W, Sept 27: at the recommendation of someone we went shopping with on Monday, we went to breakfast at the Polaris Street Cafe, a place so unassuming from the outside we weren’t sure it was open. The food was delicious, and the breakfast burrito was so large that I had half of it for dinner.
After lunch, MAK and I played billiards, just as we did back in college, which is to say, badly. We did make some decent shots.
Mirage
We headed to The Mirage to see The Beatles LOVE by Cirque Du Soleil. It was a magnificent show. It had everything from an Eleanor Rigby-laden war scene to a tribute to Beatlemania to astonishingly daredevil skateboarding to ballet in the air. A review on Vegas.com called it “a psychedelic journey through the trends and politics of the ’60s and most importantly, The Beatles.”
The music blends several tracks, as the LOVE album does, and is very effective. (By the way, if you are a Beatles fan, you should get that album.) The only song I recall that was not from the album was Twist and Shout.
One problem with the audience is that, while taking photos was allowed, using a flash was not, and for good reason. Ushers went down to the front rows of our section twice to chastise idiots.
There was a five-minute delay about 2/3s of the way through, but it didn’t ruin the show’s flow. My difficulty was that there was often SO much going on, it was a challenge to decide where to look.
A recommendation: buy your tickets early. They use “dynamic pricing,” meaning that the closer to showtime, the more likely they will be more expensive. Yet the nosebleed seats I bought were upgraded to a better location.
Going home?
Th, Sept 28: We checked out of the resort and took a cab to the airport, driving past the Statue of Liberty, which mistakenly appeared on US postage for a time.
We waited at gate 40, but the plane leaving adjacent gate 41 for Atlanta departed late. Still, I was surprised when no one was at the gate 30 minutes before our scheduled takeoff.
Suddenly, we heard a muddled announcement. All I could make out was final, Detroit (our first destination), and 34. Curse me for a novice! I should have known they had moved the flight. I took off for Gate 34 while MAK checked the departure board. He had gotten no info from Delta on their app about the change.
We carried our luggage to the 46th row, with me trying desperately not to hit someone while traversing down the narrow aisle. This was the one time MAK got to sit together on the trip.
Home!
The sandwichwich fixings I packed became dinner. Because of trouble with the plane, our flight to ALB was over an hour late and at a different gate. I checked a bag to Albany.
As I took my middle seat, there was a guy who looked “off.” He offered to help a young woman with her bag, but, as everyone within hearing distance could tell, he was coming onto her, big time. He gave his name, asked for hers, and wanted to know where she was sitting. Fortunately, two flight attendants escorted him off the plane; as far as I could see, he did not resist.
We finally got to Albany, and we went to the baggage area. My suitcase was already on the belt and about to go back around when I put down my other bag, dropped some newspapers, and ran to get my bag, my cap flying off. It was funny to watch, I gather.
MAK’s ex picked us up and dropped me at home. I did my Wordle, then crashed.
Observations
Las Vegas was an interesting, and somewhat exhausting, experience. LV is not what I’d call a walkable city. We wanted to go to a location that wasn’t more than two miles away, but it was impossible to get to without crossing a busy highway. We took more taxis in five days than I’ve taken in the past 25 years.
I’d say Las Vegas is Disneyland, except I’ve never been to the Mouse properties. If your wallet is deep enough, there are a near-infinite number of activities.
Electronic signs for performers we’re supposed to know by first name. DONNY! It was Donny Osmond, of course. WAYNE! There’s a wax museum in LV, and I’m afraid the photo they used of Wayne Newton could have been lifted from there.
I’ve known MAK for over a half-century, but we never traveled nearly so far together. We got along well. I even prodded him to restart his blog, which has been dormant since 2019. He wrote our trip here in 800 words, which took me four posts and over 3000 words to convey; he’s much more economical.
I’ve often mused on musical covers by the same artist. This would be a re-cover in the parlance of the 
In 1973, 27 songs hit #1. Almost all of them were certified gold; Crocodile Rock was certified platinum.
You might flip your wig about the activities when our daughter was home on spring break.