevator doors opened you could hear a roar of drunken humanity. Crazy. We wandered over to the Concierge desk and purchased two tickets to the Beatles Love show for Thursday night. Roughly $100 each. Shit!

Then we went to a “funky” restaurant called The Still. We’d picked this place out via the internet, and it seemed right up our alley. They told us it would be a ten-minute wait, even though I could see many open tables. So, we just wandered off and went through the Beatles shop nearby. When we were finished there, we still had nothing from The Still saying our table was ready. So, Toney put a dollar into a slot machine, did one spin and won $15.75. She cashed out, and our table was ready. That was the full extent of our gambling.

And I would not recommend the restaurant. They have an old Airstream camper in there, where the food is prepared. You have to walk up to it, place your order, and pay there. But if you want drinks, you pay a waitress. So, you’re paying in multiple places. And I mean PAYING. We had two orders of “street tacos,” and it ran us something like sixty bucks. They were fine but should’ve cost thirty, or maybe twenty-five.

Plus… get this! We had one beer each, and it cost us $27.82. That’s with a $4 tip. I took a photo of the receipt, so I’d remember the exact amount. Is that insane, or what?

I was mildly pissed when we left that place, ’cause of the high cost of the mediocre food and drink, and the general unfriendliness of the staff. Like Johnny Rotten once said, “Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?”

And I don’t have any more notes about that day, so I guess nothing else happened?

Here are some Monday photos.

I probably won’t be able to update tomorrow, because I need to record a podcast. But I’ll be back on Thursday and Friday.

Have a great one, my friends!

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I’m going to try to keep this thing under control. Once I start on these big epics, I tend to get carried away and go way too deep with it. But I’m going to attempt to give you guys the highlights (and a few photos) of our big 25th Anniversary trip to Las Vegas in two updates, and one podcast. Even that seems ridiculous, but I have some good stories, I think. So, today I’m going to cover Sunday through Tuesday here, and Wednesday in the podcast. How’s that sound? Let’s get started, shall we?

Sunday

I couldn’t sleep Saturday into Sunday, because of all the craziness that would be happening the next day. I might’ve gotten four hours, but I’m not even sure about that. We left our house about 8 am and headed toward Philadelphia, where our flight was scheduled for 12:40 or somesuch. We gave the kids one more warning speech and told them we’d see ’em in a week. Gulp.

It was rainy and cold and felt like full-on fall out there. It put me in a good mood. There’s nothing better than a dreary overcast day.

The flight was on time but packed to the hilt. I was jammed between Toney and some hipster and was riding on the cusp of a full claustrophobia freakout the whole time. But I maintained. We landed in Chicago a couple of hours later, but it felt like six hours. Or maybe ten. I’m not a fan of Southwest’s seating scheme, where it’s basically first-come-first-served. That’s boolshit.

This guy was across the aisle from me. Good times.

Anyway, we had a two-hour layover in Chicago and scarfed down a burger each from a Billy Goat Tavern outpost. I’ve been to the original location and remembered that it was pretty good. But the burgers on Sunday were only so-so. The buns were good, I’ll give them that much. Then we just hung out and charged our phones before the people-packing re-commenced.

However… right before they started boarding, an announcement was made that sent shockwaves through the poorly-dressed and fat-wrapped crowd: there will be 45 open seats on the flight! There was spontaneous applause. So, Toney and I had a seat between us, and that made it a million times better. But, people were coughing and hacking on that thing like we were in a 1956 tuberculosis sanitarium. Good god!

When we finally arrived in Las Vegas I summoned a car through Lyft. I generally use Uber but had two $5 credits. An Asian man named A&W (or something similar) picked us up in a fancy SUV and took us to The Mirage. He was friendly but not super-interested in chitchat. I snapped the photo at the top as we walked in. It’s a beautiful place, some kind of rainforest oasis in the middle of the desert.

Oh, and by the way… when we left Philadelphia it was 55 degrees, and 104 when we landed in Vegas. Yikes.

We went up to our room and it was nice. I wished the view was better, but whatever. Why start looking for negatives, right out of the box? There would be plenty of opportunities for such things.

