Somebody once sang a song entitled, "Leaving Las Vegas." How ironic, considering that is exactly what I am doing today. As I type I'm sitting at McCarran Aiport waiting to join the rest of my fellow passengers in "B" Group to board. I checked out some of the "A" Group and "C" Group, and all things being equal, I'm pretty psyched about my group. We may not have "A" Group's flash or "C" Group's swagger, but I think we've got a good, solid group and I'm looking forward to boarding with them.
Vegas, as always, was weird. Most of the audience didn't really know who we were, so I felt the need to temper my act a little bit. Conventioneers don't necessarily want to hear elephant rape jokes. Or maybe they do; I don't know. Did we play poker before the show? We did. Did we play poker after the show? We did. Did I stay up until five in the morning because I was playing poker? I'm going to leave to your imaginations.
Now we are off to San Diego for the final stop on the West Coast leg of our tour. And then tomorrow, thankfully, home.