So Debra and I don't always agree on music...one of the pitfalls of being married to a music snob (Debra can be so pretentious about it, I mean honestly) (while perfectly apparent to those who know us, I do feel beholden to point out that was a joke). One we do agree on is Silk Sonic. Debra was introduced to Bruno Mars by his Superbowl halftime shows, which were admittedly really well done. The guy is a showman, for sure, and while his pop music is neither objectionable nor my particular cup of tea, he has some good funky stuff...it's obvious he grew up listening to good music. So he recently teamed up with a guy named Anderson .Paak (the period prefix is there for some reason, I dunno) to form a supergroup named "Silk Sonic" which is basically a giant 70s throwback to soul, funk, and disco of the era, with some modern touches...all formed under the protective auspices of Bootsy Collins, who named the group, MCs the album, and sort of presides over the album (and live show) like a kind of benevolent funk deity. The album has been on regular rotation to the eventual annoyance of Peter. Instead of touring they took up a residency in Las Vegas for a couple months.
And so, a day after school ends, here we are:
We had dropped the kids off with their aunt and uncle for the weekend. Our flight was significantly delayed due to issues out of LaGuardia, but we got on eventually. A family sat across from us that I conjectured was Mormon; trying out my Mormon-radar, they had 6 (six!) small children, all blonde, Nevada having a high Mormon population, the kids were very well behaved...and most tellingly of all, the father, after directing his kids to sit on a bench near security in the airport, saw the sign saying it was for people to put their shoes on after security, and reversed course. Most people would be like, ahh, that doesn't apply to me, we're the last flight of the day and security is shutting down, surely I can bend the rules. But this dude was like, follow the rules even when no ones watching, just total Mormon awesomeness. Wanted to high five him. No I'm not Mormon but I am a rule follower for sure.
But then Debra saw the mom order a Diet Coke on the flight, so maybe, maybe not.
Speaking of which, my usual ploy to get a whole can to myself failed on both flights. Maybe they've caught on. Just got the little half-glass of tonic water...in the past it was such an odd thing to order (at least without gin or vodka) that they gave me the whole can. I spent some time trying to get a good photo of the sunset (which seemed to take forever since we were flying towards it...I wondered how fast the plane would have to go to see the sun rise in the west) and this is as good as I got.
Our landing was a bit turbulent and Debra left nail marks in my leg, I'm sure, but we got down. We were traveling light with just a couple backpacks...I'm not used to not checking baggage but it was nice.
And yeah...we were definitely in Vegas. Even in the airport, you can't go 10 feet without dodging these blinky, noisy terminals.
We had discussed several methods of getting from the airport to the Strip...we weren't renting a car. Uber seemed easy (and probably was) but maybe expensive. We considered walking, although it is not set up to be friendly to walking, and takes you through some moderately dodgy areas. Ultimately our plan that we executed on was to take the public bus from the airport up to a stop by the convention center, which worked out fairly well. Felt like the people getting on the bus sure weren't tourists...one guy looked like a sushi chef (because of his uniform) getting off his shift.
Once off the bus we were near a monorail station. I thought that'd be a nice option because, well, it's a monorail dangit. It's Disneyish.
Incoming southbound monorail...
The monorail took us onto the actual Strip and to our hotel. Which...I hate to say it...was Harrahs. A name familiar to Kansas Citians since we have our version of it plopped up against the shores of the Missouri River, and the reason we picked it was...it was cheap (and I am nothing if not a cheap bastard) and it was close enough to the Dolby Live Theatre. But there was something so sad and awful about it. The hotel rooms themselves were nice, but it's a bit like other hotels at least try harder to hide the stale scent of cigarettes and desperation with fancy themes or decorations, whereas Harrahs sort of says, you're not fooling us, you're not fooling yourself. Just sit down and pull the lever, that's what you're here for.
We considered doing the giant Ferris wheel thing, but it was getting late, and the whole place was a complete zoo...we just wanted to eat and retreat to our room. We walked over to the adjoining Linq hotel where they had a promenade (imagine Main Street at Disneyland, but everyone is shitfaced).
Our destination...In-N-Out.
Which was, itself, also a bit of a zoo. Debra waited outside, I was number 65 and they were calling orders in the 20s...but eventually they got to us, we got our food, and retired to the hotel room to eat and sleep.
Debra pointed out a familiar sight...since the early days of the pandemic we've been buying bulk commercial toilet paper which, honestly, is just easier to manage than regularly buying it from grocery stores, and a bit cheaper. They were using the same brand as us. (Editor: How is this interesting enough to take a picture of, let alone include in the blog? I ask you!)
Next morning we got up reasonably early, and noted the party was still going full bore downstairs on the floor, if you call that a party...I mean I like to imagine that maybe at 4:30am they maybe turn off the crappy music for a half hour for everyone's sanity, but that's quite unlikely. One of the more annoying things about these places is how difficult it is to get anywhere without being directed through the casino floor, and all of the acrid clouds of sad and smoke...it got to the point that seeing actual daylight felt amazing, like we were those Thai kids in the cave finally making it out to safety. We went to get some food from the food court and then headed outdoors, where we were kind of surprised to find absolutely zero seating anywhere. We eventually found a spot outside of the McDonalds. Debra, not wanting to be loiterers, went in to buy something so we could be justified sitting out there.
