Vegas is Branson on Steroids.

It has taken me a couple of days to recover and assess my whirlwind weekend in Las Vegas. But I now have a grip on the headlines….and I always share.

This was my second trip to Vegas….but the first for Carol. I would have bet the farm that she would not like Sin City. But I was wrong----she loved it. I probably should have factored in her admiration for Branson.

Vegas is Branson on steroids.

We chose to fit four days of activities into two-and-a-half. And that forced me to recognize----I am getting a little long in the tooth.

I am too cheap to gamble much. A couple of coins in a few slot machines were all I was willing to contribute. There ‘s way too much to do in this playground to anchor ones’ self at a slot machine or at a game table.

And besides….Vegas is the last vestige of the indoor smoker. If you are of the opinion that society is turning away from tobacco, just spend a couple of days around the casinos. They reek with smoke and I have to tell you….it bothered me. I remember working at a newspaper where seven of us shared an office and I was the only non-smoker. It didn’t seem to bother me then. But now….it just irked me to no end.

I also saw another trend when it came to the fairer sex. Many, many of them have invested in visits to doctors who specialize in augmentation. I didn’t go looking for this conclusion----it just seemed to become obvious in the bright lights of the desert.

We walked way too much. It might have been because I was too cheap…..or too worried about the quality of the taxis in Vegas. Next time----I will drive the rental car everywhere. It will end the constant struggle to “keep up with Carol,” who walks like a deer------quickly.

Finally, let me recommend the whole atmosphere of attending a rock concert with the rockers of one’s youth. We saw REO and Styx. REO and their lead singer, Kevin Cronin, rocked. Carol liked Styx. I didn’t think it is really Styx without Dennis DeYoung. My opinion….not shared by the speedy walker.

But here is the prime issue with going to a rock concert at age 54. You want to sit down. I wanted to----but we were right on the stage and everyone else was jumping up and down and flipping on their cell phone to mimic the lighters of the 1970s. I liked to stand for a few standards----but Jeez----stand for three hours? After abusing my feet walking behind Carol for a few dozen miles? It just wasn’t going to happen.

Earlier I mentioned Branson. Let me make a bold prediction. Sometime in the next five years, you will see REO or Styx in Branson fighting for the Bald Knobber dollar. 

And I will be there------trying to lift myself up out of my Scooter-----to show my appreciation for one last rendition of “Ridin’ the Storm Out.”

They say what goes on in Vegas----stays there.

But once REO makes the transition to Branson----the slogan will be altered…and move about a thousand miles east.

“What goes on in Branson------is buried there.”