Las Vegas - Becoming a Local

The first week of January, 2017 was our 6 month anniversary as legitimate residents of Las Vegas. We came in the midst of one of the hottest summers in the valley (see my speedometer temperature gauge reading 118 degrees) and so far this winter there has been a lot more rain than I had anticipated. 

Over time that will all even out and, regardless of the variations and proclivities of weather here in the desert, I do not miss the sleet, snow, icy windshields, salted streets and sidewalks and frigid cold of the northeast.    

Yet, becoming a “local” involves a lot more than living in Las Vegas and doing things that Las Vegas residents do. Becoming a local in the poker room is an even more daunting task.

Although the choices of where to play poker in Vegas are not as varied as they were about five or six years ago, there are still plenty of places to play. Add into that mix the stakes you are willing to play and the options narrow further. Big strip casinos like the Bellagio, Aria, the Mirage, and Wynn all have sizeable poker rooms that fill up regularly on weekends with tourists and opportunists. The game of choice is No Limit Hold’em and the many $1/$2 dollar tables and $1/$5 tables with other variations in between attract players willing to buy in for thousands of dollars. Limit tables are far and few between although they can be found in smaller venues like the Flamingo, Monte Carlo, and even Excalibur. The Venetian, once a mecca for poker players, has been seriously impacted by the poker-playing public’s dislike for owner Sheldon Adelson and his vocal trashing of on-line gambling ventures. Some still play there but not with the enthusiasm of a few years ago.

Tournaments abound, both small and moderate stakes, and the Downtown locations, the Golden Nugget in particular, have nice, regular, reasonably staked competitions.

But, to become a “local” one must pick a room and frequent it regularly. For that, and for residents who live in North Las Vegas, away from the frenzy of the Strip, that often means a Station casino.

In the past six months I have played at Red Rock, Green Valley Ranch, and, most often, Santa Fe. These, along with the other Station casinos, offer small stakes Limit games ($2/$4 and $3/$6 primarily) as well as small stakes tournaments at least twice a day. 

Did I mention that, more often than not, becoming a local player takes time and often costs money? Except for weekends and holidays, these off-strip casinos are all locals! The faces that show up for the tournaments are mostly all the same faces; the bodies occupying the chairs around the low limit tables are the same ones that show up every day; those waiting around for the occasional Omaha or No-Limit game are the same payers day in and day out.

The characteristics of local players vary greatly. Contrary to popularly held opinions, they are not all “tight” poker players. On the contrary, some can be very loose. Whatever strategy they have developed over years of playing becomes their poker personality and they project it, win or lose. They all know each other and they all know how the others play. Some have been in Vegas for a few years; some have lived here all their lives. They come from New York, California, the Mid-West, Mexico and Canada. Many are retired but not all. They tend to be right of center politically and care very little about what anyone else thinks of their opinions and views. They are deeply concerned about rakes and fees but generously tip dealers with every winning pot and cocktail waitresses with every drink. They react favorably to any casino perk that increases their edge, be it a high-hand jackpot or a “quad-flopper” promotion. They come and go during the course of the day some arriving by 6 AM, leaving the table for lunch, and returning afterwards. Some pop in from their jobs instead of eating lunch, leaving with a few bucks winnings or depositing their lunch money on someone else’s stack of chips. During the week they tend to be older, more senior citizens and the sight of oxygen tanks and walkers lined up against the wall is common.

They share one characteristic in common – they are known. They are known by each other and they are known by the casino staff: dealers, floor people, managers, waitresses and hosts. If you are known, you are a local. It doesn’t have anything to do with how well or how badly you play poker. It doesn’t have anything to do with buying in for $100 at a time or doling out $20 bill after $20 dollar bill. It doesn’t have anything to do with how you dress or how you talk. If you are known, you are a “local.”  

So, that’s what I have been doing – getting people to know me and it has been going well. A few dealers know my name; a few patrons know and remember me; I feel comfortable and welcome in the poker room. Becoming a regular winner, on the other hand, takes more time but I am working on that too!

