Power walking on Las Vegas streets has become a little noticed fad in the City of Sin especially by brightly dressed older couples and drunken tourists who really have to pee and are worried about making it to a restroom.
It’s the beginning of the ‘’’uhhh warm season in this season and therefore the beginning of the crazy season and what I like to call the season of the jogger. Joggers are everywhere you cant pass out or fall down without tripping over some preening, prancing princess in a $2,000 white velour jogging suit shaking her hands like Whinny the Pooh standing over a half empty honey pot as she jogs down a city street at 6:00 a.m. oblivious to the dangerous looking stranger staring at her from the shadows where he stumbled unnoticed by anyone. Well no one noticed except the 70-year-old drunken reprobate still wearing the same buzz cut and muscle shirt he wore the last time he was on the Strip in the City of Sin and JFK was romancing Marylyn Monroe and hair oil was still a convenience store standard and he was a Merchant Marine stud and the most expensive pro on the boulevard cost less than a good ham does today.
Does anybody know what the bag limit is on overdressed over, groomed joggers is these days I wouldn’t want to get fined for nabbing to many of them to many of them on the way home from work. There are joggers everywhere you look these days. I even saw a Goth jogger, a heavy metal jogger and a young tough looking power walker, although they may have been a showgirl and a stripper who were late for work and gambler running from his wife after staring at the stripper and showgirl on their way to work.
This week I talked with a co-worker about the glory days of Haight Ashbury and the glories of tripping the light fantastic acid. By tripping I he meant the kind of tripping where you see sounds and hear thoughts of nearby pets and long dead poets named Freddie J. ( Don’t ask me. My ambien makes me dream about other worlds and alternative realities and I don’t get near scary stuff like Lucy and the Sky with Dudley Moore. Okay I’m a nerd sue me… )
Apparently this veteran hippie, who now wears a suit and tie and has even less hair than I do said there was a way of soothing people who were on bad Lucy and the Sky with Diamonds acid trips. They would take the trippers outside at night and focus them on the moon. This seemed to calm them down and give them something positive to focus on. Of course some brilliant idiots decided the sun was a good thing to trip on and went blind goes the HA legend of the day.
The same guy who enjoys standing in the intersection of Flamingo and Eastern holding his sign is back again. I couldn’t read the sign this time but he was standing smack dab in the middle of the road scant feet from a four thousand pound SUV with a driver who was probably tried, hungry, horny and/or drunk or all four.
While I don’t care for the fact he was standing in the road for all kinds of reasons but you have to admire his delusional courage whether it was spawned by devotion or desperation because standing in the road in the City of Sin is a risky undertaking at best.
People will ran you over sometimes even if they see and almost always if they don’t.
Such is life in the city of sin.
In closing I would like to make a fond wish for someone I saw in a Las Vegas casino today. I hope the outfit you were wearing was some kind statement, because seriously dude, red plaid and a slouched red beret isn’t cool on a man with white hair unless he is somehow reliving the glory days with the 82nd Airborne or as a roadie with Nirvana.
The city was filled with hard
No Pedestrians with floating detached heads a very common sign in Las Vegas
No not really…..Photo RM Hopper
drinking pool players, biker babes, and hordes and hordes of tourist making fools of themselves posing for pictures in front of fake clowns, giant lion statues, phony tropical islands, fake cityscapes and giant modern art sculptures.
Such is Life in the City of Sin
Til’ Next Week take care