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A Swede in Las Vegas
Oct. 13th, 2008 03:29 pmThe funniest thing with Las Vegas was my mother's reaction to it. In general it can be summed up with her persona fitting hand in glove into Garrison Keillor's a Prairie Home Companion monologues.
"aah, jaa, see all these lights, Martin Martin (dad), fiilm the sphinx, film thaat, not those, why don't you film what I'm pointing at, listen to me!"
(whispering loudly in my ear in the casino) "So, you really mean that ANYONE could be a millionaire, even though they are all dressed very badly, even if they wear SHORTS and SNEAKERS???"
My mother was enamored and disgusted with Las Vegas at the same time, like a child who'd wished for a frisbee and instead been handed a very shiny and complicated technical gadget. She heard the story about the engineer who five years ago had put 3 dollars in a slot machine at the Excalibur and won 36 million, and she couldn't let it go. We explained and explained to her that this virtually never happens, and that's what makes that story extraordinary, not the actual sum of money, and yet she said:
"We will gamble, you must. Here children (!), take these $100 and use them up, your father and me will do the same."
And me and the geek did so and it was fucking boring, in the end we found a way to go $50 on plus, so we were okay, but my mom came over to us and shook her head and tssked angrily.
"Your faaather, he lost it all. First he won 75 dollars and then he lost every penny, it's typical for him to not listen to me, I told him to change machines!"
I then told her that the house always wins and showed her how to quickly lose ten bucks on her own and she looked so sad.
"..but zis is...zis is so...dishonest, all zeese people playing with their paychecks, someone should stop zem...
The funniest moment with my mom in Vegas was however when I took her to the fancy brand stores at the Bellagio hotel. We entered Gucci and these well manicured high heeled vulture ladies who live on elegant slave labor commission contracts started to circle around my tiny mom like hungry velociraptors around a sandpiper and my poor sandpiper looked at the beautiful $500 Gucci bag and then at the reptile-ladies coming closer and closer, at the bag and then at me, finally she hissed: "I DON'T want to talk to those women!" and ran out of the store. I had to hold my mid section from laughing while walking out, ducking away from the stiletto glances of the raptor ladies.
On our way from the Bellagio my mother pursed her lips in a defiant way and said: I COULD buy that bag if I wanted to, I HAVE the money, anyone can see I'm not poor. I just don't want to TALK to those harpies. WHY can't they just not leave you ALONE, if I buy something I'll approach them.
In my head I heard the Prairie Home companion monologue and for some reason I felt good that she'd stormed out of there.
My dad was in on the whole Garrison Keillor pastiche in his own way, by just walking around and smoking like a chimney wherever he could, and saying: Shuttup woman, this is VEGAS and you can smoke EVERYWHERE, it's ALLOWED.
Anyways, I think they had a good time, and me and the Geek didn't lose our minds, so win-win I suppose.
To sum up the rest of what's occupied my mind in the last 2 weeks:
* No news on the job situation, I'm preparing for the end of the contract by the end of the month, and for quitting.
* A close relative of the Geek's has asked me to become the godmother of their child. I think it's a conspiracy to make me stay in America even if the axes of evil win. It's a shame that it might work, since I love their little baby girl. I am chained to this country by love and it might very well break me. It will be my second godchild, my other goddaughter lives in Sweden and is 11 years old.
* Liberal economist Paul Krugman won the Nobel prize in economy, and already other angry economists in the US rant about it being an era of socialism coming upon this poor country, and that socialism has never worked.
Really? what about a mixed economy of socialism and capitalism? Do please tell me that it's never worked in my face, it wouldn't be the first time I hear that and laugh.
"aah, jaa, see all these lights, Martin Martin (dad), fiilm the sphinx, film thaat, not those, why don't you film what I'm pointing at, listen to me!"
(whispering loudly in my ear in the casino) "So, you really mean that ANYONE could be a millionaire, even though they are all dressed very badly, even if they wear SHORTS and SNEAKERS???"
My mother was enamored and disgusted with Las Vegas at the same time, like a child who'd wished for a frisbee and instead been handed a very shiny and complicated technical gadget. She heard the story about the engineer who five years ago had put 3 dollars in a slot machine at the Excalibur and won 36 million, and she couldn't let it go. We explained and explained to her that this virtually never happens, and that's what makes that story extraordinary, not the actual sum of money, and yet she said:
"We will gamble, you must. Here children (!), take these $100 and use them up, your father and me will do the same."
And me and the geek did so and it was fucking boring, in the end we found a way to go $50 on plus, so we were okay, but my mom came over to us and shook her head and tssked angrily.
"Your faaather, he lost it all. First he won 75 dollars and then he lost every penny, it's typical for him to not listen to me, I told him to change machines!"
I then told her that the house always wins and showed her how to quickly lose ten bucks on her own and she looked so sad.
"..but zis is...zis is so...dishonest, all zeese people playing with their paychecks, someone should stop zem...
The funniest moment with my mom in Vegas was however when I took her to the fancy brand stores at the Bellagio hotel. We entered Gucci and these well manicured high heeled vulture ladies who live on elegant slave labor commission contracts started to circle around my tiny mom like hungry velociraptors around a sandpiper and my poor sandpiper looked at the beautiful $500 Gucci bag and then at the reptile-ladies coming closer and closer, at the bag and then at me, finally she hissed: "I DON'T want to talk to those women!" and ran out of the store. I had to hold my mid section from laughing while walking out, ducking away from the stiletto glances of the raptor ladies.
On our way from the Bellagio my mother pursed her lips in a defiant way and said: I COULD buy that bag if I wanted to, I HAVE the money, anyone can see I'm not poor. I just don't want to TALK to those harpies. WHY can't they just not leave you ALONE, if I buy something I'll approach them.
In my head I heard the Prairie Home companion monologue and for some reason I felt good that she'd stormed out of there.
My dad was in on the whole Garrison Keillor pastiche in his own way, by just walking around and smoking like a chimney wherever he could, and saying: Shuttup woman, this is VEGAS and you can smoke EVERYWHERE, it's ALLOWED.
Anyways, I think they had a good time, and me and the Geek didn't lose our minds, so win-win I suppose.
To sum up the rest of what's occupied my mind in the last 2 weeks:
* No news on the job situation, I'm preparing for the end of the contract by the end of the month, and for quitting.
* A close relative of the Geek's has asked me to become the godmother of their child. I think it's a conspiracy to make me stay in America even if the axes of evil win. It's a shame that it might work, since I love their little baby girl. I am chained to this country by love and it might very well break me. It will be my second godchild, my other goddaughter lives in Sweden and is 11 years old.
* Liberal economist Paul Krugman won the Nobel prize in economy, and already other angry economists in the US rant about it being an era of socialism coming upon this poor country, and that socialism has never worked.
Really? what about a mixed economy of socialism and capitalism? Do please tell me that it's never worked in my face, it wouldn't be the first time I hear that and laugh.
