Don't act koi with me!

One of the attractions at the Flamingo Hotel in Las Vegas is its Koi pond. Seriously. I like fish as much as anybody, but these guys just look like big goldfish to me.

Leaving Las Vegas.

Lady Di and I invaded Las Vegas last week. Las Vegas is WAY different from the rural lowcountry of South Carolina, as you might imagine. The Boro is in the Southeast, with a moderate amount of rain and plenty of pine and oak trees. Blue laws prohibit lots of stuff that Palmetto State denizens deem immoral, like gambling, drinking on Sundays and other, ahem... "unseemly" activities. What's the first thing we saw after we landed in Nevada? Gambling machines aplenty.

The Boro is pretty flat and plenty verdant; unlike the desert mountains of Nevada.

But it's the man-made mountains that people come to Vegas to see. This was the view out of our room. Not too shabby!


This is one side of The Flamingo hotel, where we stayed. Only Las Vegas could make Donny and Marie Osmond cool! There were lots of shows throughout the town. We thought about seeing Cher, but at $95 a pop to sit in the cheap seats, we passed (I'm actually waiting for a show with her and her impersonators: Cher and Cher alike).

Did we gamble? Well, yeah, a little. High rollers we were not. Counting our sports-related betting, Diane lost about twenty bucks; I probably made about three. Still, with the four or five free drinks we got over the week, we didn't do too badly.


You mighta heard about the buffets in Las Vegas. Lady Di is no fan of the genre, because you always end up over-eating. I AM a fan, and since Diane was in seminars for a few of the days, well... Suffice it to say, I desperately have to get back to the gym. After a nosh, it was off to see The Strip.



The acres of excess were staggering to note. Statutes of Liberty, Eiffel Towers, Huge MnMs. The money, time and talent that went into this place- and the cost to maintain it- is mind-boggling.




My favorite activity just about anywhere I go is watching people. Outside of eating, gambling and going to shows, the top activity in Vegas has to be taking pictures. I wonder if anybody took a picture of me, taking this picture? It wasn't all just happy tourists, though. Make no mistake about it: the House almost always wins. Luck is not always a lady.

This guy said he lost his job and was trying to get money to find work in Denver. He didn't mind if I took his picture, as long as I got the sign, too.
These guys were everywhere, shoving pamphlets at you, advertising the availability of another of Las Vegas' services that you won't find so patently present almost anywhere else. They don't call it Sin City for nothing. He let me take his picture if I took a pamphlet. Don't worry, I didn't call the number!



We left The Strip, and headed for Old Las Vegas. We rode the bus with a few of Diane's convention companions, and saw some of the areas of Sin City that are a little less Chamber of Commerce ready. Old Las Vegas was lots of fun. Here are some pics:








One of our best (and cheapest) meals was at a diner in Old Las Vegas. I had a meatloaf and mashed potato sandwich, and Diane had the turkey dinner. We split a slice of cherry pie. Janet took good care of us.


Our last night in Las Vegas, we met up with old buddy, David Stitt, who's lived in the Vegas suburbs for a few months now.

The guacamole was impressively presented and right tasty (but not as good as either AndyMan's or Lady Di's).


For all the lights and sights, this was our favorite spot: a bench in the Flamingo courtyard.


And here we are together. "Awww", huh?

I did not bet on baseball.

Okay, that's not, precisely speaking, true. In fairness to me, it wasn't true when Pete Rose said it either. It is true that I didn't bet on any Palmetto State games. Wish I had: both the Gamecocks and the Clemson Tigers won their games in the College World Series. Instead, I bet on the Seminoles to beat TCU. I was feeling pretty good until the 8th inning, when, well... I don't wanna talk about it. Lady Di likewise threw her money in the street in her wager that the Detroit Tigers would whip the New York Mets. At least the Seminoles took the Gators down before heading back home to Tallahassee.

Viva Las Vegas

I've tagged along with Lady Di to Sin City, as she attends a National Area Health Organizations conference. The irony of having a convention of people dedicated to improving health in a place where unhealthy behaviors- like drinking, smoking, over-eating, and, oh, I don't know, gambling?- are encouraged is not lost on my intended. Still, it IS fun. Right, Elvis?

Human Billboards, Part One

You gotta love a democracy. Unlike systems based on merit, money, or religion, democracy is supposed to be "rule by the people". You can be dumb as a rock, but you still get to speak your mind. Consequently, I get to post blog stuff about things like dogs, food, and other serious stuff. Mostly what's on my mind is pretty much nothing. I've discovered in my saunter through life that "mindless" is pretty common. Tee-shirts seem to be the medium of choice for "mindless". I saw a "I like a good dump" tee-shirt today. I hope that it was a recycling center pun, but I was kind of afraid to ask the dude.

The Chipmunks.

We don't have chipmunks in the Lowcountry of South Carolina. I haven't seen any, anyway. They look plenty cute to me; but my more knowledgeable neighbors up in Michigan know chipmunks pretty well, and they tell me chipmunks are T-R-O-U-B-L-E. "They eat the flower bulbs", says Norb Esper, moderately famous spouse of Lady Di's sister, Sue.
I saw this little guy holding court at Sue and Norb's. Norb eased out an air-rifle. "I got something for you, Punk" (well, Norb didn't actually say that, but I could tell he was thinking it). Let me tell you: those suckers are fast. Quicker than you could say "Jack Robinson", the diminutive rodent had taken it on the lam. Gone, baby, gone. I'm pretty sure I saw the little fellow flip Norb the bird as he left.

