Swinging from the Chandeliers

In honor of the Winter Olympics, I want to share my own little Olympic encounter.

In 2007, I was in Las Vegas for the NATPE convention (National Association of Television Program Executives) in January. Most of my colleagues were staying at the Mandalay Bay Hotel where the convention was being held. But I chose to stay at the Hard Rock Hotel instead. It's more intimate and fun, the rooms are cooler (and for the money - bigger) and I wouldn't have to worry about running into drunken old station affiliates trying to chat me up in the casino. When I checked in, there were a lot of beautiful long haired boys milling about...not abnormal for the Hard Rock but enough for me to take notice. I dropped off my stuff and headed to the Mandalay Bay for a meeting.


At the convention hall, I put two and two together. The bounty of beautiful boys were in town for the SnoSports Trade Show which was sharing space with NATPE. When I got back to the Hard Rock to change for dinner, a faux mountain with real snow had been erected in the parking lot. I had a ring side seat from one of my windows. With an hour to kill before heading over to the Wynn, I cracked a bottle of Jack (You go Hard Rock, you gotta go Jack!) and enjoyed the show. It was a spectacularly incongruous sight. At times the boarders flew so high, I could almost touch them! I could have easily blown off my dinner and just watched them all night.

But my due diligence paid off...

While wandering the the newly opened Wynn, I happened upon this great quiet little moment. Steve Wynn and his wife walking the hotel as well...seemingly just enjoying the fruits of their labor. There was no one else in the hallway at that moment and they were stopping here and there, to look at the fixtures, the art on the walls, the carpet. Mr. Wynn noticed something amiss...his wife spoke quietly into a walkie-talkie and out of nowhere, an employee appeared to right the wrong. Priceless.

Business dinners are always exhausting because you have to be "on" the entire time. So, at 10PM, I was dragging my weary self back to the Hard Rock. There was nothing outside the entrance that prepared me for the scene inside. As far as the eye could see - which at the Hard Rock is the entire casino floor - was a sea of bodies. You literally couldn't see anything but the writhing mass of humanity. And some of them were, literally, swinging from the chandeliers! Seriously. The hotel staff, had ceded control of the hotel and were kind of huddled behind the reception desk. It was one of the most amazing sights I've ever seen. The kids (and they were mostly kids) weren't being destructive. The energy was pure and good. My immediate reaction was to hang out and experience this for a while. So I did. I just kind of moved with the tide. And while I definitely didn't "fit in," no body made me feel that way. There was no psuedo 'too cool for you' poseur action here. These kids were just having too much fun and if you were there, you were O.K. I ran into Shaun White at the bar and he helped me get the bartender's attention. When I congratulated him on his Olympic win, he blushed! The bartender shouted that I should put my money away because the drink was taken care of. Shaun had already disappeared back into the sea of bodies.

After downing my drink, I was ready to go upstairs. After tiptoeing my way through the people sitting on the floor in the hallway that lead to them, I found out that none of the elevatorswere working. The hotel had completely broken down in the few hours I had been gone! Hilarious. I guess even the Hard Rock wasn't prepared for this kind of hard core partying! Some people were starting to climb the stairs but I, in my stilettos, was not going to do that. I noticed a very young boy (eh, say 12) looking tired and forlorn as he leaned on his board. I asked him if he was ok and we connected on some mother/child plane. I was so touched by this baby boarder that I took him under my wing. The kid already had a contract but - in that moment - no one looking out for him. It turns out we were on the same floor, so I took off my shoes and told him we'd walk the 10 floors together. Just then, maintenance got one of the elevators working and their was a surge toward it. But a couple of older boarders blocked people from getting on "Hey, she's gonna take the little dude upstairs, let them on first." It was like getting on the last helicopter out of Saigon!

