I was scrambled like eggs when I landed, got the rental car, and finally checked into the room after what seemed an eternity of walking, standing in line, walking, standing in line, sitting, then more walking and more standing in line.
I always feel like a cow being herded when I participate in air travel even though I have to admit, reluctantly, that at this point in my life, it is getting much easier for me to handle these normal parts if living, be the grace of God; I would have used the phrase herded like sheep there but I am far too large and stubborn to be a sheep so cow seemed to fit nicely.
Early in sobriety, it drove me nuts all the walking, waiting, line ups at every position, hostile custom agents, snotty stewards and stewardesses, and those smiling, smirking, smug sob’s in first class as I made my way past them –sometimes careful not to smack them in the face with my lap top bag while they drank their free cocktails and ate their pre-boarding meals…I digress.
This time I walked by them smiling, nodding, and whispering pleasantries about their trip even though secretly my brain developed multiple scenarios in which I had their seats and status – none of those ideas had anything to do with me earning it.
These images make me laugh because an airplane is much like our class system in North America or anywhere for that matter; although there are those who maintain there is no class system in North America – and we all know how class systems are overthrown… revolution.
Sometimes I am pretty certain that my mind is lost.
I digress.
Head from my ass, you ask! I had no idea where I was at when I first sat down on the bed so I walked, and then I walked some more.
I came back to the room for some rest and hopefully a nap but USC was playing in Colorado so I got undressed and lay atop the king sized bed watching the flat screen and zoning out to the lack luster commentary.
Within a few minutes I clicked the lap top on and stared at the blank page wondering why the words seemed to bunch up at the frontal lobe and leave me hanging when I tried to touch fingers to the keys.
I needed a mass amount of stimulation this evening; it was too quiet in the room, television on, music in my ear phones, and the screen glaring my reflection back to me while I poised with fingers at the ready! Finally I dozed when it was obvious the Trojans were going to trounce the buffaloes from the Rocky Mountains...
Stand by…
What would a Vegas rant be without at the least a reflection to Hunter S. Thompson and his path-burning literary accomplishment that is Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas amongst many other pieces?
Would they even know I was ever here?
I wondered as I drove past a Food for Less and imagined beating my rented Mustang convertible with hammers, grapefruits, and running a shopping cart into it while screaming “You people voted for Hubert Humphrey…” shaking a fist in the air,“and you killed Jesus!"
They would not understand…
Luckily in sobriety I have better impulse control than that because had I been pumped full of chemicals and my absolute worst enemy liquor, I may have gathered several shady individuals and we may have taken out our Wall Street Blues on the poor beast of a car.
I did not go through with the wonderful scene of chaos and catastrophe from his book. Instead, I laughed out loud in the car when the images flashed through my mind’s eye - me and my closest strangers doing every part of it, in fact, I just laughed out loud alone in my room to the same thought.
Awe Hunter, you died too young but honestly, I am not sure you could have done it any differently. Rest in peace my distant friend, inspiration, and kindred spirit. I will miss you; knowing you will never write another sentence or mutter another half audible phrase into a microphone leaves me a bit cold on this early morning in the Nevada desert.
Now it is my first morning here, awoken by the sound of a criminally loud car alarm and two hookers yelling at each other in the hallways about splitting the pay because they both did equal labor (I cleaned up the language and dialect because I was sleepy and only got a sense of their conversation).
When I wandered by them to have a cigarette in the lobby, I whispered that it would be ok, half and half was fair or something like that. They did not respond even though I smiled a toothy grin and waved. They just stared at the back of my head; I know that feeling, but they might never know my heart was with them and my past too.
It was hard work and I respect them for it and weep for their need and/or perceived need to do it; maybe there needs to be a union, I thought, but quickly forgot my head, as I sat down and lit my smoke.
It was a Pink Floyd morning thereafter; the mind in a fog, the body in a calm zombie like state, and my eyes bloodshot but sharp.
Soon there would be golf folks…but first the urge to run and chase the sunrise hits me like a lightning bolt and I’m off with camera strapped beneath my hoodie. Weaving and bobbing through the lobby, past the Starbucks coffee counter, shit, stop to check the line, way too long!
My time frame is dwindling with which to catch that moment just as the sun pops above the crest of the eastern peaks overlooking the Primm Valley desert plain…
Yes, just in time, as I round the corner of the massive outlet mall which is attached to the casino proper…there it is…I am off for the rest of the day… by the grace of God I go, thank you Lord for every blessing in my life and there are many. Thank you for the sunrise, which tells me many things, most important perhaps, I will have more opportunity to serve my fellows.
