As we crested into the desert we put in some Coast to Coast and, as it always happens, that sparked great conversation. We talked and we listened and I watched the land go by outside the passenger window. Now as I am usually the driver it’s nice every once in a while to take a break from it and be a passenger. Which is nice as you seem to see more of the travel then you would concentrating on the road and making sure you can merge into traffic or whatever it is you happen to be doing at that driving time.
We ended up stopping in baker at the Mad Greek as it was tradition. Or at least it was after we stopped there. My broskie had made a sort of proclamation at the beginning of our odyssey that wherever we had gone before, to truly make it a tradition we had had to do whatever it was three times. So the Mad Greek, along with the place were we got the sandwiches were forming a traditional slant to the trip. Plus if you’re headed to Vegas, you need to stop to see that big assed thermometer they have in Baker. Though I think it was off a bit temperature wise. The hybrids temperature gauge was telling the temperature at a higher then baker big assed thermometer temperature that day, which was around the low hundreds and fairly humid. So standing outside the car, sticky and hot, we smoked a bit and giggled at our proximity to the city of sin.
Now one of our “traditions” that became a tradition due to the three times rule is to stop at Buffalo Bill’s and ride the Desperado roller coaster. It’s a fairly bad assed crazy ride that’s slightly short but any more and I think my brain would explode. The rise to the top of the first drop actually is so high that the coaster has a chance to bend back almost on itself as you drop, then it shoots under and through a building. And that’s just the beginning. Now at that point, the point where the coaster begins to pick up speed and drop, is usually the point where the individuals riding this thing begin to either scream or shit their pants, or both. We, on the other hand, begin to laugh like crazed loons out from the asylum. Shrieking with laughter we shoot around the corners and fear for our lives. And then, out of breath and hoping that you don’t have to check your shorts in the boy’s potty, you wobble out of the cars and into air conditioned goodness. Hearts pounding we crossed the gaming area and made our way out onto the casino floor so we could smoke a few smokes. Tradition completed we headed back out to the car and on to Vegas and debauchery.
The other tradition I have to add in here real quick is the one, mine I have to admit, where I play “Viva Las Vegas” by the Dead Kennedys. Something about Jello ripping out that old bluesy tune with the voracity of a badger on crack. Crazed guitar rifts and a drum beat that goes faster then a human should be able to play it. Pure joy and beauty from the land of punk. And in all actuality I think that that is not yet a tradition as I haven’t played it three years running. But to me, it’s in the works.
So we saw the lights and the magic of that place in the desert, that town built primarily for the joys of gambling and booze and little to no clothing, and we played the tune that signals our arrival. We had been debating whether or not to head over to the hotel we were at or to head over to Bally’s as that was where the convention was to be held and we were almost too late, though we made it just in time for the check in. They were going to close it down at eight and I think we made it by about 7:57 or so. Just by the hair on our chinny chin chin’s. So we got our shirts, our bags of swag, and the chance to peruse the other folks attending and get that “I’ve arrived at the geek fest” feeling. I am here to tell you all that yes, it is a Christmassy kind of feeling to be one of “those types” of people that have gamed, still game, and always will game till I am dead. I plan on passing my “Zombies!” game down to my daughter but I think in time my nuclear escalation game will probably go to my son. Both are great games and I highly suggest securing copies for yourself.
