It’s that time of the year. Not Thanksgiving, I’m still not sure I quite get that, and it isn’t Christmas just yet. It’s my annual pilgrimage, the one where my friend Kev and I revisit Nevada to see how our money has been spent. It was Thanksgiving whilst we were there, surprising how many Americans expressed a strong dislike, bordering on hatred, for turkey when I spoke to them. Not just turkey either as you’ll read in a moment. If you’re a regular to the blog you’ll know the drill. We’ve been going to Vegas annually, some years a biannual event, since 1995. There are those we’ve lost over the years who were part of the party, at some stage during proceedings there’ll be a toast to absent friends. This year it was sadly the turn of Kev’s mum Joan, though never there with us per se, she was always a member of the Vegas gang in spirit. She was a wonderful lady, that’s a fact, but what really endeared me to her was the generosity displayed when she insisted that we should have a nice dinner and she would be paying. Now that’s my kind of woman, or man for that matter. That said, Kev has often complained he had problems claiming back the expenses, particularly when she was into her nineties.
I’m not overly concerned with that, the richest man on the planet is in fact a car dealer and similarly Kev deals in cars. He’s not getting any financial sympathy and that’s the end of it. Speaking of dealing, cards not cars, before I set off there are always thoughts of how things are going to be, usually a different gambling plan than the last trip. Those plans are seldom a reflection of reality and never fail to disappoint. I look forward to visiting my happy place, The Hilton at Chicago O’Hare. We have a layover for a couple of hours before flying on to Vegas. We clear immigration, hand our luggage over and get out of the Terminal double quick. We know exactly how to reach the Chicago Hilton, to the extent that we take a lift/elevator that is rarely if ever used and known to very few. It delivers us almost to the front door. Then we have a few beers interspersed with a trips outside for a smoke. I love that place, perhaps it’s the Budweiser. Mostly it’s the feeling that we’ve cracked a huge part of the journey, we’re in the U.S., looking forward to Vegas and seeing if those well laid plans actually work. We need to learn from history or risk repeating it, right? We’re briefly switching to photography now, the gambling plans are always a complete mess.
Downtown Vegas has become exactly like my nearest city, Bath. That sounds insane, however I know exactly where the light will fall at a given time of day when I’m having a Street Photography session. It becomes predictable, as do the results. Exposing for the highlights is such a simple process. The results are attention grabbing for around five seconds and then there’s nothing. No story, not at all interesting but look pretty and therefore impossible to resist. Still talking about photography by the way! I vowed to try something different this trip...
The problem is that my street sessions in Vegas take place when I walk out to get my morning coffee. There isn’t a huge amount going on, very few people about. I’d like to try later in the day, but of course I have other things that require my attention. The first Bloody Mary to start with, and once that begins you’re not going to be carrying a camera around unless you want to lose it. And so I end up looking at light, because there isn’t much else. It can be chilly in the mornings in the desert, especially this time of the year. Often the shots I end up with are people stood in the sun merely warming up, we’ve seen a few of those already or the dreaded “just people walking along”
I began hoping for some diffused, cloudy weather. That would force me to look a little harder and prevent me from clicking those “just people stood the sun” shots, that kind of photo really ought to be banned for their banality. We’re in Vegas, it’s pretty much bright sun for most of the time, normally that’s a good thing. I can remember speaking with a taxi driver, he and his wife had moved to Vegas ten years previously and his big takeaway was that they’ve never been happier. The reason for that he told me was because of the light, waking up to those blue skies every day. I get that, he’d moved from a grey dreary State and I live in a very similar country. Everyone feels better with some sunshine? Well yes, apart from the street photographer I was incredibly unfortunate to capture below…
We took a couple of evening trips up to The Strip. One to the Paris where we have a gambling session followed by dinner (courtesy of Kev’s mum). The other to the Mirage which is quite an old casino, but we like it. I have happy memories of using the pool with another friend of mine and then slightly sunburnt hitting the poker tables for more pain. It was exceptionally busy and we like to sit at the bar, play Video Poker, the crack cocaine of gambling, drink more beers than we really need, talk more crap than is ever necessary, before eventually getting something to eat. No spots at any of the bars and so we headed next door to Treasure Island. I’ve never liked that place. Finding ourselves at a bar there were a couple of Alaskans next to us. They were young, very drunk and talking about fighting one moment, love and respect the next. One had a boat, I’m guessing they were fisherman, they weren’t fit in a gym sense, on a far different level. One of strength and fitness that comes only from hard graft that you aren’t going to get lifting weights or running around. As you might imagine testosterone levels were completely off the scale. Think about being on a trawler for months on end in the Bering Sea when one of them says “let’s go to Vegas for a week” when we get back to shore. Maybe they were in the Treasure Island because of the seafaring connotations. We had a couple of drinks and sloped off.
