I’m off to Vegas for 11 days in five days, and I’m gonna blog about it.

Let’s get right to the heart of this thing… Covenant number one: while I love Hunter S. Thompson, I’m not him, and will not write like him (anymore).

Promise.

OK. Vegas.

It began in 2000. Spring Break. Road trip. The tall guy in the back is Paul Ryan, now an artist. On the far right? Jordan Jones, a professional triathlete.

We flew in to Albuquerque. The objective? Rent a van, hit Boulder, Vegas, visit the Brothers Johnson from Letsrun (above), then get to Lake Havasu for MTV Spring Break… Our timing was disastrous. We drove to Havasu first, missing Spring Break by exactly five days. We inquired about MTV at the lobby bar, the bartender said, “you faggots are a week early” haw haw haw. We arrived in Boulder for an unseasonable six inches of snow.

In the middle? Vegas, where we ate crappy prime rib at the now deceased Frontier and gambled with $17 (a tank of gas at the time).

Fast forward to 2005, and wouldn’t you know it, I worked on the team financing Trump International Hotel & Tower, Las Vegas.

A runner, I proposed a Team Trump Las Vegas to run the marathon, you know, get in with the community. There I am, all filthy looking on Fremont Street.

Mr. Trump said, “sure” and flew us out — I finished 51st overall, in exactly 2:50:45, because to running people, times and places are your memories.

I designed the uniforms… this wouldn’t be my last visual interaction with the Welcome to Las Vegas Sign.

In the years that followed, I adopted a “fuck Vegas” attitude… that was until my sexy wife wanted to go to Vegas for her birthday.

Coming triple full circle, we stayed at Trump Vegas, which I worked on, on the imprint of the Frontier, where I ate crappy prime rib on Spring Break a decade earlier, and I woke up on my wife’s birthday to see the Vegas Marathon passing by on Las Vegas BLVD.

I share this picture not because I’m doing that douchey gang sign without affiliation thing, but rather because my hair was ridiculously long.

Now the Elvis. So why Vegas? Because Vegas keeps finding me on loop. More to come…

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