The Manilow

When I was a child I developed two characteristics. One is that once I find something I like, I will stick with it. The other is that I have always been a step behind in just about everything. Hence my glee at the return of peasant blouses and the reason I scan store catalogue hoping beyond hope that bellbottoms or acid wash will come back. It also explains why all during the 80’s and even now I am a Barry Manilow fan. When I was 12 I discovered that sappy ballads and powerful key changes hit my heart. So the whole Las Vegas trip was a birthday present to take me to see the man who knew exactly what I was feeling when those dumbass boys were stupid enough to let me go!

Now I know that Barry appeals to a different part of people than say BB King or Mozart, but I love the fact that he does not take himself too seriously and has fun with the cheese factor in his performance. Besides, his songs actually have melody and lyrics that do touch something very human inside of us all.

But the best part of the show happened after the encore. I met Tony. He didn’t tend bar, he was an 82 year old usher who was simply charming.

"Do you know that that blond boy is Barry Manilow? Yes, it is true. The people last night, they didn’t know."

When Fellow Fanilow asked him to give me his Barry Manilow button as a birthday present, he responded…

"My button? You want my button? You’re half my age. Elton John, now he as two buttons – here and here."(Putting his hands on his backside.)

Well, thanks to Fellow Fanilow, I now have a very nice button. I also have an understanding of the multi tiered slot machine. If you get two cherries, an orange, three pineapples and one Carmen Miranda – that is good. But if it is two Carmens, one cherry, one orange and a fruit basket is not good. Or wait, maybe it is if Carmen is staring at you cross-eyed that you win, or lose. Maybe I have a lot more to learn before I getting into the super secret high stakes games.


Joie de Vivre ~ A Hearty Joy of Living!

Viva Las Vegas

The birthday weekend got off to a surprisingly good start – beginning at the airport where doodah!, Fellow Fanilow and I met a lovely semi-retired anesthesiologist who lives in Vegas. I say semi-retired because there is a doctor that she has partnered with for many years who moved his practice to the foothills of California. Whenever he has a serious surgery he flies her in for the day. I guess with the pressure of surgery, you’d want someone you know and trust on the keeping-the-patient-out-but-not-dead end of things. All I’ve got to say is that the money had better be pretty darn good because the flight’s an hour and a half and the drive is more than another couple of hours. Anywho, she gave us the lowdown on the place locals go for a weekend buffet – the same food as the casinos on the strip but only a third the price. She also let us know that if you are going to see Cirque Da Sole, while both are dazzling, Mystere has a better storyline than O and is more elegant. So put that in the corner pocket of your mind for future getaway plans.


After we got our rental car (which we lovingly referred to as our muscle gangsta car) and checked into our room – which had little munchkins bouncing off the walls hopped up on lollipops (get it, munchkins…lollipops…) – it was 2:30 AM and we were starving and buzzed on over stimulation. So off to the Bellagio Café for a super late night supper. Easy-peasy, right? Ha! Vegas may be eager to fill your every whim when you are in the super secret high stakes Kino game room (I know they exist somewhere, I know they do dang nab it), but if you are an ordinary couple of Janes wanting a BLT at 3 AM you’re going to have to learn the lessons of waiting. Not only did it take three people to get customers to their tables and take orders, the wait staff had an unwritten rule that they were not to communicate with each other verbally (it probably throws gamblers off their mojo) so they have some Helen Keller strung out on crack hand signal system, which no one understood and had to walk over and whisper in the other’s ear. If they point three fingers in the air while facing east and flicking the wrist clockwise means seat these two people away from the kitchen door and get them water with ice. A counterclockwise flick of the wrist means no ice.

But the best part of the night came as we were standing outside with middle aged men and their, well lets just assume they are their daughters. As we were languishing in line, this guy with a white satin tracksuit with teal writing and his friend came strutting in past the hostess and two assistants, totally ignoring the hand signals. A flurry of staff stumbled over themselves shooing him back to the front. Let’s pick up the dialogue here:

Tracksuit Man: Do you know who I am?
Mousey Hostess: No sir, but you have to wait until the others have been seated.
TM: Do you know who I am? We are RF & BD, (which sounded like r f’n bd, as in real f’n big deal). I wait for nobody. Get Tom on the line and you’ll find out I don’t wait for nobody.

I don’t know who Tim was, but he got RF & BD a table, sitting just far enough away from us that we got to see him periodically stand up, take off his jacket and walk past the mirrors admiringly flexing his muscles – all for our entertainment. We would have taken a picture, but I think he knew people who could hurt us and make it look like an accident.　But anytime you feel frustrated and that you deserve better, feel free to shout out, "I'm RF'NBD and I don't wait for nobody!"

Coming up next, the Music and Passion.

Joie de Vivre ~ A Hearty Joy of Living!

Me and Elvis

One month ago two incredibly dear friends took me on the ride of my life to celebrate my 40th birthday. Yes that is right, the big four-oh. By the way, I am to tell you that my mother, who is too young to have a child this old, adopted me when I was 20 and she was 14 years old.

So where did we go, you may ask? Was it to the raging nightlife of Boise? Duluth? Omaha? These are all very fine cities in their own right. But for a milestone birthday we headed for the bright lights of the Los Vegas Strip.

There were a few goals that we had:
1) Convince someone to let us be brides maids at their Las Vegas Chapel-o-Love wedding.
2) Find an Elvis. We got so busy that goals one and two dropped down on the things-we-gotta-do list. However, I found out that the head of our math department was hitched at the Vegas Graceland Chapel where you can have your choice of Elvis, gold lamé young Elvis and the flashy, sequined, 70's cape and jumpsuit Elvis, perform the wedding.
3) Visit all the places in Ocean's 11
and quote as many lines as possible. Fortunately the only line I can remember is, "If you don't shut up I am going to eat your whole head."
4) And the major reason we went to Vegas is to see The Man in action. Yes, I am talking about Berry Manilow. What can I say, he writes the songs that make the whole world sing.

There is more to come. So please stay tuned.

Joie de Vivre ~ A Hearty Joy of Living!

Elvis and Me

I am off to Vegas Baby for a girls' weekend and a milestone birthday. Plus we are on the hunt for the quintessential Elvis-wannabe. More stories to come.

Joie de Vivre ~ A Hearty Joy of Living!