The phrase from the song "Ho, Ho, Ho, who wouldn't know" has a completely different meaning in Las Vegas, but I must boast that my activities there on our resentment A 4 day trip would have been quite acceptable for any priest's altar boy. Of course, the fact that my wife was with us may have had a little to do with it. The following are several epiphanies from our journey. At 106 degrees it's not quite hell but it's close enough that you can feel the heat explode when the doors are opened to fuel the furnace with sinners. Not only can you fry eggs curbside in minutes, but you can grill chicken at the same time. Along with the heat comes dryness. It's so dry that even a good spithawk would have trouble reaching the ground before it evaporates. No one chews snoose because they can't conjure up enough spit to soften the chew. Most people carry a bottle of water with them and there are spots set up along the way where you can enjoy a refreshing water dowsing mist. A trip to the bank doesn't last long there as everyone has their hand out asking for a tip. It really put a dent in the bank account I had built up from gambling. It's amazing how fast that $10.00 went. You learn to tip anyone who approaches. The night we went to see the Platters, I forgot about it and gave the first guy a high five when they came into the audience to shake hands. It feels a bit like a money tree with its leaves torn off. It's not easy to get around on the strip if you're not an Olympic class walker since any casino you choose to go to is at least 3 blisters and a carbuncle or two away. You look at a casino that appears to be next door and discover it's half a mile away. Casinos are HUGE! The MGM Grand, f... middle of paper... hundreds of gallons of water that scientists have shown evaporate from large surfaces. Maybe the recovery occurs when it is atomized by water jets in the atmosphere with 8% humidity? On our last night there we briefly entered the realm of the Big Leaguers and treated ourselves to an exorbitant meal at a place called the Stratosphere. Here you are sitting in a restaurant over 800 feet in the air. The restaurant rotates 360 degrees in an hour allowing you to take in both the glitter and grime of Las Vegas from above. You're served by dog-eared waiters in weskits who cater to your every whim, but don't expect anything less than a 40% tip. When we left it was with a smile on our faces and the next month's house payment on the table. So, all in all, how would I rate our trip? It was absolutely fabulous! Would I go back? Without a doubt, but maybe not with my wife!