Vegas

As I pen this entry, I am looking out of our 19th floor window at Venetian Resort onto lots of action on the Las Vegas strip. Treasure Island just finshed one of their booming shows, which happen every couple of hours, and our suite affords a great view.

We are here for an American Academy of Pediatrics Continuing Medical Education event. My wife, Becky is a pediatrician, and is here for annual training. I get to tag along and hang out in Vegas. I have also been assigned the title of "events coordinator" for the trip, and in this capacity, have arranged for us to see a couple of shows.

The strange thing about me and Vegas is that I don't really gamble here in the gaming mecca on Planet Earth. Its not that I have anthing particularly against gambling, I just have trouble being comfortable risking my money while on the steep portion of the learning curve. Being uncomfortable translates to an ordering of things that compete for my entertainment dollar. I prefer the shows to the casinos, and that's the bottom line. Why?

Probably because the odds of winning are low, and I am convinced that if I play long enough, I'll surely lose. If I don't gamble, believe that I come out ahead. And it all operates at a subconsious level anyway, because blinking slot machines, craps tables, and roullette wheels give me anxiety, if I give them more than a casual glance. This is my fourth trip to Vegas, and I havent even gambled a quarter. Enough of that.

Friday night – The first show, O is, according to the concierge at the Venetian, the most popular show in Vegas, and the toughest ticket in the city to get. I paid a ridiculous amount of money from a scalper to acquire the best “same day” seats that I could get for Becky and me. The full extent of our “ticket agent’s” effectiveness would become apparent later.

As I picked up the tickets, the concierge told me that these seats were row A – that, I knew. Becky noticed the ticket was imprinted with “wet seat” on the face. She made a call to the concierge, who assured us that a few sprinkles were all we could expect. As we arrived at the O Theatre at Bellagio, we were shown to our front row, center seats. They were a few feet from the swimming pool stage – close enough to smell the chlorine.

As the crimson curtain first billowed, then furled and vanished into the set, the water’s edge was approximately 8 feet distant. As always, Cirque’s props were boldly colorful and very otherworldly, drawing obvious inspiration from the work of surrealist Salvadore Dali. The unlit water was black to the eye, yet shimmered from the stage’s backlights. Smoke drifted in from stage left. A faceless, legless human torso hung in suspension a few yards over the water, as was a Victorian era full length gown. Both moved silently on their invisible wires. Clowns in white face opened the show. Costumes were in wild contrast; some inspired by red clad Beefeaters at the Tower of London in full powdered wigs. Others actors were clad in skintight almost transparent leotards, either painted or beaded to resemble Star Trek’s arch villain, The Borg.
At several points during the show, fountains, or actors leaping into the pool caused significant splashes to wet us thoroughly. I found that as each new act unfolded, I was analyzing its potential to wet us further. Like all Cirque productions, O had no plot per se, however a logical thread is woven throughout all the acts, more appropriately described as “connectivity” rather than a ”plot”. The nut of it is mostly humans doing things the human body is not really designed to do. O is part magic, part acrobatic and trapeze, part modern dance, and part synchronized swimming. The show was fabulous and very entertaining.

Saturday night - Zumanity, another Cirque production, was playing at the New York New York casino. As much as I liked "O", I disliked Zumanity. Billed as a "another side of Cirque du Soleil", and was supposed to be a sexier, tantialzing, provocative offering from the Canadian entertainment group. Well, it was NONE of those things. While the show lacked the artistry of previous Cirque productions, its flavor was more like a gay pride event than anything else. Oh sure, there were young sexy actors, but at least half of the acts were "gay" - either boy/boy or girl/girl, and clearly these gay acts were more "celebrated" than the others. But the absolute worst aspect of the show was its "preachiness" - condescendingly "teaching" us all a thing or two about sex. I mused that the actors we like the evil twin/mirror images of "Carrie Nation" marchers at thed of the nineteenth century, heralding the beginning of the temperance movement. Come now! A total turnoff, despite all the tight young skin.

From here we are off to Spokane