Across the street was a Walgreens that we’d already scoped out via the internet. They sell beer and wine and liquor, and various other essentials. So, we headed over there, to get our room set up for the stay. And man… that place was crazy. It was all about the booze, and it felt like everybody was already drunk anyway. They had many, many cashiers and just rapidly cycled through the customers. Wild shit. We bought a 12 pack of Sierra Nevada and various other items, including a questionable environmentally-correct “cooler.”

The nighttime picture above was snapped during one of our excursions to the Rock n Roll Walgreens as I dubbed it. You can’t see it in the photo, but it’s over there somewhere. I was there a half-dozen times, and it was ALWAYS raucous.

After we got our room in order and enjoyed a couple of well-earned adult beverages (see me drinking to the right), we headed over to Gordon Ramsay’s Fish and Chips for dinner. It’s on The Linq Promenade, which is a fancy-ass alley lined with businesses, basically. It’s just a carryout place, where you order at the counter. Freaking fantastic. I don’t know if I was just hungry, or what. But that shit was great.

And do you see how it goes? I’m a full update into this thing and barely finished with Sunday. I’ll have to write on Tuesday and Friday, I think, in addition to Thursday. In the meantime, here’s your link to the Monday podcast. And this is the description:

In this one, I  tell you about our day trip to the Grand Canyon during our recent Las  Vegas visit. Was it worth it? Was it fun? Well… you’ll just have to listen to find out. You’ll also get to meet The Spaniards, the unfriendly hippies from Luxembourg, Bucket Boy, the woman who barely escaped a horrible sandwich death, and  a cast of thousands. Oh, it was quite memorable. And the Canyon was pretty interesting too.

I’ll be back tomorrow, my friends. I hadn’t planned on it, but need to get this story on virtual paper before I forget two-thirds of it. I’ll also post some Grand Canyon photos to go with the podcast episode. Have a great day!

See you on Tuesday afternoon.

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I just uploaded the 20th episode of The Jeff Kay Show podcast, over at Patreon. It went well, I think. Some of ’em go better than others. This one flowed, in some kind of highly amateurish way. The title: The Swirl Was Starting To Sag! And the description:

In this one, I power through several topics I had scribbled in my big notebook o’ nonsense. Including an update on the brand new Dairy Queen near our house, the reason I can’t return to the KFC near my job, a crazy man with a dog inside Costco, our son who likes to run up restaurant tabs, a man who’s reportedly never burped, and a Beatles-themed Whistle Dick of the Week. There might be other little tidbits in there too that I’m not remembering, but those are the “highlights.” Enjoy!

I’m getting mixed signals on the podcast. On one hand… almost no feedback. That indicates to me that it’s not very good. However… the Monday episodes are being downloaded in large number. So, I don’t know. I’m not sure what’s going on. In any case, I’m having a blast doing them. It’s fun, and I’m frankly surprised that I’ve been able to pull it off so far. Twenty episodes already! That’s crazy.

Anyway, this is a Thursday episode, available to Patreon supporters only. But there are five episodes available at all the normal podcast places. Including — as of just a few days ago — Spotify. They’re the most difficult, requiring a lot of hoops-jumping, etc. Even more than Apple, if you can believe it.

So, there you go. I’m loving the podcast so far. I hope you guys are getting some enjoyment out of it too.

This is my last update for a while. Toney and I leave on Sunday, for our big Las Vegas trip. I told her I’m only going to care about two things next week: Carrot Top and roulette. That’s a joke, of course. I have no idea how to play roulette and no interest in learning. If there’s any gambling at all, it’ll be twenty bucks in a slot machine. And even that probably won’t happen. With twenty bucks I could go full-all you can eat somewhere. Ya know?

And Carrot Top… I sneer at the man because he pulls a trunk full of props onto the stage. Right? And that screams hack. But the thing is, he’s a pro and I’d probably be laughing my ass off. I won’t be finding out, however. There will be no Carrot Top in my near future. You know, as far as I know.

No, it’ll be all about food and beverage, a day trip to the Grand Canyon,  the Neon Museum, a few other odds and ends, and some more food and beverage. Follow me on Instagram and I’ll keep you updated on our whereabouts. Should be fun!

