Archive for September, 2009
You know, I just laughed even writing that title.
Have you been there lately? The place is not exactly set up for person who doesn’t have money to spend. Or lose.
I started going to Las Vegas back in the early 1990s. I remember when the Excalibur Hotel was the tail end of the strip, and there was not much else around it. Downtown had no Fremont Street experience, and it was advisable to be packing when you went down there. I also remember walking into Ceasar’s Palace before they built the mall, and being quoted $45 for a night’s stay. I also remember trying to decide if I wanted to splurge on that room, or if finding the Super 8 for $19.99 and saving those precious dollars for the $2 Blackjack table was a better idea.
One day some of the powers that be decided that Vegas could be “family friendly”. They started building more and more giant themed resorts with world class amenities, things to occupy and satisfy all ages and lifestyles, and when people started coming, they started moving the prices up.
Today, though the Strip has gotten longer, the hotels have gotten even bigger, there are more rooms in Las Vegas than there are poker chips. They decided that Disneyworld is for the families, and have returned to their Sin City roots. On a Saturday night you can barely find a seat at a table, and if you find Blackjack for less than $15 a hand, you had better sneak a picture, because no one will believe you. And the only people who don’t pay $250 a night on the weekend are the locals, and the whales.
For those who may not know, a whale is someone who gambles big, and is treated like royalty when they come to play. Comp’ed flights, limos, rooms, and more food and alcohol than the seven deadly sins advise. Whales are the stuff of legend for some people, but I happen to know two.
So this weekend I was treated to a bachelor party for a really nice guy, hosted by two whales. I lived a piece of their lives for 4 days, and in the process, may have ruined this city for myself by setting the bar for Las Vegas stays incomprehensibly high for a bluecollar fellow like me.
So I learned that you can’t do Vegas for $1 a Day…I know, shocker. Maybe I should have titled this post “What you bring to Vegas Stays in Vegas”.
Unless………you win.
Interested to know how the whales roll? Tomorrow I’ll give you a look at some of my trip highlights, wins, losses, and guppie mistakes. Including video. I smell a subpoena.

COPYRIGHT HALFTIME LESSONS 2008, 2009
All rights reserved. This content may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means, without the prior written permission of the author.
As I was washing my daughter’s face recently, she stared at me intently. Obviously concerned and formulating a question, she finally found the courage to ask,
“Daddy, what are those lines on your head?”
She was referring to simple brow lines, of course, but the fact that they deepened when I concentrated, or was angry, finally gave her the courage to ask about these troubling marks. The wonderful skin that her mother had given her seemed to now be her benchmark, and Daddy looked different.
“You know, honey, when you get older, you start to get lines on your face that show how old you are. And how smart.” And after sufficiently tickling her to let her know I was just being playful, she moved back to more comfortable conversation for a 5 year old, mostly potty humor.
But, it’s out there. I’m showing some age.
Years ago I took a trip to the Bahamas with my three best friends, and spent a top five day on a $15 booze cruise. On that day, Tommie, the most good natured and outgoing of my crew, struck up a conversation with a middle-aged couple from New York, Bob and Terry. Tommie was always talking to strangers, but I remembered thinking that on a boat full of young, attractive, drunk women, Tommie managed to find the 50-something couple with the Jersey shore tans and kids in college.
A couple of years later, Tommie mentioned Bob and Terry again, and I recall being increduled that not only had he traded contact info with them, he had stayed in touch with them all this time.
So fast forward with me to present day. Last month my wife and I managed to get away to Vegas for a few days minus the kids, something we had not been able to do in over 5 years. We got an upgraded room and some special attention thanks to a close friend, went out to dinner, and got up when we wanted. For a couple who had been tortured with 3am awakenings by our daughter for years, this proved to be a heavenly break, and a chance to simply act like a couple for a few days.
Having decided not to spend much time gambling, we got up each day, headed down for a leisurely breakfast, and then headed out to Mandalay Bay’s stunning collection of pools. And after a couple of days worth of poor pool selection, we finally honed in on a corner of the property that was our speed.
As our skin bubbled in the desert sun, we sat in the pool, and began chatting with a young couple, roughly in their mid 20s. They were attractive, clearly smitten with each other, and infectious. And after making each other laugh a few times, I waited for one of them to start making those uncomfortable motions indicating a departure. But they didn’t. They stayed. And we stayed. And ten minutes turned into an hour, and then into five, until the sun chased us back into the airconditioning.
We parted ways that afternoon, but made plans to meet up late that night for a drink up in The Foundation Room, where we again had a great time enjoying the view and talking. We finally left them that night after trading contact info and promising to keep in touch. Just really fantastic people. Young, energetic and full of love and optimism, already with entertaining and interesting life stories to share, with their whole promising lives in front of them. The wives ultimately had to pull the husbands apart at the end of the evening, we were having a hard time tying up our conversation.
The next day I thought a lot about them, and something my wife asked while on a bathroom break from the pool the day before.
“Don’t you feel old?”
I didn’t. And I don’t. I still feel like I’m 22, and most of the time, act like it. But my daughter’s concerned look about the lines on my head and my wife’s question got me thinking about this wonderful couple we met again.
Because I’m Bob, of Bob and Terry from New York, in this equation.
I’m convinced of it. Age is really only a state of mind. Even if your body is failing you and your face wears the roadmap of the places you’ve been. If you have been doing it right, your inner self is a collection of your experience and the proof that over the years you have become the best you.
Life’s greatest irony. You become the best you right before you die.
Fantastic to meet you, Jason and Lauren. Please keep us up on your lives, and put us down for dinner when you come through Dallas. Please feel free to review some of what I have written about parenting anytime you need effective birth control.
Oh Sweet Mary take me.
If my son tells me he has to go potty one more time, and then proceeds to sit down, let fly ONE DROP, and then ask for a jelly bean, I am gonna make “going postal” look like a geriatric badminton match.
I love that he is interested in the project, I admire his desire to use his God-given tool, now that he knows it has a use other than tugging.
But I am a selfish human male, and there is only so much I can take.
But then, I just think about that kid, and he keeps making me smile and forget how much I want to throw every fucking potty into the middle of the cul-de-sac.

