Vegas, Baby!

"Hey you, up in the sky learning to fly.
Tell me, how high do you think you'll go before you start falling?"
- Oasis, "Up in the Sky"

A couple of weeks ago, me and Emily made the 4-hour trek to the land of luminescence: Las Vegas, Nevada. We met up with my brother and his wife (my sister-in-law for those of you following the basic concepts of a family tree), who had flown in from Wisconsin. So, you could say we met in the middle...but you'd be a liar. My kudos go out to them for enduring the long travel into the desert.

And it was exactly what we expected Las Vegas to be. Lights, casinos, lights, drinking on the street, buffets, shinier lights, and a little thing called "vast spaces of barren land." Cacti everywhere in that friggin' place. So had we experienced just the usual perks of Vegas, I may have walked away from the vacation unaffected, if not a little disappointed. But not to fear, because this trip to Vegas also included the thrill of being thrust above (and nearly into) some massive canyons 600 feet in the air on a zip line at up to 65 miles per hour. Oh yeah. Oh fuck yeah.



* Vegas in a Nutshell.

Before I go on, I want to say that I liked pretty much everything about Las Vegas. I did. The sights oozed extravagance, the people were all qualified nutjobs, and you could literally go anywhere--at anytime--with a drink in your hand and not be called an alcoholic. And seeing my brother and sister-in-law again made any small wisps of homesickness go sailing off into the wind. All good things. But that zip line...



The intial hike up to the top of the mountain may have been one of the scariest moments of my short life. I'd get so caught up in the painstaking process of carrying our heavy load of equipment up to the top that I'd temporarily forget just how high up we were climbing...until I looked to either side and saw a falling distance that would make even an eagle shit themselves. And when I finally got strapped into my harness for that first run I saw the majesty of those rocky red hills ready to smash my teeth into the back of my head.



But the release that I felt when I was zooming through the air--cheeks wide with toothy happiness--the fear went away and the adrenaline mixed with a strange sense of euphoria that I've rarely had the pleasure of feeling. It was awesome! Not so awesome: getting stuck a dozen or so yards out on a very thin line because my scrawny bones couldn't make it all the way to the end of one particularly slow zipping. For about 60 seconds I was Shaky Jake: Damsel in Distress. But nevertheless, this was an incredible 4 hour series of ups and downs (literally) that had me running the emotional gamut from terrified, relieved, energized, worn down, and ultimately nostaligic for a time that had only just passed.

So, while some other stuff took place--sightseeing, nighttime explorations of old and new Vegas, a trip to the Hoover Dam, not nearly enough drinking, etc.--the highlight was soaring majesticly over the mighty cliffs of the desert and living to tell the story.

Truly a once in a lifetime experience.


This Entry in Song:
The Killers - "Joyride"
Yellowcard - "Lights and Sounds"
Foo Fighters - "Learn to Fly"

Be Back Soon,
Shaky Jake

Spotting The Famous: The Rock Says...

"The Rock says this: if the Rock hits you, he'll kill you. If he misses, the wind behind the punch will give you pneumonia and you'll die anyway, so the choice is yours, jabroni!""
- The Rock on WWE RAW

Everyone has an idol. Someone they look up to. Someone they admire perhaps a bit more than they should. From the moment I saw this man...nay, from the moment I heard him verbally abuse one of his "coworkers" up and down an arena...I've been obsessive for the guy. I used to memorize his put-downs and catchphrases so that I could spew them at my friends the very next day. I even dressed up as him for a skit that I performed back when I was on a martial arts demonstration team. (Yes, a martial arts demonstration team. Deal with it.) If there is one single being on this planet that I would want to catch a glimpse of in person, it would be this man. And tonight, I got that chance.

I'm talking of course about The Brahma Bull. The Great One. The People's Champion. I'm talking about THE ROCK.

What's not to like about The Rock? He's witty, charismatic, and can body slam a motherfucker to the ground. Who doesn't want to meet that guy?

As luck would have it, the bus that I take home from work everyday drops me off just in front of the Hollywood subway station, which happens to be on the same stretch of street as The Kodak Theater and El Capitan Theater. Both of these cinemas consistently show big movie premiers. And on this fine day, when I stepped off the bus, I noticed that the huge lights that were flashing were doing so in front of giant posters promoting The Rock's latest Disney flick, Race to Witch Mountain. And as luck would have it, the lights that were flashing were also doing so on Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson.

I stood across the street from my idol of more than 10 years. He was within a few yards of my own two feet. Smiling, chatting, generally oozing more charisma than I've ever thought of having. And surprisingly enough, there weren't too many people lined up at the barricades to see The Great One arrive. The lines were perhaps two rows deep at their thickest, so I easily merged toward the front to nestle along the barricade. I was literally directly across from him. He was even facing my direction as he talked to the reporters.

