So that's that, 15 all the way to Vegas, a piece of history, a piece of a story, a peace offering, rather, a sacrifice for being all that is not the Earth, it's a dangerous road, maybe that's part of the karmic irony, retribution, maybe it's just me , maybe I'm the piece.  However, the night was long, hung in the stasis of a perpetual 3 hours.  But like most I was sleepy only when I didn't know the words and I tried to keep that to a minimum. 
  The sun broke early, 4:30 am.  Lazily it climbed over the range (nothing grand, just a backdrop).  The stillness of the early morning coupled with it's soft lighting gave me a renewed sense of awe and connectedness, a bit of reverence to start the end of my day (a break, a breather). 
  Tiredness, hunger, pee poo potty none had a grip on me.  Vagabonds walked the streets, late nights/early mornings only they could say.  All I could do was take it in, focus and drive.  It was an all night affair, by 6am we were situated.  We had made it to the house where we were headed to and getting ready to bed down.
  After a very restful sleep I woke up.  I hadn't felt refreshed, especially from sleep in a long while, so I found that a pleasant change of pace.  We hung around the house for a good while getting lubed up for the party.  Eventually we all pile in the ride & make the long trip across town.  Here we were right by the Strip, lights and attractions but it still didn't seem real because we were crusin' the neighborhoods.   
  We roll up to the party and walk straight to the bar and start fixing drinks.  Few people seemed to notice no one seemed to mind.  Next we hit up the food.  It was all served up buffet style so we just helped ourselves.  At this point we were just 9 party-crashers since we didn't know anyone.  It was a freeing feeling.
  We cool out and chat to a few people then bone out before we overstay our welcome.  Of course, we now head directly toward the neon.  Taking in the sights in Las Vegas is always buzz fueled; lights, cars, cameras, talking, walking, hum, hush, buzz, be, is, part, all, clickety clack of the rollercoasters, beep boop & plastic slam of the cash registers, the thunderous pelting that jackhammers give the hot concrete, thudding away with persistent machine rythyms, the echo of high heels snapping on hard floors contrasted by the softer slap of flipflops resonating through downtown parking garages, the fizz of sodas continually dispensed, the glug of wine, crack of beer, and the howl of my own vocal assertions into the forgiving night air.
Dah Dah Dah Dah da-Dah!  New York New York.
  Upon arrival at the casino we catch a sasquatch break then head into the casino to get tickets for the rollercoaster.  It was a good ride I couldn't stop laughing.
The party went off without a hitch.  "Lights camera action.  I'm sorry Mrs. Jackson." 
  The Rootaments played and had everyone clapping like mad.  Allyson took the lead on Mr. Postman.  She ripped it!  And J.I. looked like a Filipino Elvis with his guitar slung over his shoulder.  It was the shit!  Then we got on and that's when it turned into a dance party.  It was slow at first but the Nursing Classs of 1977 still had disco fever 'cause they were shaking that ass.  Really I think we just warmed 'em up right because after the dance exhibition people just lost their minds and their inhibitions as they limboed as if their lives depended on it.  The snowball effect, soon everyone was dancing, having fun, not giving a shit.
  Eventually the party died.  Everyone to their respective trouble.  We were no different.  "Entourage meet the Strip.  Strip meet the Entourage."  12 folks just enjoying the sights, sounds, and aromas of vice.  Nearly naked nudie, damn stars.  Stars, shit everyone is a star in Las Vegas some are just down on their luck but you don't see them too often mainly just zombies and tourists in lowcut tops, bars & betting, pizza & pots ever increasing because of putz playing.  Flashes, pictures, memories hazing over, reminders, proof of reality collecting.  All of this be easy attitude payed off, no one was fighting or acting the fool in an overly obnoxious way.  Jokes and smiles, laughing loving embrace of the warm air concern to the wind.  Time, bollocks with time too.  Lost/found without a care in the world.
  After one more go in Ceasar's Palace, the next day, we headed out of town drawing to conclusion our Bacchanalian festivities.  We all seemed to welcome the break.  Tired and more than a little pruny we got into our car and headed south back on the 15.  Midnight-ish we passed through Death Valley.  Their thermometer read a cool 94 degrees.  We thought surely it was cooler than that.  I guess to keep up appearances they had to put at least 94 degrees.
  We continued driving through a night lit only by a nearly full moon and an occasional street light.  Around 3:00 or 3:30 we were home unpacking, preparing for the rest we had subconsciously promised ourselves on the trip back.