Three hours after falling asleep around 7 am, I was back up and seriously thinking about just renting the room again so that I could get a few more hours of shut eye. Checkout time was at 11 am and I was sooooo tired. Getting the room again would require a short groggy walk to the front desk, about three minutes to process the card, and a walk back to the room. Not getting the room again would require some serious determination and an all out assault with regards to packing my things and trying to squeeze out a shower before eleven. The deciding factor was the twenty dollars that Motel 6 added to the price of the room for the weekend. Very, very reluctantly, I got out of from under the blanket and started. The Goose was packed and I was drying off from my shower with about five minutes to spare.
Boulder City is about 20 miles southeast of Vegas and is the closest town to Lake Mead National Recreation Area. The plan was to make it to Boulder City, track down some wi-fi and find a place to stay. At a Burger King in Boulder City, I found a campground on-line along the shore of the Lake. The campground is owned by the national park service. $10 would get me a nights stay with all of the facilities except showers. That surely beat the $55 dollars a night at the Motel 6. For $10 I can tough out a day or two of grimeyness until the family arrives in Vegas and I get a room. My annual, national park pass, got me into the park with no extra fees and with camp set up, and the sun setting I took a stroll down to the lakeshore. Really I just wanted to crawl in the tent and call it a night, but that would be a long long night in the tent. The goal was to get just a few pics of the lake at sunset and make it back to the tent after dark. Goal achieved, but it was still so early, so I did what I thought I would do much more on the trip, I read a book. This book was purchased a few nights ago by the Zombie at the MGM Grand. It’s called The Man Manuel and covers damn near everything a wussy type of man would need to know to be so, well, not wussified. The chapters are spread around in an order that kind of saves the best of the book for last. I read three chapters and skipped around the book quite a bit. I, being the ex-construction worker that I am, didn’t think that I could possibly learn anything else knew about hammering a nail through wood, but I did. It turns out that if you’re nailing through extremely hard wood and you don’t want to bend the nail you can put soap on the tip of it to kind of lube it or if you think you may split the wood with the nail you can flip the nail over, point up, smack the sharp side with the hammer to dull it a bit. A dull nail splits wood less than a sharp one. I feel like I know my strengths and weaknesses pretty well and for the most part I still need a little help here and there. Before this book I never knew how to skin a catfish or gut a deer. No one ever taught me. The chapter that I’ll probably have to read a dozen times is the one on women. I’m not lying when I say that I could have a better conversation with a walnut than anyone of the female persuasion. I need some serious help. Anyway, the parts of the book that I have read so far were fantastic. I learned some, laughed some and the author, Greg Stebben, is a very clever writer and if you know about anything manly, you’ll get the jokes. With my new found awarness of my half-manliness and extreme lack of sleep, I called it a night around 9pm.
This post is dedicated to my dad who passed away on September 19th 2010, his birthday would have been yesterday, January 14th. I will never forget him.