I was always a big fan of the actor Richard Harris. Not only was the man a talented actor, portraying everyone from King Arthur to Dumbledore in his storied career, Harris was also a prodigious drinker. Toward the end of his life he’d quit drinking but he never lost the ability to tell a great drinking story. He truly embodies the BourbonAndVinyl ethos in much the same as Keith Richards.
I can still remember seeing Richard Harris tell the following story on the David Letterman show one late night, long ago. Richard was at home in England and his favorite football team (soccer team for the Americans) was playing a rival team. He told his wife he was going down to the pub to watch the game. It was a contentious game but fortunately for Harris, his team won. Some people he’d just met at the pub suggested they abscond off to Ireland for the weekend, as that’s where their team was playing next. Harris readily agreed and was gone for over five days, drinking with strangers and attending the football game. When he returned home, he paused at the door, unsure what to tell his wife, he hadn’t called her during his entire absence. When the door flew open and he saw his understandably enraged wife, before she could get a word in, he threw up his hands and smiled, “Don’t pay the ransom, I’ve escaped!” To this day, both the Rock Chick and I use that line if we’re “on the late side…”
So to all of you faithful B&V readers who have noticed I haven’t posted anything in a while, Don’t Pay the Ransom, I escaped… Some of you may have suspected my lack of posting was due to our slow music news this year so far but no, I just took the wife for a long overdue holiday to points way out west. I had never spent any time tooling around the great American Southwest and now that I have, I can’t wait to return. It was a great Kerouac drive through big skies, deserts and mountains. We got back late last night. The vacation was great, but unfortunately it was preceded, for me at least, by five days at a work conference in Las Vegas that I was forced to attend by my corporate overlords…Work, what are you gonna do?
When I was young, work travel seemed so exotic. Conferences in Vegas for a week sounded cool. As usual, my young mind was misguided. First and foremost, I’m just not a gambler. Getting out of bed every morning is enough of a gamble for me. Heaven knows what risks I unwittingly take each day. Most of my work travel ends up being the same no matter what city I’m in. I spend most my time sitting in a conference room or in Vegas, a ballroom converted into a classroom. I never see the sun… I find it very difficult to sit in a room all day and listen to presenters… it makes me wonder how I got through high school. I wear uncomfortable shoes all day and trudge through the labyrinth of a giant casino back and forth from my room to the class room for nine hours. I usually never leave the casino… I start referring to it as “Biosphere.” If someone suggests an “off-campus” exploration, my usual response is, in a shocked and somewhat fearful tone, “What, and leave Biosphere? How will we survive?”
Of course, other than gambling, Vegas holds additional charms for people, I guess. The food and the drinking there, which are two of my favorite things, are amazingly expensive. I remember my Sainted Grandmother, who loved to gamble, telling me stories of cheap food and free drinks in Vegas. She used to make my aunt sit in the room and watch TV while she and Granddad gambled into the night… I’m glad no one called Social Services. I took the Rock Chick out to dinner while we were in Sin City and the bill looked like a mortgage payment. I had one Blanton’s, neat, and it was 25 bucks. Too rich for me. Also, it’s such a dry climate out there, I find myself consuming inhuman amounts of water and requiring vast quantities of hand lotion.
Beyond that, Vegas, of course, also holds the more…physical pleasures. But that’s never been my thing. I was always the one in the strip joint who said to the stripper, “Who hurt you? Are you ok? When was the last time you spoke to your parents.” It was just never my scene. In Vegas, they’ve turned that vibe up to 11. Many years ago, right after marrying the Rock Chick, when I had first become a manager, I was in the Venetian. I was merely having a beer at one of the central bars. I noticed a woman dressed in a tube top waving at me from across the bar and the guy I was talking to, who worked for me at the time, inexplicably waved back. The next thing I knew this woman was standing in front of me, demanding a gin and tonic. The idiot who’d waved her over had disappeared into a bank of slot machines, I could only see his eyes peeking over one of the neon, one-armed bandits. The bar was full of my coworkers… a hush fell over the bar and all heads turned… I felt like a bright spotlight was on me. My boss was a really committed religious guy and I knew this would not go over well.
At the same time, I wanted to treat this woman with all the dignity I’d treat anybody with. I compliantly bought the drink and made stilted small talk. The longer the conversation went on, the more I was gripped with what Hunter S Thompson called, The Fear. I realized I had to bring this conversation to an end. I asked, in a breezy manner, trying not to reveal how unnerved I was by all of this, “So, what do you do in here in Vegas, Destiny?” Jeez, Destiny? She started to respond with a long answer about going out to dinner and dancing. “No, Destiny, I mean, what do you do for a living?” And to make my point clear, I added, “Like, are you in Real Estate?” Again, I was trying to maintain everybody’s dignity… well except for the moron hiding behind the slot machine who I was considering firing. Destiny smiled and gave me perhaps the wittiest come back I’d ever heard…”Well, you could say I’m in real estate. I rent small spaces for really short periods of time.” She smiled seductively. I smiled despite myself. I’ve always respected wit. I held up my left hand, with my wedding ring, and smiled back, “Sorry, I don’t rent, I own.” Thankfully Destiny flitted off to her own destiny after that… Vegas…I hope that woman is ok.
So as I schlepped around Vegas all last week, to take my mind off my suffering, I started to compile a play list to listen to while I walked through the maze of the casino. This is my Gambling/Vegas playlist that helped me get through the long harrowing week of noise, presentations and Vegas.
- Frank Sinatra, “Luck Be a Lady” – Bugsy Siegel gets all the credit for building Vegas… B&V knows that it was really Sinatra who built Vegas… no matter how nefarious his connections were.
- Elvis Presley, “Viva Las Vegas” – Sinatra built Vegas, but the King painted it gold.
- AC/DC, “Sin City” – AC/DC bring the darker aspects of Vegas to life in this overlooked gem.
- Bob Seger, “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man” – I prefer the live version. I also prefer the rambling to the gambling… but that’s me.
- The Clash, “The Card Cheat” – I’m sure there was a lot of this going on out there…
- Bruce Springsteen, “Roll of the Dice” – The Rock Chick and I stood by a craps table for forty-give minutes and I still don’t get it.
- Rod Stewart, “Lady Luck” – Great gambling tune… catch Rod at Caesar’s if you can.
- Motley Crue, “Girls Girls Girls” – This one goes out to Destiny, wherever life took her.
- April Wine, “Roller” – “She’s a high roller baby…” Plenty of those in Vegas last week… mostly Chinese these days.
- The Rolling Stones, “Tumbling Dice” – “Low down gamblers, cheating like I don’t know how…”
- Airbourne, “Blackjack” – Still the only game in Vegas I understand.
- Social Distortion, “Winners and Losers” – Judging by the size of the casinos, I think I know whose winning.
- Santana, “Winning” – I needed a positive vibe, and this sunny little song helped.
- Mick Jagger, “Lucky In Love” – I may not win at the tables, but the Rock Chick is proof I’m a lucky guy.
- Gram Parsons, “Ooh Las Vegas” – Great song. If you’ve never heard this one, I implore you, check out Gram’s solo work.
- The Rolling Stones, “Casino Boogie” – I merely wanted to boogie out of the casino, but again, that’s me.
- Scorpions, “Passion Rules the Game” – Another great gambler’s tune. These guys are pirates at heart…
- Sheryl Crow, “Leaving Las Vegas” – I was never happier to be leaving… what a good idea.
Thanks for reading and hanging with me in my absence. Cheers!