Welcome to Sunday Citar! This blog quote meme was created by Tabitha @ FreshMommy. You can stop by her blog to see the quotes and photos that she and everyone else is loving right now.

COPYRIGHT HALFTIME LESSONS 2008, 2009
All rights reserved. This content may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means, without the prior written permission of the author.
This article was first published last week in DFW’s NeighborsGo publication, and on BurbMom.net. Today it is used as my offering for Fatherhood Friday. Let’s see how many uses we can get out o’ this puppy.
Somewhere today a kid is stepping onto a playing field. Her first soccer game in her speedy pink shoes, his first freshman at-bat. And that standout day will be punctuated in some cases not by how well your child played, but by how you led them to the field.
We have all seen the stories in the news, tragic in some cases, about parents who went too far. And yet, most of us consider those cautionary tales as extreme, and nothing like what actually happens at our kids’ games. I gotta tell you, though, some of the rest of you aren’t impressing us much either.
Do you remember what it felt like to be eight years old, standing on that mound? On that field? Were you standing there wondering what flavor slush you would get after the game, or were you sick with worry about what your Dad would say about the grounder you fumbled? Or if he’d start trouble with that guy in the stands. Again.
It’s been awhile, I know. Maybe 20 years? maybe 30? You didn’t get picked, you struck out. One second, one lapse in concentration and that ball went sailing by, much like your youth. I hope for the sake of the relationship you have with your child that you finally realize this cold hard fact. It is no longer your turn to play. It’s his.
I’ve heard some of your pathetic arguments. Competition builds inner strength and commitment. Scholarships aren’t given to the weak and carefree. Talent is wasted without focus. I have news for you. If you put that kid on that field, he will learn with your help, or without it. And he will love you for your guidance and encouragement, or hate you for being the embarrassment at the game instead of the father who should have been.
Sports didnt get hyper-competitive, my friend, you did. You invented the two-a-day, the club team, and the smack-talk. Sports turned into stepping stones for higher education, revenue generators for schools, proving grounds for respect and adoration, and the place where parent-child relationships went on the disabled list.
Rein it in. Pull it back.
I know this is tough to accept, but this isn’t your turn at bat, it’s his. If he catches the ball it won’t make up for the one you dropped. The only thing you can do to help that kid now is to develop his sportsmanship, and pure love of the game. The good news is that after all these years, you will get to play this time. And you can play really well, or you can really strike out. The only way the “w” in the win column will be yours today, however, is if your child feels your pride and encouragement no matter what happens at the plate.
Your kid and I are both hoping you’ll just do your best, and have fun.


COPYRIGHT HALFTIME LESSONS 2008, 2009
All rights reserved. This content may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means, without the prior written permission of the author.
I kinda missed Tuesday’s Tribute. I only do them from time to time anymore, but certainly when I came across No Time For Flashcards recently, I knew it was a well deserved Tribute opp.
In my current wild and blinding Twitter addiction I recently was adding folks left and right to follow those who seemed to have something special, in the hopes of developing some new relationships and growing my Twitter following. That is to say, I was looking for people who seemed to make their 140 characters really hum. And I came across a woman named Allison who everyone seemed to know but me.
After a little investigation of her website, I realized I had found a gem…she has a fantastic blog, an amazing personality, and a very large following. Turns out I am last to know. Again.
Allie’s blog is a wonderful collection of reviews, craft projects, parenting advice, activities, and my personal favorite, songs. You see, she sings them…on video…and they are infectious.
Now, poor Allie thinks I’m a stalker, I’m sure. Because I have been tweeting about her, talking about her blog, and now here’s a Tribute from some random guy on the internet.
I promise I’m not sitting outside your house in the rain with a drenched candle.
I just wanted you to know that the fun that my kids and I had together tonight was because of the work you have done.
So, Thanks Allie. And please ask around…I’m odd, but no psycho.
Allie’s Blog: http://www.notimeforflashcards.com
Allie’s Twitter: @NoFlashCards
ONE MORE THING!!! My friend Em is starting her Comments for Cans drive today over at Life, Liberty and The Pursuit. PLEASE go see her, leave a comment, and make sure you’re following her blog!!

COPYRIGHT HALFTIME LESSONS 2008, 2009
All rights reserved. This content may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means, without the prior written permission of the author.





