What I learned at 36-thousand feet

Going to Las Vegas is good for one’s health.
Seriously.

I never realized how heavy my wallet was until it was emptied on the casino floor.
There’s a spring in my step that wasn’t there before.

Odd the things a person thinks about while trapped and bored in a cramped plane for hours at 36-thousand feet.

Belly-button-check-sizedContemplating my navel didn’t work since leaning my head forward to look at it just ended up banging the seat in front of me.

That’s too bad because some say you can find truth there.

I suspect you have to be smoking something wild and wacky to make the best use of poking around in that area.

And since this was a non-smoking flight I needed to turn my attention elsewhere.

So I did a NSA wiretap of the drivel running circles in my mind.

Most people remember the article years ago, “Everything I need to know I learned in kindergarten”.

Great stuff – but it doesn’t cover everything.

One would think when one has gotten old enough one would know the answers to just about everything.
Or at least be delusional enough to think they know just about everything.

After all, being around long enough means most stuff has happened to you.
Maybe more than once if you’re stubborn like I am.

At least according to the wife.
I prefer to think of it as staying the course.

Since I like to share, here’s some of what I pondered while getting a numb butt coming home.

stop-drop-roll-sizedStop, drop, roll in school made me believe catching fire would be a frequent problem in my life.

The way your future wife looks the day you first meet her will always be your favorite.
You’ll probably never see it again.

The best time is when you’re so tired everything is funny.

A good laugh and a long nap are the best cure for anything.

Sometimes when I close my eyes I can’t see.

Ignoring something is one of the great ways to inner peace.

When I get headache I take 2 aspirin and keep away from children.
Just like the bottle says, along with a lot of other people.

Of all my wife’s relatives – I like me best.

There’s a fine line between humor and sarcasm.
Some think I’m being funny while I’m actually kicking their butt.

Sometimes I don’t understand a single word I’m writing.

What happens in Vegas…

…stays in Vegas.

That refers to money I suspect.

I certainly had no opportunity to test anything else out.

Well, that was an interesting trip.

No complaints really.
I’ll save my grumpiness for something important.

Voucher2I left a lot of money behind to keep company to all the other money I’ve left before.

I’m sure the Mayor would send a thank you note if I was somebody important.

The wife shopped everywhere and I was the designated taxi driver.

The Chevy Malibu is a junk car, by the way.

I came back with a lot of stuff for other people and dirty clothes for me.

Once again I promised anyone who would listen that I would finally try In-n-Out burger – and once again didn’t get to it.

I found two slot machines that pay off quite often but still managed to lose.

That’s why they call it gambling and not winning.

The food was great, especially if one stays out of the Main Street Café at the California Hotel.
Fine dining it is not.

I’m going back to bed.

Off to sin city

The bags are packed, the booby-traps are set in the house and the wife is chopping at the bit to get going to Vegas.

Video poker machines, hanging with her high school reunion friends and shopping have been a siren’s wail calling her for weeks.

big-small-bagI get the real small luggage bag so it can fit inside a big, empty bag.
That becomes my one check-in luggage.

Then she can fill that big bag with goodies scarfed from sales at all the malls.

In fact, on one trip she had to buy another big bag to bring home all the stuff she bought.

I will admit I helped add to it.

Slot-Machine-sizedWhen we finally get there she’ll pat me on the head and send me to the casino floor in the eternal search for riches.

Well, she would if she could.
She’s too short for that.

It’s called literary license…

She heads off and waits at the poker machine.
With me, she knows good things come to those who wait.

I’m a pretty lucky guy all things considered.
I usually win enough to pay for the trip.

Except that doesn’t happen.

Giving-MoneyWhenever my machine spits out a fairly large payoff, I walk it over and give it to her.
I try to be a good provider.

She gleefully takes it and stuffs it in her machine where she begins the slow but steady journey of losing it all.

By that time I’m back with some more payoff tickets.

Win, give, lose, repeat for 5 days.

I go home with hardly anything and she goes home with most of what she had to start with, plus the once empty big luggage bag stuffed with stuff.

Look up “good provider” in the dictionary and I suspect you’ll find a picture of me.
With money in my hand.

When we get home she’ll say, “Gimme the rest of the money to put back in the bank.”

Now I’m grumpy.

See you in a week.