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    Monday, October 14, 2024

    Three Apples

    Life event update time, since there's no Vegas bidness going on.

    There was no question that I would return to the Greacey Palms Senior Putt Putt Trailer Park for the winter, at least, in my mind.

    The summer in Flusherville came and went and the best I can say is I got through it, and had a pretty good Vegas trip last month.

    But things were different all around. The house is physically the same, all the things are here... but without Karen it's just a place, a box of memories and pain, for now anyway.

    It's almost as if my world knows she's gone. The cherry tree out front didn't blossom. The old oak out back that survived the 1998 ice storm, that fought back even though it had been torn literally limb from limb, that even grew new branches here and there, the old, proud sentinel, too tough to give up - fallen into rot in the stone fence. Given up and gone.

    The apple tree that sprouted spontaneously from a thrown apple core long ago didn't bloom much. I looked and looked and all I could see this fall were three sad apples.

    Life is there, ticking over, but a shadow of what it once was. 

    As happens every fall and winter, the change in light sends me reeling into despair and depression. I get as much sun as I can and the feelings come and go, but when it's bad, I'm completely overwhelmed and tears are never far off.

    Add to that the loss of the best friend I could ever have, my partner and soul mate, and it's a recipe for self pity and pain.

    And still, though, I am moving forward. Somehow.

    I know this sounds grim and in a way selfish, but it's the bare truth, and I think you deserve that. It's not that I don't count my blessings, either. I'm so fortunate to have a place to go away from winter, and the means to get there. I'm so fortunate to have had such an amazing marriage with someone who could play 1200 hands of video poker an hour on the right machine. Accurately. I mean, let's get serious here.

    Plans to return to Florida, and play music with my friends down south provided just enough spark to make trudging through the emotional morass of this bit of time worthwhile.

    Preparations start in the summer, and my 9,031 item checklist guides me through all the things that depression makes me want to avoid.

    But another of life's curveballs happened - a disturbance in the gulf that looked to become a hurricane.

    And in the early going, it had a bead right on my house down south.

    Well, everyone who has been anywhere near a TV or news site knows what happened. Milton did form, and kicked the ever living crap out of much of Florida.

    While things were still uncertain, the track drifted south, which I thought was good.

    It wasn't. The very worst of the torrents of rain were to be found in a bloody red Paul Bunyan thumbprint, rain under it drifting across the state for hours. And my house was in the middle of it all.

    I'm not sure I can articulate the anxiety and stress of watching it all unfold. Hours watching every little wiggle, every update from NOAA, every detail on the broadcasts.

    On top of that, the cameras I have mounted on the house let me see the battering we were taking. I worried for my friends and neighbors that decided to ride out the storm. I worried for my property.

    About 11:30 pm while watching one of the feeds, as I fretted about the water that was lapping at my shed door, and looking to get under the house - how high would it rise?? -  it all went black. Power gone.

    I'd get no more direct information till late the next day.

    And in the Greacey Palms, as in much of Florida from Madiera Beach (where the Quad Queen and I honeymooned so many years ago) through to Orlando, it was chaos. Water. Wind. Damage. Destruction. Bradenton. Sarasota. Tampa. St. Pete's. Hillsborough County. Polk County.

    Somewhere north of a foot of rain fell on the Greacey Palms.

    Well, the house survived. A neighbor sent a photo that showed the water up to the shed door entrance. There's water under the house, but I'm hopeful it isn't too much and the AC ducts underneath have been spared. I lost some siding and an awning.

    But saddest of all for me, was the loss of the struggling but beautiful Jacaranda tree that Karen so loved. It had become a symbol of her for me, and I treasured it. That tree had already been knocked down a number of times, and I did everything I could to nurse it along.

    Milton, that fucker, broke it off. Not even that little thing was spared this year. It's as if the magic that Karen brought into my life has all blown away, wet leaves, dust, pieces of a house, oak trees.

    Wednesday morning, I start my journey to Florida for the winter, and I will see for myself.

    So, so many have lost so, so much because of Milton, people I know in the park, people for miles and miles and miles around. I got off lucky.

    And yet. A house is just a thing, as I found. It's the people that are in it that matter.

