REFLECTION, RUMINATION & RHETORIC FROM THE ROAD: VEGAS
2. Good Eating, Visualization, Sound Waves & Madness
Even without fear & loathing and HST, Vegas is trippy.
Vic & Anthony’s Steakhouse is a sedately satisfying start with chopped salad, a “Rib Cap American Wagyu,” wild mushrooms and creamed spinach washed down with fine pinot noir.
The surreality beings with dessert…
…which is… a dinosaur egg?
Then out to Fremont Street Experience, a canopy of color and…
…heaving sound waves.
The thing to do is let alter ego take over, toke a joint, stand in front of the speakers and allow the blast to massage your organs and bones.
And then walk the walk…
That’s when things take a strange turn.
Munchies set in so, sneaking, into a bodega for a snack here’s what I find at the deli counter…
A Yellow Submarine sandwich?
Mind you, the butcher’s offering isn’t a whole lot more enticing.
And I discover that chickens Sin City sport tattoos.
I need to splash cold water on my face and after doing so glance at myself in the mirror.
And from out of nowhere Rod Stewart prances on stage…
Singing something about age…
And he croons the most beautiful rendition of Reason to Believe I’ve ever heard (though doesn’t mention this tune, speaking of age, was composed by my old friend Tim Hardin who’s been dead longer than he was alive).