Some random Las Vegas thoughts.
Security at the Consumer Electronics Show is a joke. It began after 9/11 when they started checking all bags coming into the show. While I suspect that's fully unnecessary, I understand why they do it, so fine if it either gives the perception of safety or the reality of it. But the actually checking of bags is borderline meaningless. One day, they looked in my bag and passed me through -- great, except the bag had three additional compartments. None of which got checked. Another day, the guard did look in several of the compartments. But in one of these I had some hardware in a smaller bag, which was clearly there to see. But whatever was in that bag -- obvious as it was -- wasn't checked. Another day, I just walked it. In fairness, it's a tough deal -- maybe 150,000 people attend during the week. But surface checks to appear you're doing something is just silly. So, they get an A for intent, and a D- for implementation. Several years ago on his Diners, Drive-ins and Drives show on Food Network, Guy Fieri visited a pizza restaurant in Las Vegas, Naked City Pizza. I marked down the name at the time and figured I'd try it on a trip to CES if it was convenient. As it happens, I had a free day, and one of their three or four branches was somewhat nearby, so I went. The pizza was fine -- fairly tasty but nothing special, a fairly bready dough, a thin but tasty sauce, and basic cheese. To be clear, I didn't get the pizza he ate on the show. That was a pretty loaded one, and it may have been delicious. But since I had the foundational pizza that overlapped what the special pizza had, I have a good tasting of how it was made. And...it was fine. The toppings combination may have taken it to another level, but this was not special pizza. It was -- well, you know -- fine. For many years, I've said there are pretty much only two things I like about Las Vegas: buffets and free self-parking at casino/hotels. Last year, a few Las Vegas casinos started charging for self-parking. Most people I talked to -- visitors and casino workers -- disliked the inroad. This year, it got ratcheted up: almost every casino on the Strip now charges. I understand the reasoning. But it still seems counter-productive. Casinos dearly want people to stay at the casino and do everything to attract them and not leave. When you charge people and put a clock on when they'll owe more, that pretty much defeats the purpose. So, we're down to there's one good thing in Las Vegas: lots of buffets
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What a great, long, odd day it was yesterday when an Northwestern alumni friend and I drove down from Los Angeles to San Diego to see the beloved NU to play in the Holiday Bowl -- and then back again after the game. (A lot of friends through we were nuts to want to drive back, but I had no interest to spend New Year's Eve in a San Diego hotel and then miss most of the bowl games on New Year's Day. We also figured that with the game likely to end before 8 PM, there shouldn't be an issue with traffic. Most concerns on New Year's Even come closer to midnight as being have been drinking all night and switching between parties, and on side streets. Not driving from San Diego to Los Angeles at 8 PM.) The game began at 4 PM, though we had tickets for the official Northwestern "N Zone" tailgate party which began at 1 PM. But my friend was wary of traffic on New Year's Eve day, and wanted to leave early -- which he kept pushing earlier. I thought traffic would be fine, but was fine with leaving early, guaranteeing that you'd beat the traffic. And if you're there early, so beat. Even incredibly early. We were there incredibly early. We left at 8:30 in the morning, and it took less than two hours to make the drive. So we had 2-1/2 hours before even the tailgate party began! The game was still 5-1/2 hours away. The tailgate wasn't really at the back of a car, but under a huge tent, which turned out to be a good thing because while San Diego is known for it's glorious weather, always around 70 and sunny, I am sure the city's Chamber of Commerce was beside themselves for the national TV coverage. There was nothing glorious about the weather, starting out around 58-degrees and rainy. (Thank you for the tent! A nearby corporate tailgate party had lots of tables and chairs, but zero tent. I suspect theirs was far less comfortable...) Very good barbecue -- brisket, chicken, potato salad, barbecued beans, well, you know -- for which I dd my best to get my money's worth. The NU band and spirit team showed up, and ESPN host of Pardon the Interruption Michael Wilbon -- a Northwestern grad and trustee -- hosted, and there were several speeches. Happily, I ran into my good pal Morty Schapiro (the president of Northwestern) who...okay, maybe not a good pal, but an email buddy who I've met a few times, and his wife Mimi Rothman Schapiro (a Writers Guild member whose written half a dozen TV moves for Lifetime, most notable a biography of Olympic skater Oksana Baiul), had a nice visit and he invited us to sit at one of his tables right up from. This is Wilbon on the left and Morty on the right. We then headed over to the stadium -- where there was still an hour-and-a-quarter to go before the game would begin. But the weather at least cleared up, and if it wasn't warm and sunny, it at least was not raining anymore, so that was something. And then the game finally began. And alas, that whole "it at least was not raining anymore" thing didn't hold up. Though the "it