    And maybe life will be okay, maybe it will not be so hollow. Because there's a couple of things.

    That apple tree out back gave three apples. It takes but one seed to make a tree, just as that tree was made.

    And when I told my cousin from Titusville about the loss of Karen's Jacaranda, you know what she told me?

    "I have a Jacaranda in my back yard. I'll save you some seeds."

    What life seeds do I have left at age 64 to shelter and nurture and experience? I don't know. I just hope there are some. Even if it's just three apple's worth.







    Poor Jacaranda.

    Karen, with 'fresh out of the pool Einstein hair', watering the tree.


    Flowered beautifully, taken tragically.





    Saturday, September 14, 2024

    A Good Snag

    Day 7 Tuesday Sept 10, 2024

    I woke just before dawn and watched the sun come up over the smoke-shrouded mountains.


    After yesterday's quad-fest, I almost wished I was going home today. I feel pretty satisfied with how this trip has gone. I've had fun, hung out with friends, and I'm up on the trip. I re-learned that I could really enjoy being here alone. The only box unticked is getting a Royal.

    I decided I would set a limit of $100 for the day to ensure that this trip ends up a winner - something that is tough to do. Consider two trips ago, I was even until the last two days, and then lost $300 a day to finish down $600. And last trip was a complete blowout, with a loss of $2400 (but think of the comped rooms!).

    And, I suppose it can be said that part of that loss has come back as the room offers I enjoyed this trip.

    In any case, I intend to finish a winner. I just need discipline.

    Does anyone have some they can lend me?

    The morning went as usual, with some Punishment Nuts and coffee, and typey-typey.

    Remember when I said I didn't trust MGM's accounting systems? I checked my folio and sure enough, $11 is on the bill for dinner Hussong's. I happen to know that I'd charged about $80 to the room, plus the $33 boofay - which the front desk Sheila told me to put on the room and it would be taken care of.

    So, what clearly happened was that it was not taken care of, putting me over the $100 resort credit by $11 when you add the four things together. That's why half a Hussong was on there.

    Same old shit. Another visit to the front desk.

    I had a good idea how to deal with this though. I explained the situation and pointed out how crappy the internet is in my room - and it is spectacularly useless.

    I'll cut to the chase. I negotiated the removal of the boofay from my bill, and the covering of the rest of Hussong's - and, the removal of one night's resort fee to cover the second boofay.

    This is pretty good because I'd already had one boofay comped by the slot boothling on arrival, and now I've had a second one comped and I've saved the cost of a resort fee out of pocket for what the desk thinks is the second boofay - except I'm not going to pay cash. I'm keeping the $37 plus tax saving on the resort fee and using comp dollars.

    If you followed all that, you deserve a medal.

    On top of that, I still have $20 of room on my resort credit. I'll probably 'splurge' on a Johnny Rocket's $22 cheeseburger.

    I can't believe it's come to this. Gouge, gouge, gouge, every time you turn around.

    That sorted, I went to work on the video poker. I had a decent session, dwindling my hundred dollar stake down to almost nothing over the course of a couple of hours or so, and then winning most of it back. 

    I had one quad in there, of little consequence.

    Next stop, lunch, and the only thing worth noting was that I found a bag of drugs on the floor. I didn't touch it, and alerted the boofay staff, who sent the chef over, who happened to be standing nearby watching for people who might be stuffing green apples in their pockets or something.

    The chef watched over the drugs until help arrived.

    I had just enough comp dollars to cover lunch, which was made up of this and that and another omelette. 




    I like a good snag as much as any larrikin, mate, but you can keep your apostrophes out of my bottom.

    After lunch, I took a break in the room, including a half hour shower and a shave. I'm on a well at home, and do without such things until I get to Florida for the winter.


    Then, video poker, the final conflict. The $100 lasted an hour and a quarter. I did get a few quads, but not nearly enough of them to keep it going.

    And that's it. Gambling done.



    Damn.

    No Royal this trip. Again. The last one was May, 2022.

    I took a walk outside to warm up - the casino is frigid. I'm not walking as much today, so I put a few steps on, anyway.

