Las Vegas, Part 3: Can You Hear Me Now?

On our second day in Vegas, one of our entourage loses her phone at the casino. This in and of itself is a potential catastrophe, but it is actually a nuclear-level emergency. Our venue tickets are on that phone. Not just one venue -- but three: the wax museum, the gondola ride, and The Sphere.

There are several positives here. Number one, we are still in the same casino where the phone went missing. Two, we discover that we have lost the device within twenty minutes of its disappearance. Three, the phone's owner only plays Wizard of Oz slot machines, and she had been sitting at two in this particular casino.

We check out the first and most recent slot machine, but the phone is not there. As we work our way back toward the casino entrance and, perhaps, some help, we try and retrace our steps to the first slot machine, ringing the lost phone as we go. Suddenly, the phone of the woman's sister starts to ring. The conversation goes something like this:

Did you just call me? I just got a call from K's phone, but it wasn't K!

Who called you? Did you get the number? Oh, wait. It was K's phone. Did they say where they were?

Aren't you in Las Vegas? Why is someone calling from her phone?

Hang up. We're calling the phone again. Hello? Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? Is anyone there?

I'm tempted to yell out, "Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret!" 

It takes us about forty-five seconds to realize that no one can figure out who is calling to nor from the missing phone because the actual phone's owner has hearing aids in her ears. Relatives are calling her phone, and she can hear people talking but no one can hear her nor can they hear each other because, surprise, she has virtual ears on the conversations but no microphone. The microphone is in the hands of the mystery woman holding the actual phone.

There is some fumbling and then the mad pulling of hearing aids from ears. Finally, our call goes through to the person holding the phone, and communication can be had. It turns out that the cellphone has been picked up by a partially inebriated woman and her dour chum, and they are sitting at the first slot machine hoping that the phone's owner might return so they can get on with their lives.

We are all relieved that the phone is back in our hands, mostly because we don't want K without communication, but also because we really, really want to go to the other venues we have scheduled. For the rest of the afternoon, we tease our companion: Do you have your phone? Should we call you?

It gives new and multiple meanings to the phone ad, "Can you hear me now?" Thank Elvis, the answer is YES.

VEGAS ADVENTURE, Part 2

Day Two in Las Vegas, and we should be exhausted after all of the walking and traveling we did yesterday, but, of course, we are not. Up early, we place an order at the 24-hour Starbucks, which just happens to be at the bottom of our hotel's elevator, and bring coffee and breakfast back to our room. 

I promptly drop my (outrageously expensive Las Vegas) iced coffee between the bed and the night table. By the grace of Elvis's ghost, my coffee lands upright against the bed frame base, and I merely splash a strange tannish stain along the side of my sheets. Coffee is saved! It's going to be a good day.

Today's itinerary has three activities: wax museum, gondola ride, and The Sphere. Since we are already up and moving, we decide to squish one more excursion into the mix: The Shark Reef and Aquarium at Mandalay Bay. One internet search, four online tickets, and an Uber ride later, we are at the casino, working our way through to the aquarium so we can arrive the moment the doors open. This plan is key since multiple school groups are queued up to enter as we are exiting after an hour or so touring through the place. We spend the most time watching the sharks swim over, under, and all around us as we walk through.

Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum is cool. (It's definitely not London cool, but I've only seen pictures of that one, and this museum is in the waxy flesh.) At first I am intimidated by the fact that the realistic figures are just out there, available to walk up to without so much as anyone to stop us. It takes me a moment to understand that we can wrap our arms around the statues if we so want. We pose and get cheeky with famous "people" and are generally trying to behave ourselves, until ... 

Until we encounter Miley Cyrus on the wrecking ball. 

In front of Miley is a life-sized wrecking ball with a rubber mat surrounding it. Yes, folks, people can pose on the wrecking ball. So, of course, that is exactly what we do. One middling lady and three seniors, all taking turns having our Wrecking Ball Moment. We heft each other as needed because these old hips don't lie like they used to, but no one needs an ambulance, and no bones are broken during our photoshoot. 

We goof around with Elvis, grab The Rock, wave to Snoop Dog, pose with Evel, and take silly pictures with celebrities we will never meet. We comment on how unexpected the heights of some of them are, from ridiculously Tupac-small in stature to RuPaul-willowy. Wayne Newton next to Tom Jones is like looking at the Jolly Green Giant with a Hobbit. On our way back to the hotel, we take a quick gondola ride and are serenaded by the only true Italian gondolier of the bunch. 