Apparently she bought several things, but a bit of a brouhaha ensued where an exceptionally, almost-falling-down drunk guy, possibly Australian (but I repeat myself), was, well, not quite belligerent, but getting in everyone's faces WAY too close and coughing. Meanwhile a guy, probably homeless, sat himself down at my table, outside, without a word. Just decided to join me I guess...a woman came up and gave him several items of food...seemingly unprompted and unrelated to him. Debra got to the point of actually fearing a run-in with the completely sozzled Aussie (this was at 8am, mind you...it takes WORK to be that drunk for that long, I'm not even mad, I'm impressed) and decided to just leave...abandoning her food, which likely would go to one of the relatively aggressive panhandlers. Debra did not enjoy the experience!
Once I convinced her to venture outside of our hotel room again, which took a bit of doing, we headed north to the Venetian, which was basically a giant shopping mall. While Harrahs basically caters to the depressing-lower-middle-class-just-here-to-gamble-and-party crowd, the Venetian seems to be for people who like shopping a LOT more than we do.
I mean, it's kind of neat, in a Disney way. Vegas (more specifically the Strip...I have nothing against the rest of the town where actual normal people live, it's probably quite lovely) is basically the corrupted juvenile delinquent older brother of a Disney park.
They had singing gondoliers all throughout in the fake canals. Although why pay these guys to sing when you have the constant MMMchissMMMchiss background electronic music/noise going on.
Ahh, a Walgreens! We got some sunscreen and chapstick, and more importantly, a sense of normalcy that otherwise we'd been lacking.
From the pictures I had thought the food court at the Venetian was actually outside, but it is all indoors with a false sky ceiling. We were headed there for lunch.
Ah yes, macarons...the only cookie to make my daughter cry. We went to a French cafe in KC and Gretchen, bewitched by the pretty cookies, was so eager to try them...and so massively disappointed in the tasteless, bland cookies that she broke down in tears.
We had lunch at the Curry Pot, a little walkup Indian place, where we got an order of butter chicken and a masala dosa. Then headed back to our room...we stopped by the pool to check out how busy it was...and it was way too busy for our preference so we ended up just spending the rest of the afternoon watching TV or napping.
WHOOP WHOOP
In the evening we opted to repeat our visit to the food court at the Venetian because it had lots of little counter service places that seemed interesting. We were originally going to go to a Korean BBQ spot but we were in the mood for something simple and easy. Debra got a Vietnamese shrimp noodle dish, and I went to the Filipino place and got several things to try...lumpia, chicken empanada, and pancit palabok. The lumpia were good, not too distinct from other regional egg or spring rolls...the empanada was good (with a surprisingly sweet crust) but very mild, and the pancit was kind of surprisingly bland, so I didn't finish that.
Time for the concert. I'M SORRY IT'S CALLED STYLE
We monorail'ed down to the MGM stop, where we had to walk apparently 7 miles through the MGM Grand casino before we could see daylight and cross the Boulevard over to where the Dolby Live theatre was. MGM Grand was definitely a bit more upscale than Harrahs, but that's kind of like comparing a high class [to use Graham Chapman's phrase, "naughty lady of the night"] to a cheap one...they're still, you know. Anyway, we got to the theatre eventually...the whole reason for this entire trip, so it felt good to get to that point.
Now, at this concert one of the things is, Because What Happens In Vegas Stays In Vegas, they made everyone lock their phones away in a little pouch...no pictures, no recording, nothing. So with that in mind, in lieu of what would have been my crappy Android phone snapshots, I'll just post some of their promotional pics that hint at what kinds of funky mayhem we were to enjoy.
The show was worth it. While I have a hard time saying it was the best concert I've ever attended...the music is great, don't get me wrong, and the band's musicianship is top notch...I am, as Debra will tell you, a bit of a pretentious sod about music and so I can think of other concerts that compete purely on the musical experience...but I will easily confess to it being the best -show- I've ever seen. Anderson Paak is definitely the funny guy to Bruno's straight man, and they made the entire show just a fun experience. The audience was a fun mix...young white girls who sang along with the Bruno Mars tunes they mixed in with the Silk Sonic mix, and then the older black family behind me who knew all of the soul tunes like Love's Train. I won't belabor it, but check out the album if you like 70s RnB, funk, and soul...and if you have the chance to go to the August shows in Vegas, it's worth enduring drunk Australians and the constant overhanging stench of cigarettes and broken dreams.
On the way back through the MGM Grand towards the monorail, a dude passed me and just said "...Bootsy!". My guy, that's why I'm wearing the shirt. HIT MEH! BOOTSY BABY
On the monorail headed back to our room, our quest at an end.
We originally had a 9pm flight the next day, which was going to be miserable...we consoled ourselves with the thought, earlier, that we could do all sorts of interesting fun things during the day, go swimming, see the sights, etc. But we had an option to do an early morning flight for a bit of an upgrade cost, and we snatched at it. And we were very happy to do so, having seen all of the Strip that we wanted to see. We attempted to retrace our steps with the monorail/bus route, but were horrified when we saw the monorail wouldn't start running til 7am. My earlier planning had been with the 9pm flight assumption, so we were stymied. We quickly pivoted and called an Uber, driven by a nice Indian Fijian immigrant, and we had a nice discussion with him on the short jaunt to the airport. Wheels up out of Harry Reid:
Western edge of the Grand Canyon...
Some snowcapped peaks in sourthern Colorado.
Finally back home and happy to be back in my own kitchen...got the supplies for carne asada and was able to cook that night:
Like I said...Las Vegas is not exactly our cup of tea, or cup of booze with a drowned cigarette in it, whatever the case, but the show was worth it. Hoping Silk Sonic keeps going and maybe next time, get Bootsy there in person!