Head in the Sand ... and other unpopular positions by Linda M Au Page B
Authors: Linda M Au
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Erie.
What Happened in Vegas: A Diary: Part
Five
October 18, 2000
We’re hours away from leaving for the airport to come
home. We’ll probably be on Pacific Time till at least February.
Beyond that, we’ll have no excuse for our behavior, I guess.
A white stretch limousine arrived at the house
yesterday at two p.m. to take us the short distance to the wedding
chapel to renew our vows. Wayne was napping (okay, snoring )
till the limo arrived, so he spent most of the ceremony in a
confused daze—just like our original wedding. (Today he hopes it
was just a dream. I may let him continue to think that. It’s less
embarrassing for him.)
I’d never been in a stretch limo before. Inside were
a TV, VCR, champagne glasses and decanters (empty, though, in our
case, because I was too cheap to pay the extra fee), and plush
leather seats. We were met inside the door of the chapel by Elvis
himself. He was handsomely decked out in a fire-engine red,
sequined, bell-bottomed jumpsuit, and had jet-black sideburns and
swept-back hair. The phone rang, and the receptionist was busy with
our paperwork, so he nonchalantly answered the phone. Who knew
Elvis was so down-to-earth? So accessible to the common man. So . .
. secretarial.
We had to sign release forms for the live webcast.
Wayne balked a bit, asked how much he’d get paid for his
performance, but then finally signed. (I left him no choice.) I
heard him mumble something about a trip to Reno later, but
dismissed it as sleepiness.
We were then shown into the chapel and Elvis showed
us how to go through the motions smoothly. He pointed out the video
camera (for our personal videotape), and the Web camera. (We waved
a few times for anyone who was watching. People do log on there
randomly and watch, so we don’t know who saw it.) Sadly, we began
the ceremony about ten minutes before our prearranged time, so I
have no idea if people missed it because of that. Plus, there was
the whole RealPlayer fiasco. Don’t get me started.
The Hoss Challenge:
Today we got a request from Wayne. He decided that he
wanted to go back to Timber’s and try their Hoss Burger Challenge.
If you remember, that’s the 2½–3-pound burger as big as a dinner
plate, complete with tons of tomatoes, lettuce, cheese, sauce, etc.
The challenge was to eat two (yes, two) of these monsters in half
an hour (yes, half). He had to eat every bit, including the
condiments and bun. He had to sit at a separate table from anyone
else and be timed by the staff (synchronized down to the second).
The prize for this is $100, both burgers free, and your photo on
their Hall of Fame board.
He was allowed to do any cutting or arranging
beforehand, but couldn’t take any bites till he was told to. He cut
the burgers into quarters and got everything arranged.
GO!
He was right on schedule for the first half of the
first burger, which had to take no more than 7½ minutes. But, he
was at the 16-minute mark at the end of Burger 1, so we feared the
worst.
We didn’t know what to do. Should we cheer him on,
ignore him and talk in hushed tones behind his back, or go sit in
the car and pray that he not explode? We opted for sitting there
normally, but trying vainly to ignore him. He didn’t say much of
anything, didn’t even look at us till he hit the end of Burger 1 at
16 minutes. Uh-oh.
Things kinda went downhill from there. Chaos ensued,
and all hell broke loose. My memory might be a bit off, but I
vaguely remember someone losing consciousness, a small tow-truck,
paramedics, the fire department, a crane, several two-ton girders,
and someone saying, “Don’t go toward the light, Wayne . . . don’t
go toward the light!”
Well, okay, maybe I’m exaggerating. But he did
realize that it wasn’t gonna happen, and he (thankfully) slowed the
pace and tried instead to save face and not get too sick for the
car ride back home. It probably didn’t help when we stopped at a
store in 85-degree desert sun, and
What Happened in Vegas: A Diary: Part
Five
October 18, 2000
We’re hours away from leaving for the airport to come
home. We’ll probably be on Pacific Time till at least February.
Beyond that, we’ll have no excuse for our behavior, I guess.
A white stretch limousine arrived at the house
yesterday at two p.m. to take us the short distance to the wedding
chapel to renew our vows. Wayne was napping (okay, snoring )
till the limo arrived, so he spent most of the ceremony in a
confused daze—just like our original wedding. (Today he hopes it
was just a dream. I may let him continue to think that. It’s less
embarrassing for him.)
I’d never been in a stretch limo before. Inside were
a TV, VCR, champagne glasses and decanters (empty, though, in our
case, because I was too cheap to pay the extra fee), and plush
leather seats. We were met inside the door of the chapel by Elvis
himself. He was handsomely decked out in a fire-engine red,
sequined, bell-bottomed jumpsuit, and had jet-black sideburns and
swept-back hair. The phone rang, and the receptionist was busy with
our paperwork, so he nonchalantly answered the phone. Who knew
Elvis was so down-to-earth? So accessible to the common man. So . .
. secretarial.
We had to sign release forms for the live webcast.
Wayne balked a bit, asked how much he’d get paid for his
performance, but then finally signed. (I left him no choice.) I
heard him mumble something about a trip to Reno later, but
dismissed it as sleepiness.
We were then shown into the chapel and Elvis showed
us how to go through the motions smoothly. He pointed out the video
camera (for our personal videotape), and the Web camera. (We waved
a few times for anyone who was watching. People do log on there
randomly and watch, so we don’t know who saw it.) Sadly, we began
the ceremony about ten minutes before our prearranged time, so I
have no idea if people missed it because of that. Plus, there was
the whole RealPlayer fiasco. Don’t get me started.
The Hoss Challenge:
Today we got a request from Wayne. He decided that he
wanted to go back to Timber’s and try their Hoss Burger Challenge.
If you remember, that’s the 2½–3-pound burger as big as a dinner
plate, complete with tons of tomatoes, lettuce, cheese, sauce, etc.
The challenge was to eat two (yes, two) of these monsters in half
an hour (yes, half). He had to eat every bit, including the
condiments and bun. He had to sit at a separate table from anyone
else and be timed by the staff (synchronized down to the second).
The prize for this is $100, both burgers free, and your photo on
their Hall of Fame board.
He was allowed to do any cutting or arranging
beforehand, but couldn’t take any bites till he was told to. He cut
the burgers into quarters and got everything arranged.
GO!
He was right on schedule for the first half of the
first burger, which had to take no more than 7½ minutes. But, he
was at the 16-minute mark at the end of Burger 1, so we feared the
worst.
We didn’t know what to do. Should we cheer him on,
ignore him and talk in hushed tones behind his back, or go sit in
the car and pray that he not explode? We opted for sitting there
normally, but trying vainly to ignore him. He didn’t say much of
anything, didn’t even look at us till he hit the end of Burger 1 at
16 minutes. Uh-oh.
Things kinda went downhill from there. Chaos ensued,
and all hell broke loose. My memory might be a bit off, but I
vaguely remember someone losing consciousness, a small tow-truck,
paramedics, the fire department, a crane, several two-ton girders,
and someone saying, “Don’t go toward the light, Wayne . . . don’t
go toward the light!”
Well, okay, maybe I’m exaggerating. But he did
realize that it wasn’t gonna happen, and he (thankfully) slowed the
pace and tried instead to save face and not get too sick for the
car ride back home. It probably didn’t help when we stopped at a
store in 85-degree desert sun, and
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