Elvis has left the building; but Manilow remains.

It was quieter in Vegas.

And you called a magic number, and food arrived at your door.

The air was filled with many sounds; of bells, whistles, the hoots of the victorious and the groans of the failed.

And one ten minute monorail ride later, you were chatting with a Ferengi. And buying a lot of Trek souvenirs.

And admitting, not for the first time, that I am a geek.

There's nothing like Vegas in the early daylight hours: The sun rises, and like vampires, the people of the streets scatter to await the sunset. And I would walk the strip, marvelling at the architecture, wondering, not for the first time, what future generations will think of a small version of the NYC skyline, right next to the Green Pyramid of Giza. In the morning, nobody hassles you, or tries to hand you a pamphlet on where to find the loosest slots, or the loosest women....and the temperature is just right.

I was impressed with the Second City troupe. The writing was crisp, the performances equally so. A couple of the sketches were poignant, which is a nice color to comedy, and a couple of the blackout scenes so clever, I was the only one laughing. I WAS a little disappointed in the audience, though. The funniest things for this particular audience seemed to be flatulence, feminine hygiene products, and smoking dope. Real bargain basement crap.

And I am, admittedly, a comedy snob.....which another reason I rarely set foot in theatres anymore. Unless I am with company that can truly appreciate the nuances....

I was sad to see that the statue of Elvis has been removed from the Hilton lobby. Maybe Barry Manilow was jealous. I am also sad to see that we needed three artists to replace Celene Dion: Cher, Midler, and Elton John.

And I'm sad that Star Trek: The Experience is closing.

That being said.....

I turned forty seven on Monday.
The mirror didn't lie on that fateful morning.
The truth must be that I earned every line;
And paid for every small, broken vessel upon my cheek
With Russia's favorite export.
I cultivated every single grey follicle.
Forty Seven.
And I realize that there is more behind me than in front of me;
And I would trade some of it, cheaply.
But other things,
Most other things,
Not for the wide world.