Moments before boarding my plane to Las Vegas Friday I texted my two step-brothers the enduring quote from Swingers that reflects the anticipatory thrill of an impending Vegas adventure: “Vegas, baby, Vegas!” Dutifully, they responded independently with another Swingers classic, “You are so money, Mikey!” Ironically, on the long drive to Vegas the characters repeat the Vegas Baby Vegas line in an exhausted daze. This rapid fade of enthusiasm as the physical demands of the city are faced provide a useful foreshadowing to our weekend.
Kristi and I boarded the plane, ready for a split weekend: half as a romantic get-away and half as the bachelor party for step –brother Steve (GoBlue!). On the plane I watched the new Vegas classic, The Hangover, which was considerably funnier the second time, especially en route for a bachelor party! We arrived to oppressive heat rushing us inside to settle into our rooms (after a quick stop at In n’ Out, of course!). I had a room at the Aria, one of the hotels in the new City Center Complex. City Center was an audacious and poorly-timed real estate venture that opened in late 2008 – yeah, that 2008. It was partially funded by Dubai World, the investment company for the Dubai Government that defaulted on its debt and sought restructuring in late 2009 because of . . . wait for it . . . over-building of ambitious real estate projects!
Three years later, City Center is almost completely open (notable exception: a condominium tower that still sits empty and now slated for demolition, having never hosted a single tenant) and the hotels and shopping are doing quite well. Financial disasters aside, the architects and engineers involved managed to create one of the most stunning works of modern urban architecture the world has ever seen. The look is sleek, futuristic, and organic. Although the complex’s expanse widely outstripped the need when it opening, a nod has been given toward sustainable construction; most of the buildings there are gold LEED certified. I was most interested in its reputation for public art, one of the most valuable collections anywhere (and most of it on 24 hour permanent display).
The art did not disappoint. My favorite piece is a set of swirling water vortexes in the shopping plaza, Crystals. The installation consists of a dozen plexiglass tubes that intermittently fill with water and a whirlpool, giving the impression of a small army of tornadoes rising from the floor. We also discovered that the Aria creates work of art daily in their restaurants. Dinner Friday night was at Sage, an American-nouveau cuisine restaurant by Chef Shawn McClain. We enjoyed a tasting menu that included heirloom tomatoes, oysters, pork belly, scallops, and a peanut butter chocolate torte. You can see the menu here: http://www.arialasvegas.com/files/dining/Sage-Signature-79.pdf. They paired my dishes with Belgian beer, including draught selections of Duvel and Chimay. I can safely say it was one of the 5 best meals of my entire life. Pure epicurean Heaven.
Dinner was followed by taking in Ka at the MGM, one of the seven permanent Cirque-du-Soleil shows in Las Vegas (do you remember when Cirque-du-Soleil was a little-known avante garde touring troupe from Montreal pitching a tent on Santa Monica beach? Times have changed . . .) Ka was outstanding, possibly as good as “O”, their water-themed show at Bellagio and the standard by which all Cirque shows should be measured. A unique twist for Ka (aside from the stunning rotating stage that floats and is capable of 360˚ rotations) is that it actually has a recognizable plot, a rarity among Cirque productions.
Late Friday, I was able to join 5 other underdog poolers at Marquee, the latest nightclub to be saddled with the “hottest club in Vegas” tag. Judging by the hordes of twentysomethings in club wear gathered outside the velvet ropes, the Millennials have swallowed the hype. We were escorted to a reserved cabana on the outdoor pool level of the club, provided bottle service with magnums of Grey Goose, and were encouraged to mingle and flirt with dozens of bachelorette parties. I realize I am not the designated generational target audience for this experience, but I find it difficult to make small talk and meet new people while extended House redux mixes of REM, New Order, and Journey (yes, Journey- you read that correctly) are piped into my ears at a brain-melting 100 dB.
Saturday began late, as it often does in Las Vegas. We had a nice lunch at a Tapas restaurant with a friend from Medical School, then wandered off to the tables to pass the time. Normally, I would curl up in a corner of the sports book with a bucket of beers, but the football season had not yet started. That didn’t stop ESPN from broadcasting football, however. The geniuses in Bristol think it’s really cool to use the weekend before college football to show dozens of high school games. Let’s think about this: high school football. Played in Texas. In August. Now most of the time I am just a dumb ER doc. But to be completely fair I am an expert in a couple of things: X-men comic books, James Bond movies, and heat-related illnesses. Broadcasting high school football on national television in August is horribly irresponsible. Every year, football players get into trouble with heat. Although all athletes (from baseball players to RAGBRAI riders) are vulnerable to heat illness, football players are especially so because of several factors. 1) They wear 30 pounds of armor and cover their entire head with a heat-trapping dome. 2) The nature of the sport breeds a counter-adaptive machismo to push yourselves harder to not be “wussy” and drink water. 3) Football practice starts in August and the players experience the peak of environmental heat before they have acclimatized. After exerting oneself in a hot environment for 2 weeks, the body is capable of undergoing physiologic changes to cope with the temperature easier. Many football players enter full-contact practice before acclimatization. The deaths that occur annually in football players occur in August. And they usually occur in high school players. By broadcasting these games, ESPN has created a perverse incentive toward playing and practicing in unsafe environments.
Saturday began late, as it often does in Las Vegas. We had a nice lunch at a Tapas restaurant with a friend from Medical School, then wandered off to the tables to pass the time. Normally, I would curl up in a corner of the sports book with a bucket of beers, but the football season had not yet started. That didn’t stop ESPN from broadcasting football, however. The geniuses in Bristol think it’s really cool to use the weekend before college football to show dozens of high school games. Let’s think about this: high school football. Played in Texas. In August. Now most of the time I am just a dumb ER doc. But to be completely fair I am an expert in a couple of things: X-men comic books, James Bond movies, and heat-related illnesses. Broadcasting high school football on national television in August is horribly irresponsible. Every year, football players get into trouble with heat. Although all athletes (from baseball players to RAGBRAI riders) are vulnerable to heat illness, football players are especially so because of several factors. 1) They wear 30 pounds of armor and cover their entire head with a heat-trapping dome. 2) The nature of the sport breeds a counter-adaptive machismo to push yourselves harder to not be “wussy” and drink water. 3) Football practice starts in August and the players experience the peak of environmental heat before they have acclimatized. After exerting oneself in a hot environment for 2 weeks, the body is capable of undergoing physiologic changes to cope with the temperature easier. Many football players enter full-contact practice before acclimatization. The deaths that occur annually in football players occur in August. And they usually occur in high school players. By broadcasting these games, ESPN has created a perverse incentive toward playing and practicing in unsafe environments.
This sport was meant to be played in the Autumn, when the air is crisp and the leaves are gold.
The season is finally here poolers!
Fight On,
Hans
