So far, things have been relatively smooth. Just a few minor problems; I left a couple of things behind in Austin, but nothing that I can’t make do without.
There have been a couple of slightly unpleasant surprises. I discovered yesterday that one of my other favorite restaurants in Las Vegas, the Tillerman, abruptly closed in February. Google turned up this account of events from the Las Vegas Weekly: there’s a lot I disagree with in it (the neighborhood doesn’t strike me as being particularly sketchy, for example) but it is the best account I’ve been able to find.
I do have a badge, and I only had to wait in line two hours to get it. The other slightly unpleasant surprise, though, was that DEFCON decided that electronic badges are “passé”: this year’s badges are inert hunks of titanium, tied in with some sort of “puzzle based reality game”. (Joe Grand’s big enough to take care of himself, but the reference to “gameboy on a string” in the DEFCON program seems to me to be a nasty, though perhaps unintended, slap.)
Last night, I decided to try a place I’ve been driving past and thinking of trying since…oh, about 2000 or so. Yes, I know they’re a chain, but have you ever been to a Lawry’s The Prime Rib? Did you even know Lawry’s had restaurants, or were you just familiar with their seasoning salt? (There’s four Prime Ribs in the US: Vegas, Chicago, Beverly Hills, and Dallas.)
Having finally crossed that off my list, I have to say I’m glad I went. The Prime Rib’s an interesting place; the decor (at least in Vegas) reminds me of photos I’ve seen of Chasen’s and other old star hangouts in Los Angeles. And the whole experience has a certain…theatricality to it that’s missing from pretty every restaurant in existence today. Your waiter preps your salad in a spinning salad bowl at the table. When you’re ready for your meal, a carver comes by with a massive polished steel cart and cuts your prime rib off of what must be at least half a cow right in front of you. Plus there’s mashed potatoes and honest-to-Ghu Yorkshire pudding served with it. I think my late stepfather would have loved this place. He was a big prime rib fan, but I think he also would have gotten a kick out of the whole sort of…vintage experience, is the best way I can think of to describe it.
I’ve never really thought of Las Vegas as a bookish town, but Lawrence tipped me off to two vintage bookstores that I visited today. I heartily endorse both of them, and strongly recommend that you visit both. Doing so is pretty easy, as they’re basically right across the street from each other.
I’m sorry I didn’t catch the name of the gentleman who runs Greyhound’s Books, but he came across to me as someone who’s very much worth knowing. I wouldn’t describe him as “kind”, as I so often describe others; he seems intolerant of the rude, the willfully ignorant who wish to remain so, and others who would waste his time. (While I was there, he literally chased one person out of the store for using a cell phone.) But for the serious and polite book shopper, this store is a delight. He seems to be very strong on mystery, military history, and history in general. His food and cooking selection also seemed strong to me; he had the only copy of Cross Creek Cookery I’ve seen in probably five years of searching. (The owner also writes, along with other folks, at Books of Worth, an entertaining site I was previously unaware of.)
I didn’t want to press for details (I’m not sure it is any of my damn business) but Amber Unicorn Books appears to be related in some way to Greyhound’s Books. I didn’t have as much interaction with the owners there as I did with the Greyhound’s Books owner, but they certainly seemed like very nice folks. Amber Unicorn appears to be stronger in paperbacks, especially genre paperbacks, but also has a good stock of history, mystery, and law/true crime.
One thing that really struck me about both stores; the folks at both knocked 10% off the total of my purchases for no apparent reason, other than (I guess) I was reasonably polite and didn’t use my cellphone or urinate on their rugs. They didn’t have to do that, and it was very much appreciated.
(And it helped, especially at Amber Unicorn. They had a copy of Skeeter Skelton’s Good Friends, Good Guns, Good Whisky, a book I didn’t even know existed until today. I’ve written before about the gun writers I read growing up; I remember Skelton’s stories with great fondness. Especially the one reprinted in this volume about Dobe Grant and his crate full of Colt Single Action Army parts. When I read that for the first time, man, I wanted a vintage Single Action Army. Still do, come to think of it. I don’t want to say what I paid for that book; let’s just say “Nostalgia is a moron” and leave it at that.)
If you’re a serious book person, you have to visit both of these stores if you’re ever in Las Vegas.
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