Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Beautiful Day

It is an ugly day here in the Western burbs of Chicago.
It's rainy, the temp has dropped, the sky is just grey. To cap it all off, I was dodging school busses on my way in this morning. It is a reminder that summer is essentially over.
Yet, ironically, as I waited in the dark kitchen this morning, hunched over the counter, anticipating that first splash of hot coffee in my eyes, a song popped into my head. U2's "Beautiful Day."
The song really didn't do much for me when it was released back around, what, 2000ish? Far be it from to click over to Google for a fact check.
Truth be told, I didn't like it at all then. In fact with a few exceptions, I have fallen completely out of love with U2. I have a simple rule with music, it has to move me. Go figure. And nothing off their last few albums has. There are three exceptions of course: "Walk On" and "In a Little While" off the same album as "Beautiful Day" and "City of Blinding Lights" from How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb.

Other than those, I haven't been "into" a U2 record since Zooropa. Maybe I've just gotten old and little too cynical. I don't relate to a billionaire telling me to save the world. I'm trying to keep my family fed first, then I'll worry about relieving famine elsewhere. So while I still consider myself a socially liberal person in many ways, Bono can more or less suck it. (For what it's worth, I'm sick of Green Day too.)

That said, I have found an appreciation for the song "Beautiful Day." It happened roughly 8 years ago, nearly to the day. It was during my first trip to Las Vegas, August of 2001. A city I would immediately fall in love with and return to many times. And I am not much of a gambler at all. I lose $50 in three days and I'm pissed.
Its the energy there that I love. The vibe if you will (and you must if you choose to read on.)
I was there with my best friend and his little brother, and we were meeting a couple other people. I had recently gotten engaged and this was to be an early bachelor party. Our first morning in Las Vegas, I woke around 5:00 AM because I was on Chicago time so in my body it was 7:00 and time to go to work.
I couldn't get back to sleep so I quietly dressed and slipped out of the room into a hazy desert morning. We were staying at a little dive casino / motel called the Westward Ho. If you've seen Vegas Vacation, there's a scene where Rusty (in his 4th incarnation) buys a fake i.d. on the strip. That was shot outside the Riviera, but for the entire scene you're looking at the Westward Ho behind them. It had these weird umbrella shaped structures with lights twinkling down the sides. Anyway . . .
So I got up, walked across the parking lot to the casino (as I mentioned, it's a MOTEL) and crossed through. I grabbed a coffee and strolled down the sidewalk, past a neighboring joint called Slots-O'-Fun. It was nothing more than an open air casino and bar. They have penny slots and $1 Blackjack. A magnet for High-Rollers this is not, but if you just want to try gambling without getting into too much trouble, this is your place. As I'm walking past I hear the intro to Beautiful Day begin to pump from inside. For no particular reason I stepped in and just meandered through the casino. Immediately I noticed a crowd of guys in their early-thirties who were rolling the bones (that's craps for the laymen) and had empty glasses and bottles lined up all around the table. These guys were partying strong at just before 6 AM.
It occurred to me then that I really was in Las Vegas. I chuckled and found myself humming along with Bono and I circled the casino and stepped back onto the strip. The sun was now bright and hot and the morning haze only a memory like the cash-in-pocket would later become. On the street, I watched cars full of normal people go by, clearly on their way to work, probably in one of the casinos. I thought, what a surreal life these people must live. Yet, I'm sure they go home and it's as normal as life in the Western burbs here. They drive to the Eiffel Tower or a pyramid in the morning, and then back to a three bedroom ranch and two kids and a dog at night like most of us. While inside, middle-class working stiffs are drinking Bud at 5:30AM praying for a hot shooter as the sun rises over the desert.
That's one of a million little memories that make me love Vegas. I suppose that's why I can now say I like the song "Beautiful Day." Maybe that's why it randomly plays in my brain on rainy Wednesday mornings like today.

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