Economic meltdown. Vegas-style! - December 3, 2008
Hello everyone,
Last week, I went to 2 of the most mind-blowing places on earth, and remarkably they are both within an hour of each other. The first of those places was Las Vegas, the self-styled capital of razzmatazz. I have been to Vegas once before, for the same reason I was in Vegas this time, The Las Vegas Comedy Festival. On the face of it, you wouldn't necessarily put Las Vegas and 'comedy festival' together. There are so many shows on in Vegas all the time anyway, that it's a bit like putting on a jazz festival in New Orleans. That said, it still managed to once again attract some of the biggest names in comedy. Jerry Seinfeld and Ellen De Generes to name but two (partly because I can't remember the others). Las Vegas is one of those places that never cease to amaze me. It really does show exactly what man is capable of achieving (if by 'man' you mean 'mafia')
From the moment you get off the plane in Las Vegas, you are greeted by an atmosphere of jubilation mixed with chronic desperation, it really is quite unnerving. The arrivals lounge is shared with the departure lounge, which means as you breathe in the suspiciously heavily-oxygenated air for the first time, you also have a chance to gaze into the eyes of people on their way out of Vegas, and there may well not be a more harrowing human image than that. 'How could these people look so miserable?' I thought as I eyed up the giant posters on the walls showing lots of people roaring with laughter as they threw dice at tables...Clearly gambling is just lots of fun! Isn't it? But instead, there in the departure lounge was a group of dour, weary, unshaven individuals (and that was just the woman), wringing the empty space on their wrist where their watch used to be. But I would not let the mood be brought down by these sore losers and I fixed my sights firmly on the dazzling lights of the famous Vegas Strip in the distance and swiftly marched to the baggage carousel.
I was staying at Caesars Palace, right in the heart of the famous Strip. The hotel was massive, and the surrounding complex was even bigger. Basically, it was possible to check in on Friday and not actually find your room until Sunday. Each area of the hotel was named after a Roman legend. So, you could stay in the Augustus Towers, or sip cocktails in Cleopatra's nightclub. Each area of the hotel was sensitively recreated in the stylings of the great empire of Rome. I'm sure had Julius Caesar been given the option, he too would have happily signed off on a 3 year residency for Celine Dion in The Forum. I'm sure he would also have been delighted to see a giant statue of himself wearing a party shop arrow through his head and a pair of bright red boxer shorts to promote a Comedy Festival! I was pretty jet-lagged the night before the show, so I turned in early ordering a 'Brutus Burger' from the room service menu. Room service food is one of the greatest, and most destructive, elements of a comedian's life. There is something very comforting in the actual ordering of the food, but when you are lying on a bed an hour later surrounded by the leftovers of reheated chicken wings, it does tend to feel a bit like Elvis's final days. The basic rule is to avoid any fish dish. I ordered the Clam Chowder soup in a slightly dodgy hotel in Darlington a few months ago, and experienced the kind of sickness that you would usually associate with Dickensian times.
The following evening I performed in the Ballroom on the opening night of the festival. I was on with Mitch Fatel and Jamie Kennedy, both well-established comedians in the US. I was very much the "who the hell is this guy?" addition to the bill, and I very much lived up to that billing in the opening few moments of my 25 minute set. Fortunately, I was able to turn the crowd opinion to the "hey, that first guy was quite funny" conclusion by the end of the performance, and I was more than happy with that outcome. Then on Friday night I got tickets to see Jerry Seinfeld, which was simply amazing. He did just under 80 minutes of top drawer observational comedy, and showed himself to be every bit the legend of comedy I have long held him to be. On my way back through the patchwork of casinos which make up just about every thoroughfare in Vegas, I saw something which summed up Vegas for me. It was a slot machine called 'The Credit Crunch!' (No, I'm not kidding!) Anywhere else in the world this would have been an example of monumental bad taste, but this was Vegas, and there was a bloody queue to play it! I'm not sure if you actually won money on it? Perhaps you hit a button and if 5 'Lehman Brothers' logos came up on the winning line you reduced the national debt. I really don't know? All I know is, having a Credit Crunch Slot machine is a bit like having a Tsunami Wave Pool, or a Jeffery Dahmer fridge freezer, it just 'aint right. Such disregard for the rest of the world's economic woes is entirely understandable in a city where 'high rollers' regularly fritter away more money than an epileptic at an auction*. Basically, Las Vegas will always exist, as long as there are rich, stupid people in the world.