wasn't warm" did. Ah, the glorious weather of San Diego. For the next three hours, it rained on-and-off throughout, and the temperature dropped to the lower 50s. (Yes, I know that sounds balmy for the winter climes elsewhere, but San Diego doesn't drop that low often, and it was raining. And you're just sitting there.) Happily, it was never a hard rain, often fairly light. And coming from Chicago, I knew to dress in layers. Also helpful -- every seat had those big, stupid foam rubber "We're #1" fingers. And they made wonderful leg covers at you sat there, especially since so many people around us left for cover, so spreading out three of them was quite a bonus. Stupid for cheering, wonderful for rain protection... And then there was the game. And then came the majestic third quarter. Northwestern outscored Utah 28-0. And no, that's not a typo either. Utah's highly-rated defense hadn't given up a touchdown in seven straight quarters. But in the third quarter alone, they gave up three. The fourth Northwestern touchdown came on a defensive fumble recovery and return. It seemed like Utah was shell-shocked. Meanwhile, Northwestern and its fans were euphoric. And at the end of three quarters, NU had erased the deficit and was now 31-20. And then, the team played very well but protectively in fourth quarter, and held on to win by that score. Just look at that third quarter. I was not a-lying... By the last few minutes, what with the chill, rain and depressing score, the Utah side of the field had pretty much been cleared out of fans. A lot of the NU side stayed through it all. Cheering wildly to the end. It did make leaving the stadium easier. (Though in fairness, getting there 5-1/2 hours early and finding a great parking spot for leaving made it a whole lot easier, too...) And then, after a few screw-ups trying to get back to the freeway, we returned in even less time than the trip down. The drive was a breeze, and I was back home by 10:15 PM, and able to celebrate bringing the New Year in. Though plenty of celebrating had been done during the game. Huzzah. Great day, wonderfully fun day, and very odd. Happy New Year. Well, I'm back in Los Angeles, and what I find impressive is that I got the exact same greeting from the city's mayor and the state's governor upon my arrival that Trump got when he landed in Pittsburgh.
That, of course, would be none. On the other hand, my pal Bill Goldstein did pick me up at the airport and drove me home. And while Trump had rides, too, that took him to whatever pandering faux-sympathy location he was going, I'm going to guess that they were on some payroll and got paid. Bill drove me home purely out of goodwill and kindness. Keep in mind, too, that Pittsburgh is the city that Trump pointed to when he pulled out of the Paris Accord, and said, "I was elected to represent the citizens of Pittsburgh, not Paris." It should be noted that at that time, Pittsburgh Mayor Bill Peduto responsed -- “Fact: Hillary Clinton received 80% of the vote in Pittsburgh. Pittsburgh stands with the world and will follow Paris agreement. As the mayor of Pittsburgh, I can assure you that we will follow the guidelines of the Paris agreement for our people, our economy and future.” There are many morals that one can pull from this, but the one I'm going with is -- People named "Bill" seem to be on the right side of goodness. Well, I made it in. The train actually arrived impressively close on time -- in fact, five minutes early, getting into Union Station in Chicago after almost 40 hours on the rails. (This is hardly the best photo of the Southwest Chief, but it did its job well, as I deboarded and headed out into the station.) The elves taking care of the homestead said they had an even better time than I did because it was like I was incommunicado for two days, and they had everything to themselves. (In fact, I did have full phone access, and although it turned out that the sleeping cars did have Wi-Fi, the network was dicey and very slow. There was 4G broadband, as well, and better, though not ideal. But it let me stay in touch somewhat reasonably.) Most of the yesterday was spent going through the desert, mainly New Mexico and then later in the day and through the night across Colorado. It's not the most colorful part of the journey, but the rocks and foothills are wonderful to watch as you pass by. I didn't spend as much time in the observation car as I did on my previous trip, but that's largely because I had a coach seat the time before, and this time the windows in my roomette sufficed quite nicely. They also changed the configuration of the observation car. My recollection from before is that it had comfortable high-back chairs that swung around. Now, they had tables in one half, and smaller chairs in the other half. I didn't find it as interesting as the previous design, although what makes the observation so nice is the wide expanse of all the windows when you look around, and the sense of the sky above. I was also looking forward to it at night, which most people don't think of with the observation car. But the last time I recall entering the totally dark car that was largely empty, and you barely can see the desert around you -- but because you're nowhere near any towns, the sky is overwhelmed with stars that almost seemed to brighten the area. Unfortunately, this time they had some dim lights on throughout the car which mucked up the effect. Perhaps if I went later (this was around 8:30) the car would have been darkened and it would have been as wonderful. By