So I'm here a year now. First 12 months was survival and transition. But all the while, I was taking notes, struggling to stay in the present moment. As I became more aware of my insides, the outside took on a new dimension. This is my tender, perhaps trite, observation and exaltation of the who and what that have crossed my path, made a mark and moved the pen. They may be fighting on the sands of Falujua and in the grandstands of Detroit, but here in Las Vegas, it's peace and love, dudes.
Parking It's free, everywhere. Concerts, restaurants, casinos, temples, churches, bars, banks, public buildings ... you name it, there is no charge to plant your vehicle for a minute or four hours.
LA is a parking gangbang. Five-buck valets for dinner, two bucks every ten minutes at the dentist's office. If you're in for a root canal, your wallet will need a shot of Novocain. I'll bet I've saved $200 on parking alone this year.
Race Books My brother and I grew up around Santa Anita and Hollywood Park. Being there, up close to the magnificent beasts, instilled in us the spirit of the sport o' Kings. But there is nothing as cool and comfortable as hanging out for three or four hours, reading Racing Forms and playing six or eight different tracks around the country. Bro and I love the divey, no-frills book at the Rampart Casino in Summerlin. But since recently relocating to homey Henderson, we've already paid our first visit to the Green Valley Ranch facility. The flag is up!
The Book Magician I wrote about pulp proprietor Cheryl Agrellas and her magical store in these pages last year. Outside of The Strand on Broadway in Manhattan, this is my favorite hard- and softcover haberdasher in the world. LA's Bodhi Tree used Annex comes close, but they don't have the eclectic volume of titles.
Oscar Goodman I come from a city with a string of coma-inducing mayors all the way back to the cartoonish Sam Yorty. I was a kid, but even then I knew he was a moron.
Las Vegas, however, has a standup comic, former mob litigator, Hebrew bro, flirt, visionary and tireless mensch. He's a reality show waiting to happen. How 'bout The O.G.?
Bally's Spa My first week here, bleeding from every emotional orifice and then some, my best desert friend, Nick, walked me into this steamy sanctuary, introduced me to a dark-skinned, saintly gent named Ernest, and effectively saved my life. Working out proved to be cathartic and healing, as were the long chats with Mr. E., who runs the spa with an authentic sense of care and humanity. This isn't a spa, it's more like home.
Traffic Let me get right to the point here: You don't have traffic, Las Vegas—not compared to the internal-combustible Armageddon I hail from. I spent at least three of my 47 LA years on the 405 between the San Fernando Valley and the west side. There is no city more locked in bumper-to-bumper Hell than Los Angeles. There's a fender-bender on the northbound 15 at Sahara and traffic is moving quite slow into the Spaghetti Bowl. That's it? I'll take D.I.
Red Rock Canyon While Bally's was saving my body, the most divine 13-mile drive in the western U.S. was saving my soul. I lived at Town Center and Charleston for my first year and could behold my own personal Sinai out my kitchen window. Meditative drives and crossed-legged sessions beneath the Juniper Tree turnout—the highest point on the magical trek—took me out of my shit and into my truth on more occasions that I can recall. I've beheld nature's great architecture from Fuji to Dover. Red Rock ranks as one of the most breathtaking primordial enclaves anywhere on the Earth.
Whole Foods market on Charleston They've got these health-food emporiums all over LaLa, but this exceptional store this is the holistic mother ship. I spent several afternoons putting good eats into my system while sitting outside reading enlightening prose, glancing up frequently from the page to appreciate the unending parade of awakened, firm-bodied angels pouring in and out of the organic oasis. The salad bar is insane.
Blue Man Group I'd seen it twice. It blew my mind both times. I fell in love with the show's resident director, Carrie Hanson, who ended my post-divorce self-imposed monk-style existence with the biggest bang since the universe began. Praise the Lord and pass the Twinkies.
Golf A round at Rancho Park in LA, six blocks from where I used to live, would take six hours on a weekend. Getting a start time is like winning the lottery. Clark County, on the other hand, is a golfer's wet dream. From the pastoral and uncorrupted Pauite Indian reservation to the north, to Primm Valley at the border, to Boulder Creek and Revere to the east, to the umpteen awesome tracks of Summerlin to the west, locals play for decent rates on emerald links with mountain vistas that make the dimpled balls and Nicklaus-bred hearts soar. My bro and I love teeing it up late afternoon, $25 twilight, at the sweet and steady silver-haired Sun City courses, Highland Falls and Palm Valley, where we're guaranteed to hear the magic words, "Nice drive, young fella," several times a round.
The Luxor Beam It is the beacon by which we find our way around this wide-eyed wonderland. And when there is "weather," talk about cosmic. I stared one stormy night for an hour into the air above the modern-marvel pyramid as the light danced about the bellowing black cotton. You can see it from space, they say. Inner and outer.
Dr. Randall Robirds There is small, unassuming little office that falls under the name Applied Health Dynamics in a nondescript concrete building on Decatur, where inside dwells a wizard with powers far beyond those our confused race could ever muster. He sees inside your DNA and helps you clear your being of the dark and illusory stuff that no longer serves you. He's expensive; but what price health and happiness?
We Will Rock You The production is loud and sexy, and you sing along more than you have since, well, Grease, which costarred my high school pal, Mimi Lieber, who I saw at my 30th reunion last July, and she is still hot! The show is a silly, symphonic blast for big-hearted lovers of one of the greatest bands in the history of rock.
Samuel's Deli I didn't think there was a decent kosher deli in this town until my dad took me to Samuel's. Now I live eight minutes away, and they already know me by name. The best corned beef in the West, bar none, and an amazing Manhattan clam chowder, the consistency of which boggles the taste buds. For under eight bucks, get the soup and half sandwich special; their half is bigger than most place's whole.
Bellagio Fountains I'd change the music; play some old Yes or Genesis, Pink Floyd.
The Trash Collector In LA, if your garbage isn't entirely inside the cans and on the perfect, designated spot on the curb, you're outta luck. These guys have attitudes like bouncers at the backstage door. Not true here. I've left boxes, overflowing Hefty bags, even an old washing machine on the Green Valley sidewalk, and our denizens of disposal swept it all away without batting an eye. I would suggest, however, that the city does take one lesson from L.A. and institute a more aggressive recycling program; one big blue can for all paper, plastic and tin articles. Gather up all the recyclables for a year, melt 'em down and build some massive, Watts Tower-like piece of sociocultural art on that empty 60 acres Downtown.
Evening In LA, the only stars you see at night are on the streets of Beverly Hills. Do not take the beauty of the desert sky for granted. Yeah, the city is growing, but that has not removed the twinkle from the night canopy. And if you're too close to the neon to get a good look, hop in your car. You're 20 minutes from Red Rock. Once a month, the telescope nerds come out. I hung with 'em the night last year when five planets were visible at one time. Saturn's a trip. So is Las Vegas. I think I'll stay awhile.