When I lived and worked in California we had multiple “meetings” in Las Vegas, and always stayed at Treasure Island, for some reason. My boss’s boss LOVED going there and booked as many so-called meetings in the city as possible. After his best friend dropped dead at an early age, he took an early retirement and moved to his beloved Las Vegas. He planned to travel the world, and not squander his remaining time working. And… he was promptly murdered. At a Vegas car wash. And how’s that for an uplifting story?

But I’m hoping to understand his love for the place. I’ve been there multiple times, and it’s… interesting. But I never fully understood why he was so enamored. He’s literally one of the smartest guys I’ve ever met. I’m hoping to unlock the mystery next week. We’ll see what happens.

For a Question, I’d like to know your favorite tourist traps. You know, places that attract massive numbers of tourists… but are just super-enjoyable regardless? Myrtle Beach jumps to mind. It’s the definition of touristy, and hipsters turn their noses up at it, but I have a blast every time. Without exception. I’m hoping to add Las Vegas to the list, but it’s still undetermined. What do you have on this one?

Also, what were the most disappointing tourist destinations? The automatic answer for me: Niagara Falls. I was bored within the hour, and everything felt kinda… seedy. Help me out with this one too, if you’re so inclined.

And I’m going to call it a day here.

I’ll be back on September 17, with a new Surf Report update and a new podcast episode.

Follow me on Instagram for ridiculous travel updates, as well as my world famous #baseballweirdness photo series. And I use the term “world famous” loosely, very loosely.

Have a great weekend!

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It’s as humid as the underside of a Walmart shopper’s backflaps today. I saw the birds flying in a V on Saturday, which means this hell is almost over. But it ain’t over yet. Sweet sainted mother of Sebastian Cabot. Summer is bullshit and it’s not going to go quietly.

Today is our 25th wedding anniversary if you can believe it. And I did something unorthodox and just wished Toney a happy anniversary face-to-face. You know, just here? Inside our house? I didn’t feel the need to use Facebook as a middleman on that deal. Since she’s, you know, in the same building as I am? Crazy, I know.

We’re going to Las Vegas on Sunday to celebrate. I’m not sure how we decided on Vegas, but we did. It should be fun, I hope. We’ve both been there, but never together. Neither of us are gamblers, so that’s not the draw. We just wanted something unusual that wasn’t going to break the bank. We’ll be gone for a week, and it’ll be mostly about gluttony. At least on my part. I’m going to eat my way right up to the cusp of a blackout, then wash it all down with copious amounts of craft beer. Just like I did on our honeymoon, a quarter century ago. Holy shit!

I might attempt to tip my way to a room upgrade. Have you ever been successful with something like that? I’m not usually that ballsy, but what do I care at this point? I think that city runs on tips and bribes, anyway. I’m going to try to tap into that shit, too. Let me know if you have any suggestions or stories on that front. Use the comments section. I need guidance.

Oh, and before I forget… No updates next week. The bunker is going dark. No podcasts either. However, I plan to document the trip in real time on Instagram, using the hashtag #JeffInVegas. So, feel free to follow me there, or just follow the hashtag itself. A handful of other Jeffs have used it in the past, but not very many. And the most recent is from 2017. So, I’m taking it over, dammit.

Speaking of the podcast, I finally uploaded the Monday episode, right here. And this is the description:

All of us have encountered various forks in the road during our lives, points where we were forced to make big decisions on how to proceed. And, if you’re like me, you’re convinced you made the wrong choice nearly every time. In this one I tell you about the unlikeliest of such forks and the way in which I botched it. I hope you enjoy it! Pass the beer nuts.

This one’s available at all the regular podcast places, as well as Patreon. I’ll do a Patreon-only Thursday show (and Surf Report update) this week, and then I’m on vacation until 9/17. The good news? I should have no shortage of stories when I return. Oh yeah.

Help me out with your tipping stories, won’t you? Do you have good success? I don’t think I’ve ever attempted it. Oh, I tip for superior (or even mediocre) service. But not to get an upgrade, or something like that. Do you have anything on this?