Thank you,
David Lewry
I always feel like a cow being herded when I participate in air travel even though I have to admit, reluctantly, that at this point in my life, it is getting much easier for me to handle these normal parts if living, be the grace of God; I would have used the phrase herded like sheep there but I am far too large and stubborn to be a sheep so cow seemed to fit nicely.
Early in sobriety, it drove me nuts all the walking, waiting, line ups at every position, hostile custom agents, snotty stewards and stewardesses, and those smiling, smirking, smug sob’s in first class as I made my way past them –sometimes careful not to smack them in the face with my lap top bag while they drank their free cocktails and ate their pre-boarding meals…I digress.
This time I walked by them smiling, nodding, and whispering pleasantries about their trip even though secretly my brain developed multiple scenarios in which I had their seats and status – none of those ideas had anything to do with me earning it.
These images make me laugh because an airplane is much like our class system in North America or anywhere for that matter; although there are those who maintain there is no class system in North America – and we all know how class systems are overthrown… revolution.
Sometimes I am pretty certain that my mind is lost.
I digress.
Head from my ass, you ask! I had no idea where I was at when I first sat down on the bed so I walked, and then I walked some more.
I came back to the room for some rest and hopefully a nap but USC was playing in Colorado so I got undressed and lay atop the king sized bed watching the flat screen and zoning out to the lack luster commentary.
Within a few minutes I clicked the lap top on and stared at the blank page wondering why the words seemed to bunch up at the frontal lobe and leave me hanging when I tried to touch fingers to the keys.
I needed a mass amount of stimulation this evening; it was too quiet in the room, television on, music in my ear phones, and the screen glaring my reflection back to me while I poised with fingers at the ready! Finally I dozed when it was obvious the Trojans were going to trounce the buffaloes from the Rocky Mountains...
Stand by…
What would a Vegas rant be without at the least a reflection to Hunter S. Thompson and his path-burning literary accomplishment that is Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas amongst many other pieces?
Would they even know I was ever here?
I wondered as I drove past a Food for Less and imagined beating my rented Mustang convertible with hammers, grapefruits, and running a shopping cart into it while screaming “You people voted for Hubert Humphrey…” shaking a fist in the air,“and you killed Jesus!"
They would not understand…
Luckily in sobriety I have better impulse control than that because had I been pumped full of chemicals and my absolute worst enemy liquor, I may have gathered several shady individuals and we may have taken out our Wall Street Blues on the poor beast of a car.
I did not go through with the wonderful scene of chaos and catastrophe from his book. Instead, I laughed out loud in the car when the images flashed through my mind’s eye - me and my closest strangers doing every part of it, in fact, I just laughed out loud alone in my room to the same thought.
Awe Hunter, you died too young but honestly, I am not sure you could have done it any differently. Rest in peace my distant friend, inspiration, and kindred spirit. I will miss you; knowing you will never write another sentence or mutter another half audible phrase into a microphone leaves me a bit cold on this early morning in the Nevada desert.
Now it is my first morning here, awoken by the sound of a criminally loud car alarm and two hookers yelling at each other in the hallways about splitting the pay because they both did equal labor (I cleaned up the language and dialect because I was sleepy and only got a sense of their conversation).
When I wandered by them to have a cigarette in the lobby, I whispered that it would be ok, half and half was fair or something like that. They did not respond even though I smiled a toothy grin and waved. They just stared at the back of my head; I know that feeling, but they might never know my heart was with them and my past too.
It was hard work and I respect them for it and weep for their need and/or perceived need to do it; maybe there needs to be a union, I thought, but quickly forgot my head, as I sat down and lit my smoke.
It was a Pink Floyd morning thereafter; the mind in a fog, the body in a calm zombie like state, and my eyes bloodshot but sharp.
Soon there would be golf folks…but first the urge to run and chase the sunrise hits me like a lightning bolt and I’m off with camera strapped beneath my hoodie. Weaving and bobbing through the lobby, past the Starbucks coffee counter, shit, stop to check the line, way too long!
My time frame is dwindling with which to catch that moment just as the sun pops above the crest of the eastern peaks overlooking the Primm Valley desert plain…
Yes, just in time, as I round the corner of the massive outlet mall which is attached to the casino proper…there it is…I am off for the rest of the day… by the grace of God I go, thank you Lord for every blessing in my life and there are many. Thank you for the sunrise, which tells me many things, most important perhaps, I will have more opportunity to serve my fellows.
Thank you,
David Lewry