At first, I was so starstruck that nothing besides the big dude standing 20 feet away registered with me. After a few moments when this feeling subsided, I realized that to be this close to one of my favorite people in this world was truly a once-in-a-lifetime chance. I had to do something. At first, though, I was too shy. "People will stare at me if I do something to ridiculous," I thought. After this thought passed, I noticed that The Rock was moving down the Red Carpet and out of my direct line of sight. So I moved with him.

Once again, he stopped to do another interview with a different reporter. So I stopped across from where he did, mimicking his location on my side of the street. Again, I had a pristine view of him as I looked directly at my idol. A second chance for me to do something. Anything. "If I don't do this, I know I'll regret it for the rest of my life," I said to myself. So, without giving it a third thought, I tipped my head back and let it flow...

"If ya SMELLLLLLLLLLLL...what The Rock...is cookin!"

His head twitched. He heard. His eyes were now darting over toward my general direction, inspecting the scene. I nodded my head feverishly and let my uncontainable smile do the talking. And then it happened: he cocked his head slightly...and raised the eyebrow. The People's Eyebrow. And without missing a beat, he turned his head back to the reporter and continued talking as if he'd never stopped.

"Unbelievable." "Too cool." "Surreal." "Batshit insane." A lot of words came to mind, but none of them could do the scenario justice. This was a moment that was incapable of being captured by words. It...it completely made my year worth it. Regardless of whatever else has happened or will happen, that will always make me glad that I came out to California. It will be something for me to remember forever.

Finally, Rock, I got to smell what you were cookin'. And ya know what? It smelled pretty good.


The Rock's WWE Theme Song

Be Back Soon,
Shaky Jake

Fast Fact #6

When this author wants to be, he can be goddamn sexy.



Right? Right?

...You bet'cha.

I Think This Horse Wants Me Dead.

"I like beer and I like cheese. I like the smell of a westerly breeze.
But what I like more than all of these is to be on horseback."
- Mike Oldfield, "On Horseback"

What do you get a lady for your 3 year anniversary? Is it diamonds? Fine china? Tickets to go see her favorite musical? If you're a chump, maybe. A real man sets his lady atop a stallion and rides her off into the sunset with a six-shooter in one hand and his genitalia in the other. I'm talking a galloping ride of epic proportions through terrain so breathtakingly beautiful and transcendent that it would make God himself smack his forehead and say "I'd love to meet the guy who made that!" Or, if you're a real man on a budget, you take your girlfriend to ride some pretty tame/smelly horses underneath the HOLLYWOOD sign at a place called Sunset Ranch. But, hey, that scenery was pretty nice to look at.

Meet Sawyer. That's him, right there. He's got a great sense of humor.


Look at me when I'm mocking you dammit!

This one time, about halfway through the ride--while straddling the edge of a cliff that would have surely killed a lesser man had he fallen off it--Sawyer thought it would be a hoot if he bucked me around like I was a piece of unpopped corn and he was a microwave with a vendetta to settle. Ha! Like Jim Carrey, this horse. Oh! And then there was the time where he considered it a real riot to turn around and bite the face off the horse behind him. Of course, the other horse didn't find it quite so hilarious, but me and Sawyer had a good laugh over it. Then I think I passed out for a few minutes due to terror. But when I woke up, I could see for miles and miles...



The mountains were breathtaking. And so was the sight of the city from a far distance. It really makes you feel so small and unimportant.


That ass makes a guy feel pretty small, too.
(Sidenote: that ass belongs to a horse named Tiny. Nice!)

Lest you think we were in any real peril on those bucking broncos, we were wearing adequate protection as provided by Sunset Ranch. Because when you fall 10+ stories onto a bunch of jagged, unforgiving rocks, this is what's going to save you.



And if I might add, I felt the helmets gave us a Rain Man-esque element of style that was really lacking in our ensembles. Two points for headgear!

But really, the experience was all-around enjoyable. We saw a piece of L.A. that we never knew existed while making our spirits high and our butt cheeks numb. We battled ferocious, hairy beasts and lived to tell the tale. And we capped the night off with a romantic dinner, dressed in our finest attire and only smelling slightly of horse remnants. (And fear. It took me a while to calm down from my near-death experience.) Good times.

Now, the true question is: what do you get a lady for your fourth year together? Pearls? Perfume? A trip to a Mexican apple orchard? Only time will tell...


This Entry In Song:
Modest Mouse - "Gravity Rides Everything"
Rufus Wainwright - "King of the Road"

Be Back Soon,
Shaky Jake