Graduations, Toilets, and Uncle Jim's Crown.

Lady Di and I just returned from the Great Lakes State. As my brother (quoting Samuel L. Jackson's hitman character in "Pulp Fiction") would say, "it was a stone groove". I love seeing Diane's family. They are a big, Mid-Western, close-knit, Catholic crowd. Diane and her sibs' parents were a mix of Irish, German and French Canadian descent, and brothers and sisters, and their children, wear their heritage well.

My brother, the Amazing AndyMan, and I have cobbled together a nice family between our few remaining blood relatives and our "adopted families" (I'm looking at you, Baggetts). We've been to a couple of family reunions in our lives, and we enjoy getting together with each other and with Uncle Bob and Aunt Maggie and cousins Bill and John; but, really, we don't know anything about family get-togethers compared to the Hoover/Marentette clan! High school graduation party? For us, that meant a trip to Ben T. Davis Municipal Beach to see what was shaking. For Caitlin, Megan (and, next month, Kelly), graduation means scores of friends and relatives travelling hundreds- or even thousands- of miles to honor the conquering heroines. These gatherings don't just happen: providing food, lodging, and time for everyone to meet and greet requires lots of logistical work. Planning- and Providence- are required for all this stuff to work out.

Planning was much in evidence between the couple of soirees laid out for the weekend. There'd be a cook-out at Sue and Norb's on Friday. Sister Sue shopped and chopped and cooked and cleaned. Sue also wanted a the bathroom redone for the do. Norb worked hard (as Norb always does) to get it together. Old tiles were removed; new tiles were set. An old showerhead was retired; a new showerhead was installed. A new toilet- a new throne, as it were- was the center-piece of the renewed loo. Things were bought. Things were cleaned. The work of weeks and months was complete: The Espers were ready. But Murphy- he of the "anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible time" rule- was in the house. Big time. Just hours before the cook-out, the toilet gurgled, burped, and generally caused an uproar. At seven a.m., the plumbing backed up. The guests were to arrive at four p.m. Norb prodded, poked, and snaked the lines from the basement to the roof (he even got me up there. Yikes!). The toilet un-bolted and removed, and the laundry room where the clean-out valve and drain were located was emptied and surveyed. He got it figured out, but neither of the two drain-snaking devices he had were up to the task. Ultimately, he called the big guns. Moto-rooter, or some such service, drove up at about one p.m., and yanked the offending item from the line: a wet-towelette. Sometime earlier, a baby's bottom or a bathroom sink shone just a bit brighter, but at a terrible cost. Still, the pooper-rooter, or whatever the service's name, had done its job. The clean-up then ensued. Floors were mopped; walls and appliances wiped. Norb improvised a drainage grate to replace the corroded one that didn't survive the operation, and the laundry drier put back into place. Toilet seal-wax was set, and the throne replaced and bolted back down. All of it done with about two minutes to spare before the guests began to arrive. The cook-out was a success, with most of the crowd none-the-wiser of the epic journey that immediately preceded the fete.

Now, on to Saturday...


The brothers and sisters (Sue and Norb and their kids, Eric, Jeff and Amy; Mark (all the way from Seattle with his children, Markie and Xochilt); Lady Di; and Greg (with his bride, Kathe, and their kids, Kelly and Mitchell), were there for Jenny and her beautiful twin graduates (Jenny and John's other daughter, Lauren, will be graduating next year). Sister Andrea had to appear by phone, but she'll be there in the flesh next month for Kelly's party. The remaining male member of the previous generation, Uncle Jim, came from Colorado to be there. As the sibs' oldest uncle, Jim would be the Patriarch. See? He even has a crown.

The party was a great success. There were lots of people, there was plenty of delicious food, and ample adult refreshments for the crowd. Jenny and John put together a wonderful party for their gals. And just look at the cakes!



Here's Uncle Jim taking a picture of the brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews (with a couple of other relatives sneaking in).

It was a lot of fun. Thanks, y'all!

Plague of Frogs.

God gave Moses and Aaron some interesting plagues to scare some sense into the Egyptians: Blood in the water, boils, locusts, hail, darkness, and even mosquitoes and gadflies. My favorite, though, is the plague of the frogs. If you'll check your Bible at Exodus, Chapter 7, verses 26-29. I'll wait... What? Your King James or New International Version stops at verse 25? You can pick it up beginning in Chapter 8, if you want, or go get a New Jerusalem Bible. Mom made sure I had lots of resources in my Bible study, including the Jerusalem Bible and the Apocrypha. Here's what you missed:

"26 Then Yahweh said to Moses, 'Go to Pharaoh and say to him, "Yahweh says this: Let my people go and worship me.
27 If you refuse to let them go, I shall strike your whole territory with frogs.
28 The River will swarm with frogs; they will make their way into your palace, into your bedroom, onto your bed, into the houses of your officials and subjects, into your ovens, into your kneading bowls.
29 The frogs will actually clamber onto you, onto your subjects and onto all your officials." '

Okay, now I get why "You'd better listen, or I'll send frogs" was a threat!