Where have You Been Great Zambonio?

Thank you for asking this, and in the immortal words of the timeless sage L.L. Cool J, don’t call it a comeback. I was in Vegas, and I see many miracles, and eat some of them too.

I see a show with many tigers, even one of the 15 last great White Tigers, and this show is not in mighty room but in small space seating one hundred people and afterward the showman signs posters in the lobby with his one showgirl assisstant. This to me is pure theatre with heart. This man is Dirk Arthur and his “Wild magic” is at O’Shea’s. I know I had not heard of this place neither like you.

I touched Elvis on Fremont street who is singing with his brother who is also Elvis, and I explain to my two children of Zamboni, but little Zamboni boy junior still very confused, “then why do they say he has left the building?” I tell him life is simple but the life of Elvis not so.

I split New York steak of supreme flavor at the Golden Steer. A place you will drive right past because the outside does not tell you of the plush red and black leather and oil paintings of beautiful cows of the inside booths where Frank and Dino and Bugsy used to eat.

I see fountains of Bellagio shoot in sky for free with light and popping explosions and ballet of water sprays and even experience the miracle of Celine Dion song turned into hydropoetry not inducing nausea but actually beautiful.

I see a mindreader predict all the answers the audience person will give. I am in Venice at night even if it is during the day, I see zombie-eyed tourist taken in gondola past Abercrombie and Fitch and Mario Batali makes my pizza and the  local ingredient is Pahrump Honey because nothing much else grows in a 100 mile radius where it is dry like Mars. Driving to vegas you do not pass anything and you are driving toward that same mountain for two hours and your mind starts thinking too much with nothing to measure the time and the outside  temperature gauge climbing to 107 degrees.

And in the 100 degree night we watch the balls of fire erupting from the Mirage, every hour after 8pm. We feel the heat flash on our face as the tribal drums pound and I wonder why don’t the palm trees burn up?

They said the tigers were so close “they can smell your fear” but they seemed calm, so I guess we have no fear.

And still, Zamboni has never lost yet in Roulette.

You are surprised?