The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

The Wynn: the Disneyfication of European Elegance

Power outtage @
Rio just as dinner
was ending. Very dark
and quiet.


XXXXXXX XXXXX
    XXXXXXX.[What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. And that's all I'll say about this note. —Editor]


The Wynn: the Disneyfication
of European Elegance.

Notes from page 44 of the “Viva Lost Wages” notebook

Upon returning from Rachel, Nevada, Hoade and I met with my Dad (who drove in from Palm Springs, California to meet us) and we headed off to the Carnival World Buffet at the Rio for dinner.

The buffet was huge and we spent quite a bit of time running around gathering food and stuffing our faces. Just as we were getting ready to leave the power at the Rio goes out.

Casinos are never quiet—at the very least there is the background radiation of a casino is the constant din of “Money money money money money” from the slot machines (next time you're there—just listen to them—I swear they say “Money money money money money”) and the they're lit so you can easily make your way through the maze of beckoning gambling games, but a dark and silent casino?

Nothing is scarier than a dark and quiet casino. For perhaps a full ten to fifteen seconds there's total quiet then the slot zombies come shambling out. “Slots …. slooooottttttsssssss.” Fortunately for us, we had the buffet chairs to fend off the slot zombies as we made our way outside.

The title for this installment comes from the observation I made about The Wynn, where we headed to calm down after the attack of the slot zombies. Yes, the Wynn is very elegant. But it has this … Disneyesque feel about the place. Heck, most of modern Las Vegas has this Disneyesque feel about it, now that I think about it.


Snippits from Lost Wages

What was interesting about this day last year is that I have the most notes (a full twenty pages) from today, but that Hoade and I really didn't do anything today. We hung around the hotel room for several hours, then went out to visit a bunch of casinos the in the area.

[That's the Bellagio in the background]

Hoade in front of Disneyesque European Elegance.

Guy sleeping in the doorway of
the unused entryway of the
restaurant. Dad and I had
breakfast.


The waitress was a bit snarky.


Kid on a leash. What is that
telling the kid? What does that
say about the parent? Why
would parents bring kids to
this place [Las Vegas —Editor] anyway?


Plane after plane after plane
is landing at the airport.
I've seen a dozen planes in
a few moments.

Notes from page 45 of the “Viva Lost Wages” notebook

I think we were both getting burned out by this point, as we had already done everything we wanted to do on this working vacation (Hoade came to Las Vegas as research for a book he was writing. Since he's never been and I had, he tagged me to come along with him).

[And there's a bit of a faux Paris in the back ground. Much like Disney.]

Me, in front some Disneyesque European Elegance.

A really large and obnoxious
American is bitching about the
size of the $595 prime rib.
He is about as tall standing as
he is lying down.


I may have to write a simulation
of Keno, just to get a feel for
the odds. Although the payouts
are probably the odds.


Hoade and I pretended to play
Keno. 20 # out of 80 are selected
the player can select up to 15.
There is a variation where you
win quite a lot for getting
0 #s. Hoade and I still
lost.

Notes from page 46 of the “Viva Lost Wages” notebook

Most of the notes I took today were personal in nature, observations about Las Vegas, the band playing at the Hôtel San Rémo that night, that type of thing.

Thoughts on Vegas:

Notes from page 60 of the “Viva Lost Wages” notebook.

That last note reminds me of Easter Island—the natives built larger and larger heads to bring favor back from the gods as their habitat slowly died around them.

Yup, this day was a rather depressing day in Las Vegas.

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