    And that's pretty much it for this trip. I shut it down and stuck to my guns and preserved the win.

    I had a quiet night at Excalibur, and I'm awake early to get my ass to the airport and get home.

    Budget

    Without a doubt, my goal to be a Cheap Magnificent Bastard has been accomplished. Not only did I pretty much stay within my budget, I managed to win money in Las Vegas.

    And I had a great time doing it.

    To date, I have not paid out of pocket for a meal on this trip, but that will change today during the trip home.

    The most amazing part is the incredible support shown me by you savvy readers.

    I thank you one and all for all of the ko-fi and PayPal donations. I don't have a huge readership, but my followers are loyal.

    If I didn't have anybody to tell what happened on these trips, I'd feel a lot more lonely. You make it fun.

    One of the best things on this trip - if not the best - was spending time with friends I've made through the blog. 

    Actual Total Expenses so far are $501.

    I spent a little extra on the flight by paying for window seats near the front of the plane. I'll desperately need that on the way home, because my layover in Philadelphia is less than an hour.

    I also spent on Lyft, which I hadn't budgeted for.

    My bill at Excalibur is $125 and I'd budged $176, so that kind of covers the Lyft charges. And I only bought one $10 three day bus pass, not two.

    I expect I will incur some charges on the way home - there will be a Lyft to the airport, not the bus, and I'll have to eat something at some point - I'm finishing the last of the punishment nuts as I write this.

    The gambling, compared to other typical trips, was stellar.

    I'm leaving Las Vegas with more cash than I arrived with.

    I had 4 winning days and 3 losing days for a total win on the trip of $242.

    If that isn't being a Cheap Magnificent Bastard, I don't know what is.

    Stay savvy,

    Royal Flusher




    Thursday, September 12, 2024

    I am a Cheap Magnificent Bastard

    Day 8 Wed Sept 11, 2024

    The final, ultimate, ending wrap-up results and comp accounting spin post...

    But this trip is not over.

    My flight home was LAS to PHL, and then PHL to Watertown (ART) with only a 35 minute layover.

    Take-off from Vegas was delayed by 45 minutes, and I was re-booked for Thursday by the American auto-bot. When we touched down in Philadelphia, there was probably just enough time for me to make my flight - except there was no gate, and we sat on the Tarmac (TM) for almost an hour.

    American Fuck You Airlines would do nothing for me. The pilot had said the delay was because of a mechanical problem, but what does he know. It was probably the extreme California smoke wildfire in Vegas.

    I booked a room at the Hampton Inn Philadelphia International Airport room on the HHonors app for $150 and took the free shuttle over there.

    It's ironic that I spent a total of $125 for 7 nights in Vegas, and this place is $150 for one night.

    And oh my God, what a dump.

    People love to say places are a dump, but when I say this place is a dump, I'm in serious dump city. The dump factor here is off the dump charts. From the dumpy carpet to the dumpy walls to the dumpy bathroom - everywhere you go there is dump stench and eye-searing dumpitude.

    Calling this place a shithole would be a compliment.

    I could disgust you with a plethora of photos of the filth in the joint - but I'll just share a couple.



    I had dinner at Ruby Tuesday's - right next door, and the only option.


    It was okay but the dump proximity to the Dumpton Inn had rubbed off on the staff. These dishes stayed there... and stayed there... until I finally asked the server to take them away.


    I asked for more napkins (because wings) and she brought me a small handful of cocktail napkins. I have no idea.

    Back in the room, I buried myself in TV - I was actually afraid wary of going to bed. There was no pull-down blind - somewhere along the line it broke, and was never replaced. So there was just a sheer valiantly attempting to block the two hundred parking lot lights just outside, each giving approximately 1M candlepower of sun-blinding white light.

    My eyelids did their work and I managed to sleep.

    No way was I showering in that bathroom, so I brushed my teeth (no cups in the room, big surprise) and went down to enjoy the included complimentary breakfast, which was - do I really have to say?



    I managed to find a few calories, but refugee oatmeal in a stolen California Hotel and Casino mug would have been 99 Michelin fucking stars by comparison to the Dumpton hotel breakfast.

