This album is a bit late making it’s way online, but I think the pictures are worth the wait! Shannon and her mother Susan were able to explore Venice for about 3 days.
From the sun baked golden buildings to the busy canals it looks like a fantastic and thriving city.
Ever wait forever in a traffic jam, only to find that when you finally get clear there was no apparent reason for it? You might have experienced a phantom traffic jam. William Beaty performs some traffic experiments and talks quite eloquently about how to help the situation.
I distinctly recall my father, while on our annual pilgrimage to the east coast, always did what he called “pacing”. Being a mathematically (and otherwise) intelligent man I think he came to the same conclusion that others have: a smooth flowing line of traffic will move more cars.
So if you find yourself stuck in a jam, try to leave some extra space in front of you - by doing so you will allow your braking to be less severe and thus cause fewer people behind you to spread the wave of stopped traffic backward.
Shannon and I will be spending a relaxed Thanksgiving with her parents out on the east coast. While we’re away we will probably not be able to post, so don’t expect much to change until next Monday.
Happy Thanksgiving!
For our second night of “clubbing” in Vegas we headed over to Pure, a very trendy club at Caesars Palace. Naturally Paris and Nicky were there - this time they were celebrating Nicky’s 23rd birthday. We (and by “we” I mean hundreds of other club patrons and our group) sang happy birthday to Nicky, gave her a toast, watched a slideshow of some family pictures, and saw her open her presents (she got a nice diamond-crusted watch from her sister).
After all the birthday formalities Paris got on the mic (with her bunny ears on) and sang her song “Stars are Blind“, which is an abysmal testament to all that is bad with pop culture. I must admit that Paris looks rather skeletal in all the photos I have seen, but in person she is quite attractive and seemed fun.
The club has many different rooms, each with their own theme and color scheme, so even if my eyes were blurry I would have at least known where in the club I was. They also have an outside deck upstairs which allowed for a nice open space to breath. There were gobs of beautiful people dancing and everyone seemed to be having the times of their lives, which made for a very fun and exciting evening.
We had two big party nights in Vegas - the first was at Tangerine, a pretty hip club at Treasure Island (I’ll talk about the other night in another post).
We had prearranged to have a table and thus were able to bypass the line of several hundred people, which in retrospect is really the best way to experience these clubs. That’s not to say we avoided any wait, but it’s better than the 4 hours other people had to endure.
There were six of us, so the total cost of the table was reasonable. The table itself was in a separate room, behind more bouncers, and included two bottles of liquer and unlimited mixers. We also had our own little waitress and a huge hawaiian bouncer called Cena. The view was nice, with the club on one side (pic above) and the strip on the other.
But we weren’t the only ones at the club that night: Paris and Nicky Hilton stopped by with their entourage. There was a carpet and picture backdrop set up and everything, which is exciting (I guess).
Actually I was much more excited to see Kevin Connolly (aka Eric from Entourage), who is Paris Nicky’s boyfriend and was also partying at Tangerine. We never got close enough to talk, but we decided that the best thing to say if we were ever in earshot would be “Hey, tell Sloan I say ‘What’s Up’”.
I’m back from a crazy bachelor party in beautiful Las Vegas - stories will be posted soon, just tired now and going to sleep.
My wife is currently in Rome, which is known for (among other things) having the very foundation of the Catholic church: the Vatican. Naturally, as fate would have it, I will be heading to Las Vegas (a.k.a. Sin City) this weekend for a bachelor party.
Two things I know:
- God has a sense of humor.
- God may not play dice, but I will!
There is something magical about truck stops. They aren’t magical in the Disney sense - anyone who has ever used a truck stop restroom can certainly understand why - but they do possess a certain level of mystery and worldliness that permeates my love for a good road trip.
Truck stops exist mostly to serve truck drivers; they also provide a place where people of all social classes can intermingle. If alcohol is the universal solvent for people in social situations then truck stops are a universal magnet bringing diverse people together in the first place (if only for a moment).
I am not saying that I love truck stops, nor that I would want to live next to one. Each of my visits are brief and metered by the time it takes to fill an empty tank. Indeed, it is probably this transient relationship with truck stops that allows my fascination to continue.
Particularly during childhood trips to the east coast, when we would stop late at night, I would marvel at the showers for truckers, the bin of old cassette tapes, the pre-packaged cherry pie wedges, and the greasy spoon restaurant dotted with weary travelers. Even at the age of 27 this subculture of living on the road still draws out my curiosity and engages my imagination.
We have arrived safe and sound back in Chicago; it was wicked sweet to spend a week with family out east, but now it’s back to life in the Midwest.
Man, road-tripping sure does take it’s toll… and we haven’t even begun our 7-hour trek from Rhode Island to Maine yet! Here’s a pic of Shannon snoozing on our drive from Pawcatuck, CT to Cumberland, RI.
Hope she doesn’t kill me for posting this!
