2007-07-01 - 1:48 p.m.
Nya and I flew into Vegas on Friday evening, May 25th. We just had time to check into our room at the Stratosphere Hotel. It was a wheelchair-accessible honeymoon suite. I was very glad they have this and apparently realize that crips get married too. It was huge, with a front room that had a big dining table (higher than average so a wheelchair easily slides under it), big-ass TV, sofa, etc. The power wheelchair I had rented (oversized, for reasons which will become clear later) was there waiting for me.
The first activity called for on our wedding website was an �unofficial� cocktail hour (�unofficial� meaning buy your own drinks). It was at the C Bar, about which we knew nothing. It turned out it was in the middle of the casino floor, not the quietest spot to catch up with old friends. As if it weren�t loud enough already, a horrible cover band soon started wailing away, doing a weird mix of funk and 80s hair metal. Think a (bad) cover of �Brick House� followed by a (bad) cover of �I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight�.
I was nervous because not a lot of people showed up. Nya�s brother and next-door neighbor and father and uncle came. My godfather and sister and Jonathan (and wife). And our �maid of honor�, who was actually Nya�s gay male friend (my sister was the �best man� to complete the gender reversal). But a lot of people didn�t come who I knew were already at the hotel. In retrospect, we shouldn�t have phrased the invitation so casually. We�d see who came tomorrow.
The next day, we had a central event � the Liberace lunch. It was at Carluccio�s Tivoli Gardens, a restaurant owned � and decorated! � by Liberace himself back in the day. We got there a bit late, which turned out to be a good thing, as it gave guests a chance to mingle and meet each other. When we came in there were a good 40+ people there, having drinks in the front room. It was so great to see everyone, some of whom we hadn�t seen in person in years and only emailed. We all went into the restaurant proper to eat.
The interior room was in full Liberace style, with little lights covering everything and awesomely gaudy furniture. And a mirror-covered piano to one side. This was key because midway through the meal (chicken cacciatore and sausage and peppers), the Liberace impersonator we had gotten came out. He welcomed us all (wearing an amazing fur cape), did a bit of schtick, and said he�d be back before dessert to perform.
Now, the dark secret of the Liberace impersonator is that he�s straight. He�s married and that was his 9-year old son working the sound system. Las Vegas is an amazing city � a grown straight man can make a living impersonating a flamboyant gay entertainer. Imagine how he explains that to his son: �See, I love Mommy, but I dress up in capes and flirt with men because the money�s right.� My parents� friends who live in Vegas see him at the supermarket and had no idea what he did until they saw him perform for us. What a town.
When he came back to do his set, he was wearing a different outfit. It was a great show. He played a bunch of songs (including �Hot, Hot, Hot!�, actually recorded after Liberace�s death, but which I think he would have covered if he�d heard it), told jokes, went into the audience and shimmied and flirted. It was great! I�m so glad we got a Liberace impersonator. Cause you know, Elvis impersonators are just so played out...
Although after dessert, Liberace�s Elvis impersonator friend (who was there, though not in costume) serenaded Nya with �Love Me Tender�. I think all our guests had a good time and everyone left happy. My parents even offered to pay for the lunch at the end, which was certainly a help (even if we�d already paid for the impersonator and a deposit on the restaurant). Nya and I took a wheelchair cab back to our hotel and got ready for the comedy club that night.
We went over to the Riviera Hotel & Casino for the 8:30 comedy show. The comedy club was tucked away way in the back of the casino and it was quite a project getting there. Even more people came to this. Nya�s mother and stepfather had arrived by then and paid for the tickets, which again was very nice (and unexpected � I had thought Nya�s mom wanted no involvement in the wedding). We took our seats in the club and people bought me a drink and Nya a soda.
Comedy is of course why Nya and I moved to Chicago (although really sketch comedy, not stand-up). Unfortunately, most of the comedians here just weren�t very funny. I guess they at least get points for having the guts to get up there and put themselves out. The MC at least opened with a joke. Not a very funny one (I think it was about a little kid hiding out in his house), but comedians don�t usually tell jokes these days, mostly instead relating anecdotes and observations. So, good effort at least I guess.
The opening comic was pretty funny. Unfortunately, quite a few guests came late to the show and missed this, the only good part. The opener read his responses to emails he�d been sent after his shows (one thanked him for keeping his routine clean and not using curse words, to which he replied �Fuckin� A!��). I thought he should have been the headliner instead of the next guy, who was older but definitely not funnier.
In fact, the next guy�s age may have informed his terrible comedy. He was old-school sexist in a way you (fortunately) rarely find anymore and which certainly doesn�t play well on stage. �See, men only speak 2000 words a day! Women speak 9000 , but 7000 of them don�t make any sense!� Sheesh. Take my wife� please. That may have worked in the 1950s, but thankfully it really doesn�t fly today. He went on like this for a good twenty minutes, alas.
So, I�m afraid the comedy club was far less fun than the Liberace lunch. Can�t win them all, I guess. After the show was over, Nya and I stopped a tattoo/piercing place on our way home. I needed to get one of my earrings put back in, because I�d taken it out to get an MRI in December (it turned out the hole had closed over and had to be re-pierced � a bit painful in the upper cartilage). Nya wanted a second set of earlobe earrings with blue beads. You know � something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.
Because we were getting married the next day�
� 2007 Geoff Gladstone
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