The musical moments continue...

Has anyone noticed that I end every post title with dot dot dot? Whatever could this mean? Time to find a shrink... (there it is again!)

Buckwalter's coworker was gigging down at the Plaza last night and we went to check it out. It was awesome! First of all, this guy is a really fun drummer to watch -- and he came and chatted with us during the breaks, complete with rock-and-roll neccessities, cigarettes and absolut on the rocks. He is definitely one of those guys who probably imbibed in too many illegal substances during the high points in America, and now conversations, although very interesting and friendly, are speckled with 30 second pauses, where I think he may not be aware of how long the pauses are, or maybe even that they're happening. Actually, unaware isn't correct -- he just doesn't seem to notice or be phased by it.

The band, besides the drummer, was made up of some Philipino men in their 40's to 60's, and they were great showboaters. There we were, sitting at our little table in the Omaha Lounge at the Plaza, just feet from the blackjack tables, basking in our Cherry Bomb drinks (a specialty at the Omaha Lounge) and the singers were smiling, singing, having the crowd sing along, and even getting people to dance. We saw some awe-inspiring sights last night.
It was the Las Vegas Bike Fest, which made for some excellent people watching and some even better (or at least comprable) bike watching when outside. There were also some frat boy types that wandered by just when the band played "After the Lovin'" by the infamous (he's so famous he's "in" famous!) Engelbert Humperdinck. One of them very seriously (so seriously that he was either so drunk his brain wasn't working or he was so sober that...well, his brain wasn't working) walked up to one of the old women who was sitting at a table and asked her to dance with him which she did. It seems sweet, but I will admit that I was undecided on my feelings about it, because his buddies were laughing in the back and taking pictures with their cell phones but she was obviously enjoying herself, and he didn't crack a smile once. But she was wearing all black Lycra and must have been pushing 70 with dark black hair and a gold spangly belt with a mini skirt. It was strange, to say the least.
But Buckwalter and I both noted that we dragged the average age down by about 40 years. Most of the people there were between 70 and 80, leading me to wonder, "If we live here forever, will this someday become Buckwalter and myself?"
My guess is this picture is more accurate, but perhaps that's too sappy for most people. Not me!