faulker009

For those of you who have never been to Las Vegas, I’ve got two little words for you... DON’T DO IT! Oh, three little words. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE LAS VEGAS. For about eight hours at a time. Any more than that and you are guaranteed to have a nervous breakdown. Going to college in Los Angeles, we used to make many a spur-of-the-moment trip to Sin City. We would do the four-hour drive, in closer to three, always stopping in Barstow for a burger. We’d spend all night gambling.   Grab a half-pound kosher dog at Slots O’Fun for 99 cents. Nutrition is important. And drive home with nothing in our pockets. Almost every time. It was the one in ten where you actually won something that motivated you to come back. Kinda like that great eight-iron shot on 13 during your round of 107. We were clearly ignoring the odds and the fact that the hotels were getting bigger each time we went back. I love gambling. I love the slots.  I love the tables.  I love the sports book. But the g...

I’ve always considered myself a bit of a comedian. I’ll never forget the time in 5th grade, when a girl told me I could be the next Mork. Note: for those of you under 30, without Mork (and Mindy), we would’ve never met Mrs. Doubtfire or Patch Adams. I really do love making people laugh, but I have never had it in me to do it in front of an audience. I couldn’t imagine doing stand-up comedy, but I would love to write the jokes. In comedy, there is something referred to as a callback, that’s when a joke in the standup set refers to one previously told earlier in the routine. Well, where better than Las Vegas for me to LIVE a comedy callback. (Insert harp music and the slow flashback dissolve.) Wednesday night, we departed for Sin City, all five of us, to watch my 12-year old daughter perform in her national dance event. Two years ago it was in Cincinnati, last year Orlando, this year Las Vegas. With that kind of upgrade rate, I’m thinking Bora Bora could be next. Th...