We have tickets to the early show at The Sphere, a giant globe that seats 20,000 people and provides what they call a 5-D experience. The climb to our seats requires mountaineering equipment and mountain-goat nerves of steel. The pitch of the place is dizzying. After the initial panic between my daughter and me that perhaps we have made the biggest mistake of our lives coming here due to our shared anxiety, we hang on to each other for dear life through the hour-plus Wizard of Oz experience. It's a fun show, but it is not for those with visual vertigo. We are glad that we went, but it's probably a one-and-done. I recommend it for an experience, but I could never get a job inside the theater itself.

The evening ends early, as two of our companions have one more day of gambling and Vegas shenanigans planned, while my daughter and I prep for our Grand Canyon Experience. It's cold in Vegas -- we've brought the New England weather with us, and it may well follow us to Arizona, but we have long sleeves, sweaters, sweatshirts, and vests. We are going to the Canyon, and even Mother Nature cannot stop us.

Can she?

VIVA LAS VEGAS, DAY #1

LAS VEGAS -- Day #1 

Heading to Las Vegas with my daughter and two other women, I have to research four things ahead of time. The most important is our side trip to the West Rim of the Grand Canyon (what's worth the money and what isn't). The second is the weather (we bring New England temperatures and snow with us). The third is where not to be caught walking (north of Old Vegas around the Neon Boneyard, which is also the last monorail stop). The fourth is how to gamble at the slot machines.

Yes, I am heading to Las Vegas and have never gambled beyond friendly card games of Poker, Whist, and 45's (a card game brought to the Merrimack Valley by Irish immigrants). I'm still not sure how the whole thing works, but I do win $18 for the few minutes that I gave it a try.

The Vegas airport is wildly entertaining. We could easily spend a day or two just in this place. It has shops and slot machines and restaurants and a whole lot to see and do. We Uber over to the hotel, and the first sight pointed out to us is the scene of Tupac Shakur's murder. Since it happened in a car-to-car shooting, there is a memorial utility pole at the corner of Flamingo Road and Koval Lane. It actually sets the bar pretty high for us.

We drop our luggage and decide to go off exploring. This involves hitting several casinos. My daughter and I are more into seeing sights, like places where The Hangover was filmed and just taking in the grandeur or Caesar's Palace, Paris Las Vegas, The Venetian, and the Bellagio's fountains, which are not running because of the winds. (Yes, we bring with us cold temperatures, high winds, and snow.) We even sneak into Hell's Kitchen. Our co-travelers mainly play the slots and win a little money. It's the Lunar New Year, and the hotels are doing it right -- there's a lot to see, but the places are mob scenes of tourists like us.

We notice that the ashtrays, which are everywhere because smoking is not only encouraged but required, are plastic at our hotel casino but glass everywhere else. We also notice that we need water ... badly. The relative humidity around here is about fifteen percent, a far cry from what we are used to, plus all of the smoke is enough to choke a freaking camel. Water, apparently, is a hot commodity at around $8 a bottle. We spend it. It's worth it.

We check in to the hotel by standing in a long line. Afterwards, we locate the automated check-in, but, by now, my daughter and I have been put through the VIP lane, which is a great start. Our friends' window on the ninth floor faces The Sphere, and our window on the twelfth floor faces the Hard Rock Hotel construction site. Both views are actually fascinating.

After dinner, we decide to visit the Neon Boneyard. We could take the monorail and walk to it, but I remember what I found out about that last stop, the one we would be using, so we Uber over. The Uber driver apparently believes he is Mario Andretti and flies across multiple lanes of traffic while doing 84 in a 55. Yes, I looked over his shoulder to see the speedometer. As we near the Neon Boneyard, the Uber driver does caution us against walking around the neighborhood. Actually, he says to make sure we get an Uber right from the exact spot he left us and not to wander. Solid advice since we have no idea where we are, anyway.

We pass Old Vegas, all lit up, and finally feel like we have our bearings back when we see The Sphere, which is tomorrow evenings' adventure. It will be hard to beat Tupac's utility pole, but we are darn well going to give it a try while we're here.