By Saturday, I was ready to leave Las Vegas, which means by Sunday I was really ready to leave Las Vegas, which means by Monday I had nearly shot myself in the head. I'm not sure why I thought it would be a good idea to stay on in Vegas the day after the festival ended. It felt a bit like staying on in Edinburgh after the festival is over there, oh no, hang on, I do that every year. I live there. But, Vegas is different partly because it continues to be just as maddeningly frenetic after the comedy festival has packed up and left. Indeed, the vast majority of people there were scarcely even aware a comedy festival was on! Vegas is definitely one of those places you have to visit at least once (but probably no more than once) in your lifetime. It is more tacky than a flashing Celine Dion fridge magnet. How do I know this? Because you could actually buy a flashing Celine Dion fridge magnet.
On Monday, I realised I had to get out of Vegas so I booked myself a helicopter tour to the second most mind-blowing place on earth, The Grand Canyon. Those of you who read my last blog will know that this is the 2nd Wonder of the World which I have visited in as many months. I'm not planning gigs around this principle, it really is just coincidence.** Anyway, 2 things immediately concerned me when I turned up at the helicopter base for the Canyon tour. The first was that I had never been in a helicopter before and therefore a breakneck flight through the twists and turns of a gigantic gorge was probably not the ideal first-time experience. And secondly, a 20-stone American was in the same queue as me! 'Please let him just be asking a question.' I thought. But no, he was there to enjoy the same trip which I was now extremely unlikely to enjoy myself. As it happens everything was fine, apparently the helicopter could easily accommodate 6 people the size and weight of my American companion (a fact the pilot rather insensitively highlighted by pointing at the large gentlemen and saying "don't worry, we can take up to 6 of him!")
The trip took us deep down into the gully of the canyon where we parked up for an hour and watched the sunset. It was a bewitching experience. Only a 45 minute flight from Las Vegas, but it felt like a lifetime away. This was nature's Vegas, the earth's Strip. There was no need for artificial illuminations here, merely the enlivening glow of the morning sunrise and the soft autumnal changes of this beautiful evening sunset. I have never seen the colour red in some many different guises before. Quite simply breathtaking. No one really said anything as we watched the sun go down, it wasn't that kind of place. Afterwards we got back into the helicopter and headed back to Vegas which now twinkled far off in the distance.
Flying over Vegas at dusk on my last night of a 6-week tour of North America felt a little sad. It had been such a great trip. I remembered back to that first night in the icy cold reaches of the Maritimes in Eastern Canada. The many laughs and temperature changes I had travelling across Canada, with some of the nicest comedians and production staff I have ever worked with. I recalled fondly some of the beautiful old theatres we played along the way where you could really feel a sense of history, and I smiled as I remembered the cold election night in Winnipeg where we huddled together in a cosy bar and witnessed history. And this was the end of this journey swooping down over the impressively vulgar, and strangely enticing Vegas skyline. I put on my IPod and listened to my favourite track of the moment, 'American Tune' by Paul Simon (which was also one of the soundtracks to Obama's campaign.) I hoped to be back in the States again soon, although perhaps not to Las Vegas. When I got back to the hotel I packed up all my stuff, carefully wrapping each Celine Dion fridge magnet in plenty of tissue paper. I sat in my room for a while staring out of the window until I realised that I couldn't come all the way to Las Vegas and not have at least one gamble. So I picked up the phone and ordered the Clam Chowder.
Danny Bhoy.
*This is a very funny line. Please reread.
** Before I forget, tickets for my show next month at the Great Pyramids Comedy Festival go on sale January 2nd.