And I’m cutting this one short. It’s a holiday, as well as our anniversary, and I probably shouldn’t be in front of the computer. Right? By the way, a weird mailman just delivered a CD to me from Amazon. It was a tiny, tiny person with a backpack and a windbreaker with a hood. WTF? He/She was driving an official mail truck, and I don’t know what the hell’s going on… It’s Labor Day, for one thing. They deliver mail on national holidays now? And it’s a million degrees outside. Why the winter coat and luggage? The whole thing was bizarre. Here’s what they brought me. EASILY my favorite lesbian Australian indie rock singer. There’s not even a close second.

I’ll see you guys again on Thursday.

Have a great week, my friends!

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Yesterday I was supposed to meet Steve for lunch at Cracker Barrel in Wilkes-Barre, at 12:30. And I got absorbed into one of the worst traffic clusterfucks I’ve ever encountered during my long, undistinguished life. This screenshot from my phone tells part of the story. As you can see, it’s 1:15 when I grabbed it — a full 45 minutes after I was supposed to be there. And the Barrel was a mere 2.4 miles from where I was sitting, but still a 27-minute journey!

I was losing it, man. I was boxed in on all sides by tractor trailers, and some unknown claustrophobia was starting to bubble up. Ya know? I felt trapped, was agitated about being so late, and moving toward a full freakout. But I was able to maintain, somehow.

I ordered my lunch over the phone, with Steve acting as the intermediary between me and the waitress. I wanted him to just hand her the phone, but he played the delicious home cookin’ middleman. And, thankfully, it didn’t take a full 27 minutes to get there. It probably took between 15 and 20, and they were bringing our food out as I angrily entered the scene.

So, we had a rushed lunch. Grrr… I still needed to arrive at work at a reasonable time. It certainly wouldn’t be my scheduled start time of 2, but I had a management meeting at 3, and definitely needed to arrive before then. So, we were rifling down our meals and didn’t get to talk as much as I’d hoped. It was highly unsatisfying, the whole experience.

But Steve had made a purchase of the West Virginia craft beer I love — Devil Anse IPA — and I paid him for that and we made the transfer from his trunk to mine. Plus, he gave me a can of a “black IPA” made by the same company. It’s called Mothman. I’ll be testing that one out on Saturday. Oh yeah.

So, at least I got a shitload of fantastic, not-available-in-Pennsylvania beer out of the deal. Steve didn’t get much, unfortunately. He just hung around a Cracker Barrel for half the day, waiting on my husky ass to arrive. I feel kinda bad about that.

And by the way, I thought I’d get fancy with it and take backroads to work from there. But they were all messed up too. I arrived at the 3 o’clock meeting about 10 minutes late. I mean, this traffic jam — created by road construction I heard — was absolutely BIBLICAL in nature. In fact, the cashier at the restaurant asked if I was traveling southbound. When I told her I was, she said, “Don’t do it. Just go home.” I wanted to call my boss and tell her that Betty at the Barrel advised me not to report for work today but suspected the company wouldn’t recognize Betty’s authority.

I don’t really have a question, I guess you guys can report on the worst traffic jams you’ve encountered. I’ve talked about one in California years ago, when people were out of their cars cooking burgers on grills and passing Frisbee, etc. Toney was about to snap during that one. It was horrific. What do you have on this subject, anything? Use the comments section.

And before I call it a day here, I’ll link to the Thursday episode of the podcast, right here. It’s definitely the weirdest one so far. I had several topics I wanted to discuss in it. But one awkward subject dominated. The title: If I Want To Wear Chinese Underwear, That’s My Business! And here’s the description:

This is a weird one, be forewarned! I discuss, at length, the underwear crisis I experienced about five years ago, and my ongoing struggle in the “underwear realm.” And near the end, I tell you about the Whistle Dick of the Week, who I encountered while visiting a Guitar Center with my son. I hope you enjoy it! Pass the beer nuts.

And that’ll do it for today, my friends. If you have anything on hellacious traffic jams, bring us up to date on it. And I’ll see you guys again on Monday.

Have the great weekend!

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