Now, normally, when you're in Vegas, no matter how crazy it is downstairs, when you reach your floor it's usually nice and quiet...When the elevator door opened on our floor, the hallway was choked with bodies...dancing, clowning, partying hard. Little Dude found his manager (who should probably have been fired for leaving his client alone downstairs) and I made my way to my own room. Here's where the Hard Rock has succeeded in a huge way. Once I got inside and closed the door, I could barely hear the noise out in the hallway. But just to be safe. I grabbed the bottle of Jack, still full but for a two shots, and opened my door. I offered the bottle to the guys hanging just outside of my room "You can have this if you promise to keep it from getting too noisy outside of this door." They were so happy to get an almost full bottle of Jack it was adorable. Was I irresponsible for giving it to them? Not my job. They were already drinking and partying. And it worked. They kept it quiet in front of my door...as far as I know, because I had one of the best nights of sleep I've ever had!


The next morning, there was no sign of the night before. The faux mountain was gone, the hotel staff was back in charge and everything was clean and orderly again. I was a little sad when I returned from the convention that evening and there was no bacchanal in the casino. The magical, mystical snowboarder tour had moved on but I was left with one great rock n roll night to remember.

One Man's Car is Another Woman's Temple

The shiny new-ness of a new year usually wears off by the first quarter. I feel like a really jaded bitch because I'm already bored and weary of 2010. The malaise has extended itself to writing...anything. I was drafting off of my end of 2009 push to write the 12 Days of Christmas here, in the hopes that it would propel me into blogging more frequently. And ideas flit across my brain like fireflies...Ideas that seem brilliant in their brief burst of inspiration but then sift through my fingers like sand or water or sandy water. Because there is SO much out there. Now that literally everyone has a pulpit from which to vomit their usually pedestrian, misspelled, mediocre missives all over the internet...well, it hardly seems worth it.

In my continuing quest to shake things up in my universe...to try and figure out WTF I'm going to do next, I've taken to the old fashioned remedy of going for a drive. Driving is very conducive to calming and thinking. Notice how babies always fall asleep in the car? It's the closest I've come to true meditation. I admit, I haven't driven for pleasure in ages. I forgot how thrilling it is to navigate winding roads with sheer drops. To have the windows down and feel the breeze in my hair and the sun kissing my face. And to be able to allow my imagination to run wild, for my brain to explore thoughts and ideas without immediately rejecting them out of hand. On Monday, I ended up at the Hindu Temple in Malibu Canyon.


It's an amazing sight when it comes into view among the bucolic rolling hills. The Eastern architecture in strong contrast to Western landscape. But, I realized that they didn't just plop it down on any old plot of land. This temple was built for Sri Venkateswara, the presiding deity of the Tirumala Hills in Andhra Pradesh, India and a manifestation of Vishnu. Tirumala Hills means Seven Hills and Venkateswara is also known as the Lord of the Seven Hills. The Malibu temple sits among seven hills as well. You're not supposed to take pictures of him but are you kidding me? I'm alone in the temple with my tiny digital camera...what would you do? I had turned off the flash before getting out of the car. Is that malice of forethought?


The smell of incense and flowers lingers in the air and it's very quiet and peaceful. But my spirit was too restless to sit. In the courtyard are several smaller temples - very much like private mausoleums - that house other deities. I didn't get all of their names but I believe this one is Kanyika Parameswani. She is said to have fulfilled the wish of an ardent devotee by being born into his family. Once she became of age and the family wanted to marry her off, she let it be known that this wasn't part of the deal and immolated herself in holy fire to return to her spiritual form. Ouch. Why must there always be fire?


These two lovely ladies are across the courtyard from Kamyika. They all seem to look alike...is that wrong?


The temple is covered in intricate carvings. I especially liked the great elephant carvings on the outer wall.


The photo at the very top of this post is a close up of one of the life sized sentries that guard the entrance to the temple. We were eye to eye.

Finally, I put my shoes back on and got into my car. Out on Malibu Canyon Road again, I became in tune with the energy flowing through my open windows. I felt at peace and close to happiness...which is pretty close to a miracle.

Just goes to show you...One man's car is another woman's temple.