    As soon as was humanly possible, I took the shuttle out of there to the airport, where I had about four and a half hours to kill.

    While having a coffee in terminal F, I went over my options for compensation.

    My flight was booked through RBC Avion program, on points. And I used the RBC card for the fees. I always make sure to use the same card, as I have a vague recollection that there might be some form of trip interruption insurance - if you use the card and points to book.

    Which I did.

    I called the 0.75 pt font 800 number hidden on the back of the Visa card... it probably isn't that small to you kindergarten youngsters under 55 - but for this 'almost senior' it's laughable.

    Fortunately, my piPhone 3.14 has a magnifier app and I know how to fumble it open.

    I had a nice chat after making sure not to 'appuyer le Numero un pour Francais' and the agent, Nadine, confirmed that yes, I do have coverage for trip interruption costs such as my hotel and some food.

    She's sent an email with the deets on how to make a claim.

    Some wandering around left me with... just four hours to kill till my flight to Watertown, and then an hour and a half or so drive back to Flusherville.

    There are some cool art exhibits in the PHL airport.

    I wandered back, I wandered forth, I sat in various places.

    Dead on noon, I called lunchtime, and enjoyed a delicious burrito bowl.

    It was $13, tax included, and hopefully would be covered by my insurance claim. I wonder how much a cheeseburger is at the airport? I bet it's cheaper than on the strip's $22, which tells you how far wrong we've gone as a species.

    Just before boarding my flight, the gate agent announced they needed three passengers to volunteer to get bumped in return for a free flight voucher.

    I thought seriously about this - for about 0.82 seconds. No. Not today. Not after an already 32 hour journey.

    We got loaded up, waited in line with 10 other planes for the runway for about half an hour, and then it was wheels up and bye bye Philly.


    We landed (obviously), my car was there, the Tercel keys were still with me, it started, and besides making a quick stop for some supplies and duty free liquor, I skedaddled across the border and made it home to Flusherville at suppertime.

    Final Accounting Spin and Results

    The Cheap Magnificent Bastard Trip is done.

    And by God, I am a certified Cheap Magnificent Bastard!

    I did it!

    I killed it!

    My out of pocket expenses were $516. I won (!) $246 gambling. That brings the net cost out of pocket to a measley $270 for a week long trip to Vegas, all in, including airfare. Plus, I was the beneficiary of a number of ko-fi donations that covered the $270 cost! What a fantastic result, and again, I thank you for your support!

    I'm not including the expenses in Philadelphia, because I will be getting those back from credit card insurance (I hope).

    Match Plays

    The expected value of match plays in the long run is way positive, so the conventional wisdom is to do every match play you can get your hands on.

    Through the Las Vegas Advisor Boner Book of Interstellar Values, the El Cortez boarding pass promotion, the Circa 'Say Hi to Matthew' promotion, and the gift of four Golden Gate match play chips from Dr. Shiboubou, I had a decent number of attempts to work from. Here's how it ended up.

    Match Plays done: 12
    Match Plays won: 6
    Match Play win rate: 50%
    Bets cost:  $310
    Amount won: $470
    Profit: $160

    With a bit of luck, I could have done a lot better. If I'd won just one more $25 match play, my take would have been $235. But as it is, I won the expected number of bets - exactly half of them.

    Comps

    This is where it gets fun. I valued the rooms by looking at the going rate for the dates of my trip. Because they were within range of what I would actually be willing to pay out of pocket, I kept those values.

    Between airfare ($400), rooms ($697), resort credit, food and buffets ($238), match play wins ($160), and all the bits and pieces of free play, the total comp value comes out to $1,827.  

    Add the out of pocket cost of $516 and the total value of the trip was $2,343.

    I think that's extraordinarily good - a $2300 trip for about $500, and I won $246 gambling on top of it.

    There's not much more to say - this trip was a total success. I had a fantastic time, got to hang out with friends, won in the casino, and enjoyed amazing support from savvy readers. 

    Thanks again for reading, and if you enjoyed the report, a ko-fi is always welcome. It does take out of pocket costs to run the blog, and of course, it takes two to three hours per blog entry to put it all together.

    Yrs,

    Royal Flusher 





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