Rabbits (Not Bunnies, Just Rabbits)

Coming from a fairly urban environment to North Las Vegas, I never expected to be thrust into a veritable zoo of wildlife. Don’t get me wrong – we have animals in New York, even in the city, and they are rather hearty types.

We have skunks, raccoons, squirrels, pigeons, birds of all types, even some pretty ones, and we have rats! The skunks and raccoons are nocturnal so the chance of running into one of them while walking your dog in the day light is remote. Night walks are another story altogether, especially on evenings before garbage pick-ups. The raccoons and skunks either have very good noses (probably) or are intelligent enough to have learned the days of the week (possibly). Sunday evenings before Monday trash pick-ups were usually the best time for spotting urban game lurking under a parked car or hiding behind a shrub.

A close encounter involves a snarl on one end and a feverish barking Maltese on the other but the stand-off usually results in a draw and the ways of urban nature go undisturbed. Get too close and risk being sprayed or even worse.

Our little house in North Las Vegas is sandwiched between a quiet street of similar (more like EXACTLY THE SAME) houses on one side and a golf course on the other. We tolerate the occasional stray golf ball hitting the side of the house or rolling into our space. Our dogs even put up with the occasional golfer crossing the “Out Of Bounds” line and searching our bushes for a ball (tolerate for dogs equals frantic snarly and incessant barking, by the way). We retrieve the lost, unclaimed balls, especially after a weekend, in the unlikeliest of places. So be it! No big deal.

What we never expected was the number and variety of wild critters that make their homes around our home and neighborhood.

New Yorkers are no strangers to rabbits. They (the rabbits) live in the suburbs twenty minutes or so from the busy streets of the city or closer in enclosures we call “Pet Stores!” We know some people (even relatives) that have or have had a rabbit or two as a pet. They always seemed quite docile and rather motionless inside their too small indoor hutches surrounded by hay and toys they were unlikely to play with. Most of these family pets start out small and skinny but grow fat and ponderous from too much good food and little or no exercise.

Enter the Las Vegas Desert Golf Course Dwelling Jackrabbit!!! I am sure I am at fault for not paying attention to the non-man-eating beasts on the TV nature programs or for by-passing the rabbit houses at the Bronx Zoo deeming them uninteresting and boring as a kid but the creature that lives under a rosemary bush three feet from our patio sliding door is a ferocious looking beast like I have never seen before.

We call him Jack since I am reasonably sure he (she maybe! – if so we apologize for the gender naming mix-up) is a jackrabbit.

To start with he is huge. Not fat mind you. On the contrary, he is sleek and wiry, the very definition of one of those lean, mean prize-fighters with no pronounced muscles to speak of who kick the crap out of anyone who gets in their way. He is tall but that incudes his ears and who wouldn’t since, after his eyes, they are the most pronounced feature of this animal. When he stretches out to wander out onto the golf course for dinner he is longer and taller than either our Maltese or our Shi-Tzu. That’s not saying much but he’s a rabbit after all. If you were expecting warm, furry and cuddly as in “bunny,” Jack’s not your guy. He is every bit as wily as “Wily Coyote.” (By the way, we have those too but that’s a story for another post!).

Most times Jack just sits outside our back door and stares which is easy for him since his eyes are dark, large, and bulging. With a few small modifications by an amateur illustrator he could easily be turned into the Zombie Rabbit of your worst nightmare.

Jack has friends and perhaps even family. Although there are a few other jackrabbits of his size and stature in the neighborhood, most are smaller (maybe children!) and many are different looking which leads me to conclude that in addition to jackrabbits we also have other breeds of rabbits around here. These other rabbits terrify you with their sheer numbers rather than their frightening appearance.