the way, after getting into downtown Chicago this afternoon, my train traveling wasn't over yet. I walked north along the Chicago River about eight minutes to the Ogilvie Transportation Center. That's the old, significantly re-built Chicago & Northwestern train station which serves most of the local trains in the area (though the Union Station does handle some, while more a center for Amtrak nationally). From there I caught the Union Pacific North to Evanston. Much shorter. That trip was about 25 minutes. I may toss in a few other Tales of the Train later, but at the moment I'm still getting settled and we'll leave it there for now. And what the heck, I might as well round things out and include that finishing train trip. I've always loved these suburban commuter trains because they're double-deck. They've been that way since I was a kid, and most of the time I love to sit above and get a better view of the ride. They felt very magical back then when they introduced them, and they still do all those years later. And with that, we'll leave the trains for the time being. Okay, this should be the last of the pre-scheduled articles that I wrote before leaving on my train trip from Los Angeles to Chicago. That's because we're scheduled to arrive at Union Station around 3 PM this afternoon. And I thought it would be most-especially appropriate to post the famous, final sequence from the aforementioned movie, Silver Streak. As I noted, this is the same train that the movie is based on. In reality it's called the Southwest Chief. (At the time of the movie, the route was for the Super Chief.) What's happening here in the movie is that the brakes have been cut on the train, and Gene Wilder, Jill Clayburgh, Richard Pryor and Pullman porter Scatman Crothers are still on board as it hurtles towards the station. Here's hoping that my arrival is smoother. And that it doesn't give any ideas to the elves taking care of the homestead how they should treat the place. While it's pretty clear that most of that's not actually Union Station in Chicago, since destroying the elegant, classic architecture wouldn't have been considered good form, the demolished stand-in is intercut with some moments of the real thing. (Though we do see more of it in earlier sequences of the film, setting up this finale.) However, it's been used in countless movies, perhaps best known for the "Potemkin Odessa Steps" homage in The Untouchables, when they have the shoot-out to pick-up Al Capone's bookkeeper. And also in The Sting. (Oddly, if memory serves, it's the scene when Redford and Newman's characters watch Doyle Lonnegan getting on board in New York, before they themselves get on to start their scam of him.) But here's what the real Union Station looks like from a couple of photos I've taken in the past. And here are those steps, which should probably look familiar. Oh, what the heck. Here's that scene from The Untouchables. I wrote and schedule this long before I took off on my train journey to Chicago, so I have no idea where I am at the moment. Somewhere in the mid-Prairie, I'd think. With no certainly of Wi-Fi, we does our best. And rely on the elves back at the homestead, always a wary proposition. And okay, given that this is a train journey and Chicago is at the core of it, how on earth can I not play Steve Goodman's great song, "The City of New Orleans"??! Yes, I know "New Orleans" is in the title, but that train departs (or arrives, depending on your direction) from Chicago. (In the song, it departs from Chicago, going "southbound." It was on the Illinois Central line, and as one of the lines says, "The train pulled out at Kankakee," which is a town about an hour or so southwest of Chicago. I have a couple of versions here. The first, of course, is from Steve Goodman, recorded in 1972. Arlo Guthrie has a terrific version, and made the song famous, which Steve Goodman also credited. Willie Nelson won a Grammy for it. But this is how the song is done -- This second video is not from Arlo Guthrie or Willie Nelson. Nor the wonderful version by The Highwaymen -- Nelson, Wayland Jennings, Johnny Cash and Kris Kristofferson. (Little known fact: John Cash was the first person offered the song, but he turned it down. And spent the next several decades saying it was one of he great regrets. But on a TV special he invited Steve Goodman on to sing the song. By the way, he didn't turn it down because he didn't like it -- he thought it was wonderful. But he'd recorded SO many train songs, he didn't want to keep being identified with them alone.) Instead, this is performed by Jimmy Buffet, and is fairly similar to Goodman's original. Which isn't surprising since he and Steve Goodman were very close, and even collaborated on songs. In fact, when Steve Goodman passed away shortly before his beloved Chicago Cubs finally made the post-season in 1984 for the first time in 39 years, he had been scheduled to sing the National Anthem before the first game of the playoffs at Wrigley Field...and Jimmy Buffet sang it his place. Which makes this performance all the more touching. This version takes place in the right field bleachers of Wrigley Field, when Jimmy Buffet was the first person ever to give a concert there, in 2005. It's a nicely-edited video...and this is how he ended the concert -- |
AuthorRobert J. Elisberg is a political commentator, screenwriter, novelist, tech writer and also some other things that I just tend to keep forgetting. Feedspot Badge of Honor
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