We found machines on the casino floor to play briefly. It’s notoriously difficult in many casinos to get a drink from the cocktail waitresses when you’re sat playing on machines, it’s the same at the card tables sometimes. One of those ‘free’ drinks whilst gambling that really cost you $100, it’s so annoying when you are loosing and can’t get one. The waitress came over a couple of times, really quickly it has to be said. I won a couple of hundred dollars. The waitress came back again and I said “no thanks we’re going”. On the way out I said to Kev “I don’t like the Treasure Island”. He replied: “What have they got to do? You had a couple of beers at the bar, another sat at the machine on the casino floor, the waitress was there every couple of minutes and you won”. “I still don’t like it”, “Neither do I” he said. A tough crowd to please, I just don’t like the feel of the place, though the Alaskans clearly loved it. I’m certain security would be throwing them out at some point, they’d have their work cut out for them I can assure you.
The two security officers above were Downtown, the Alaskans would need at least ten of those at an absolute minimum. Lots of security in Vegas and the U.S. in general appears to have a staggering amount of different agencies and forces. We always have a quick taxi out to the Paiute Tribe Smoke Shop to buy some tax free cigarettes. The tribe is a sovereign nation and we noticed behind the shop part of their territory, you’re not allowed in. Fronting it they had their own Police Station and half a dozen squad cars. I since read that there are in fact nine Paiute police officers, however only 67 tribal members, the officers themselves aren’t Paiute. Seems a lot of police. They also own three golf courses, so I’m guessing mostly they’re just patrolling their properties. Apparently they can still stop your car and arrest you if they wish anywhere outside of their territory. I thought that was interesting.
Also interesting is when you start speaking to people and the stuff they come out with. Strange how they tell you all sorts of things, there seems to be no control or moderation. They have no idea who I am, for a start my major dislike is any form of racism. It’s abhorrent, doesn’t hold up to any logical argument, I’ve always thought so. For example. I was sat at a bar and was told exactly how much a casino buffet took on Thanksgiving, it was $83,000 if you’re interested. Then how the same person couldn’t stand immigrants, detests them, though clearly he was one himself. I don’t get that, the whole country are essentially immigrants, ask the Paiute Tribe. I was sat outside an ice cream shop. Ridiculous because after an afternoon drinking beer following up with an ice cream ought to be the last thing you need. Anyway, two benches outside, the other was empty, but an elderly Hawaiian lady still decided it would be better to squeeze in next to me. We talked and it was interesting to a point, but then from nowhere she said “I hate the Golden Nugget and Fremont Street”. “Oh?” I replied. “Why’s that?”. She said “Too many black people, that’s why”. Just like that. Unbelievable!
As I walk along Fremont Street there’s always music playing, country and western mostly; “save a horse, ride a cowboy” always makes me laugh. Instead let’s steal a line about plans from Don McLean “All roads lead to where I stand. No matter what I may have planned”. We get what we get, photography or otherwise. We had a fabulous trip. Nothing seemed to bother me, I felt relaxed and happy. Even when I take into account those little problems that in the great scheme of things make little difference, seem so important, but once you learn to simply accept them really aren’t. When I left the U.K. my car was still languishing in a repair garage and the guttering/drain pipe had decided to detach itself from the house. That maintenance was easily sorted out whilst I was away. Kev has been lending me a car, albeit one that you have to walk up to properly otherwise it decides not to start, I feel merely for its own amusement. On the way home I left my phone, bank cards and driving licence in Chicago. Obviously that last one is a concern if you’re worried about identity theft, my view is that they’re welcome to my identity, I was thinking of getting a new one in any case! In the end there were plenty of highlights, some exposed others not. The gambling went fairly well and as I look through these photos they’re not that bad. You really can’t ask for much more than that.
All images can be opened by clicking on the thumbnails and are made using a Leica M with Summicron 28mm Lens fitted.
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