Our complex has set aside a few grassy areas for dog walking, complete with an ample supply of doggy doodie bags for dealing with (well, you know what I mean!). Evening walks, just like back in the city, require a flash light since the green patch at night is covered (that is not an exaggeration) with rabbits that mostly flee when you shine a light on them. It’s creepy to see so many rabbits in the same place at the same time. I have counted thirty at once but I am sure some have already fled by the time I gather enough composure to count.

Some do not flee. These are the bigger ones, not as big as Jack but way bigger than the average rabbit. Their mottled coats tell me they are some kind of hybrid born out of some ungodly union between different breeds of rabbit. Shine a light on them and they do not flinch; walk up to them and they do not move; hiss, “Shoo!” at them and they remain. Only my dog can scatter them with a lunge and a yelp. Good thing they do not lunge back.

These rabbits are grey, brown, beige, black, white or any combination of the above. There is a solid black one of impressive size who has little or no fear of humans and none of little dogs. We avoid him.

Each night we do our business quickly and leave the grass to the rabbits.

I have mentioned the “rabbit issue” to a few neighbors who are willing to speak to a New Yorker. The response is immediate and vehement – they (the rabbits) are hated members of the community and in the best Trumpian spirit they have attempted to have them banned, deported or even exterminated. The local newsletter has contained articles detailing the progress (little, if any) that has been made with the Animal Control people. “Desert animals live in the desert,” the authorities have said and “we are living on their territory.” Not dismayed the anti-rabbit posse has suggested (again very Trump-like) building “rabbit-proof” walls throughout the community. Although it didn’t say so in the article I am sure someone suggested having the rabbits pay for the wall as well!

As a side note our community (55+ as it happens to be and fairly (hugely) conservative) has many election signs posted in front yards. To the dismay of a liberal, soft, mealy-mouthed (their description, not mine) Democrat from the east coast, the Trump signs out front out-number the Hillary signs about 20-1 ( that’s not an average – there are about 20 Trump signs and one lonely but proud Hillary sign). Each time I pass the Hillary sign I beep my car horn in support; each time I pass a Trump sign I wonder if the occupants of that home really do support a megalomaniac, war mongering, bigoted, frightened,  failed entrepreneur from NYC or they just want to get rid of the rabbits!

Miss and Don't Miss #2

As the days pass (quickly I might add), the things left behind in New York and those that are new to Las Vegas become more pronounced. Anyone who says that NY is better than LV or vice versa is not considering all the facts. Both places have appeal and both places have negatives. In actuality they are not much different although there are plenty who will argue this statement.

Each day wandering around North Las Vegas and its environs I am reminded about those things that I “miss” and “do not miss” about both towns.

Traffic : If you listen to morning “drive-time” radio in Las Vegas you would think that traffic is a nightmare – back-ups moving south on I15, a pile up on the 215, Flamingo Road barely passable. Any and all of these traffic bulletins involve waiting to get where you are going for another 10 minutes maximum.

Since arriving here a little over 3 months ago I have been depending on Google Maps to get me from point A to point B – this kind of navigational guide is a must in Las Vegas for anyone coming here from the east coast since every strip mall looks exactly like every other strip mall and every housing development is chock full of little brown and tan houses all in a row (no distinguishable landmarks, no way points that stand out). Those of you who use Google Maps (and if you do not I recommend it highly over other GPS apps and devices) know that the “smart” part of the program turns heavy traffic roads from yellow to orange to (God forbid!!!) red when traffic is at its worst. Driving around NY you make U-turns over grassy road dividers when you see red! In Las Vegas? Meh!!!! A red road means that there are more than a usual number of cars on the road – not stopped mind you, not moving under the speed limit mind you, but just more than an average number of cars on the road.

For me this is wonderland. I have not been in a traffic jam (a New York style traffic jam) in three months. For those of you unfamiliar with a New York style traffic jam, let me give an illustration.

My wife and I sold our home in New York and decided to forego the all-around stress of taking our two not so well-behaved small but annoying dogs on a plane ride out here. We opted for a closing in the late morning, a quick lunch, and off in the car we would be on a five day jaunt across the country. You’ve heard about the “best-laid plans?” Once we were all in the car, the dogs safely strapped in the back seat since otherwise our Shih-Tzu prefers to lean over the front seat and whine while our Maltese prefers riding shot-gun digging his small, lethal paws into my wife’s legs, we set our minds on the far west. Not so fast. The Mercedes CLA 250 lease we were driving, an otherwise reliable but over-rated car, had been trouble free up until that point when a “warning” light blipped on the dash!!! A quick look in the manual informed us, yes, you guessed it, “bring the car in to the dealership to get this checked out ASAP”. So instead of heading west directly for the George Washington Bridge, we headed east toward the dealership in New Rochelle.

After some begging and suggesting that we weren’t moving the car out of the Service Department entrance until they helped us, they agreed to take a look at it. Unconsciously they hurried up the process as much as possible after we exited the vehicle and sauntered into their posh Waiting Room with our two dogs in tow.

Their fast is not my idea of fast and after almost two hours they informed us that the “sensor” that tripped the warning light was defective and they did not have the part to replace it. They assured us the car was running perfectly and to have the part changed once we arrived in Las Vegas (we still have not by the way!).

Back in the car we re-mapped our escape route and since we were now on the east side of the county we opted for I95 to the Cross Bronx Expressway, to the GW Bridge. Simple! Straightforward! Efficient! Except we did not factor in that this was a Friday afternoon (now about 3:30 PM) in New York City.

New York traffic is so bad that the radio routinely does not report traffic snarls that are routine and normal – translation, anything that happens on the Cross Bronx Expressway! From where we started this leg of our trip to the New Jersey side of the GW bridge is 5 or 6 miles at the most. At 6:30 PM (3 hours later) we were crossing the Hudson River and already exhausted. That’s RED traffic on Google Maps and I sincerely do not miss that kind of New York Traffic at all.

Fast Food : First things first. I am not a big fan of fast food. I will eat an occasional Kentucky Fried Chicken meal and I find myself at MacDonalds far more often than I’d like. Fast food has its place in our society – something to eat when you need to get it FAST.

Somehow the “fast” part of fast food has been lost at many venues in LV as opposed to New York where you can get a hot dog or a gourmet meal from a food truck in a split second! The idea of having food ready to serve at the request of a diner involves having the food you are selling already prepared or very close to being prepared. I’m sure that at the end of the day many fast food establishments that do all of this the correct way have a certain amount of waste to deal with – prepared food waiting to be bought but no one bought it! My guess is that many Las Vegas fast food establishments are attempting to cut down on this sort of waste. However, in doing so they eliminate the essence of “fast.”

At a local casino that my wife and I frequent there are a number of decent sit down restaurants and a small food court. Food courts are designed for fast food, right? Not so fast. Of the Dairy Queen, Nathan’s,  Capriotti’s, Panda Express, Rubio’s and Johnny Rocket’s there, the only one that has food ready and waiting is the Panda Express and often the display trays are down to the bottom and you have to wait for another batch to be prepared.

 Nathan’s hotdogs? Waiting on the cold side of the grill for a customer. Fries? That’ll take 3 – 5 minutes in the deep fryer. A burger? You are looking at a good 10-15 minute wait!

What I’m saying is if I lower my standards enough to order fast food, I at least expect it to be fast. Think again in Las Vegas. I miss New York fast food.

 Poker Update : I am relieved that I came to Las Vegas to retire, and not to attempt to make a living playing poker. If I had tried surviving on poker by now I’d be holding a sign on the corner advertising my willingness to work for food!

 I have finished first in a small online tournament which paid about 20x my buy in. That was very satisfying. On the other hand I have gone out of similar tournaments on the bubble twice! That’s heart wrenching.

Live play is not going well. No tournament cashes in about 6 attempts and 2 out of about 10 winning seats at cash games. I’m not ready to give up yet although I am tightening up my play a good deal. Thankfully I enjoy playing and I am not losing the farm!

Time will tell.

Miss and Don't Miss #1

It’s going on two months that we have been here in the desert following our week long drive across country. We do not regret the move. In spite of the record breaking heat we had in June we are on the road to becoming Las Vegans (Vegans? – we are certainly not giving up meat! Las Vegians?).

There are, however, things that I miss about the east in general and the New York Metropolitan area in particular.

Pizza (and by extension BREAD) – The number of pizza places in the Las Vegas area advertising themselves as “New York Pizza” establishments is astounding. I attribute this advertising gimmick to pandering to the easterner’s need for good pizza. Some of the ones I have tried are passable, as in edible, but something’s missing. I have eaten decent crust, middling mozzarella, and tolerable sauce rarely if ever all on the same slice. Years ago when I first starting coming to Vegas as a tourist, not even this level of average excellence was available so kudos to those who are trying. My latest thinking is that the NY “environment” is missing and no one can transport that here or anywhere. Rarely are there lines of people queued up for slices and cokes even at lunch time. Never thus far has there been yelling, pushing, jockeying for better places in line or mean, threatening looks from those behind the counter. Rarely have I been told that a “pie is coming out soon,” first of all because they never call pizza “pie.” Secondly, because there is seldom enough business for anyone to be in a rush so spare slices are always waiting. 

Also, pizza joints in Las Vegas are really into “toppings.” Aside from a sausage, pepperoni, or mushrooms slice here and there, New Yorkers are content with what is called the “cheese slice” here in Vegas as if you can have a slice of pizza without cheese. Here the menu of toppings includes all those available in NY with the addition of exotic extras like pineapple and avocado. “Gimme a break!!! Pineapple pizza? I’ll never get used to that.

My best guess though is that there is more wrong with desert pizza at the foundation level than anywhere else, which brings me to bread! There ae so many kinds of exceptional, breath-taking, scrumptious breads in the New York area that the old saw, “Man does not live by bread alone,” is way off base. In New York you CAN live by bread alone – maybe a little olive oil or butter too but that’s plenty. So if it’s difficult to get good bread here it’s not because there isn’t any good flour – there’s lots of it and it grows closer to Vegas than it does to NY. Believe me, I drove passed all those amber waves of grain on my way out here. The problem with bread here is water. Not only do we have lousy water in Las Vegas but the issue is magnified by the fact that New York City and its environs have world class water. The city we lived in, Mount Vernon, had its water judged the best in New York State multiple times. So, I’m spoiled. And, this all runs down hill – lousy water, lousy dough; lousy dough lousy pizza. I’ll live with this situation but I still miss NY pizza.

Humidity – Hate it with a passion and I do not miss it at all. Give me humidity under 20% any day of the week and you can jack the temperature up as high as you want.

If I understand humidity correctly, 100% humidity means wet, right – wet like raining, or submerged in the ocean, or doused with a hose. I don’t think there is anything like 100%+ humidity. 100% is the limit and anything close to that yields buckets of sweat and oodles of discomfort. This week, while it has been a tolerable 111 degrees Fahrenheit with about 15% humidity in Las Vegas, it has been in the 90s in New York with humidity of 80% as well. Brutal! That’s stay indoors weather, not just to get cool in the AC, but so as not to die on the street from heat stroke. 

And if you really want to thank your lucky stars that you are in the desert instead of the east coast, think of those poor devils in Orlando or Miami, Florida. Daily, this time of year, they are treated to 90+/90+ situations. Icky! Sticky! Goo!

God bless Las Vegas.

Poker - Although I am not doing as well as I hope to do in the near future, especially online, I relish the fact that in Las Vegas adults are treated like adults and “allowed” to play games of chance (skill too!) like poker whenever the hell they please. It’s my money. I earned it and if I want to put it at risk on a card table that’s my business, not the state government’s. Wake up New York. Let them play!!!

More later.