Ka is a Wheel—Whether it’s a Stephen King term or a Vegas Show!

Before we left for Las Vegas, we set our world in motion and at the same time, froze it still in time. The lawsuit was filed, the charity logistics were formed loosely, and the structural repairs on Leela and Bluey (we name our cars for fun) were stabilized. We didn’t just go on vacation; we staged a tactical retreat from our responsibilities so we could disconnect completely and find our own frequency again. I know that I had no idea how fully that would happen, and neither did Lisa.

The Ascent: First Class and High Spirits

We started with something different. We flew first class—a first for Lisa and only a second for me (once on a work trip and yes it was under cap!). It wasn’t about being "fancy"; it was about the psychological necessity of a different perspective. We gave ourselves permission to let go. We had drinks freely but not excessively—the kind of subtle, sustained relaxation where neither of us was required to stay sober to drive. It turns out that when you stop bracing for the next administrative failure or legal hurdle, "subtle drunkenness" has genuine health benefits. Also some “hulk” possibilities, but that might be for a blog about the physical effects of all of this crazy stuff that’s been going on with our bodies with all of this stress. Maybe Lisa’s personal training page could be a fun place for that…

The Double Doors and the "Perfect Scam"

When we arrived, there was no shuttle for the hotel and I was feeling much more like paying for a taxi than an Uber or Lyft. That’s probably a whole blog of its own, so let’s get to the hotel. Checking into Planet Hollywood, the kiosks failed, forcing us to the counter. I’d already pre checked in and installed the app and all that other stuff, so this was obviously to specifically get us to hear a sales pitch. The clerk gave us the classic Vegas pitch: a suite upgrade, normally $600 extra, for just $100 a night. Normally, I would see that as a scam. However, we’d been having a good conversation with the guy (wish I’d caught his name, and maybe it’ll come back to me). Anyway, we saw it as a bet on our own joy. We saw the raise and called.

We won.

Yeah.

That’s what we walked into. Not that night, it was dark. This was the next morning with natural light.

Walking down the hallway, we passed room after room of single doors until we hit a set of Double Doors. The suite was bigger than our first apartment, featuring a four-chair dining table, a mini-bar, and a free-standing couples' swinging lounge overlooking the 29th-floor view. That first night was the beginning of a profound physical and emotional reconnection—the kind of rekindling that only happens when the team is finally back together in a space they’ve claimed for themselves. We hadn’t planned much, but we could both tell that all of a sudden we were ready for ANYTHING.

The Sphere: 16k Serendipity

We averaged close to 20,000 steps a day, walking the Strip with a sense of wonder, amazement, and genuine love. Eventually, those steps led us to The Sphere. I went for the technical geek-out—the 16K resolution and the 5D haptics—but the universe had other plans. Lisa was happily along for the ride of me habitually over-explaining every detail I see and can explain. It started innocently enough with pointing out which “doors” were just projections on the screen and showing that the curtain lighting was different from ambient along with no code-required exit signs. Of course when the movie started it was obvious what was what, but I’d begun my routine of thinking out loud.

During the twister in The Wizard of Oz, the wind kicked up and tissue-paper leaves flew everywhere. I loved pointing out the fans to Lisa and showing how I expected the wind pattern to go based on the size and alignment of the fans. I tried to catch one of the blowing leaves and failed several times. Seeing that the wind pattern was pretty close to what I thought, I realized that our section was unlikely to have any settle and where they would likely congregate. I sat back, letting the moment go. A full minute after the effects ended and the air went still, a single leaf floated down and landed squarely on my chest.

The fans had been shut down for over a minute, and I’d already scanned the air to see if there were any “floaters” out there. I wasn’t paying attention because I’d evaluated the situation and decided the moment had passed. The universe disagreed. That one was mine.

“Hey, Dude. Thanks. You know that Mom would love one of those apples. I’ll see what I can do, but I’d love to see what you can do.”

That was the thought in my head after having a little piece of tissue paper land on me well late from the intentional forces. Well, then came the apples. During the orchard scene, I watched the foam apples fall from the chutes, calculating the trajectories with an engineer’s eye. I was happily watching my predictions come mostly true and decided that our section wasn’t great for that, either. Then I’d decided to head off to the right and snag an unclaimed one when it all stopped. When the effect ended, running after one didn’t feel right and I changed my mind that we’d just see what happened on the way out and that there was no need to get out of my seat and that we should just enjoy the rest of the movie.

One last apple fell.

It didn’t bounce or roll; it landed directly in Lisa’s lap almost as if it had been placed there by hand. In a theater of thousands, the math of the universe singled us out. Do what you will with that factual account; we were fully in the moment. This trip wasn’t just Vegas odds.

Those are genuine smiles, and they didn’t stop for days!

The Nightmare Alley

Friday was for the "Nightmare." We started with breakfast at Flights and a "Monster Yard" glass from Fat Tuesday’s, then shared a salad from Earl of Sandwich—we shared every meal that week, a simple, perfect alignment. Alice Cooper and Criss Angel’s "Welcome to Our Nightmare" was more than a show; it was a hub of connection. We met a new couple there, and connected digitally with the couple we’d met just days earlier at the Sebastian Bach show in Charleston. The world felt small, and for once, that was a good thing.

Before the show, we wanted to get the obligatory t-shirt but I’d also seen a lenticular print the day before and I REALLY wanted one. I did say I geek out on some stuff, so when we were getting our merch I was just remarking to the nice fellow at the register that it was particularly well done. I also noticed that they had signed ones, and I wasn’t planning to spend that for a poster but it was a rather unique experience so sure. Well, he also tells me that “the lady over there in the jean jacket” had something to do with creating them. I looked at Lisa and without a word we both headed right that way. We caught up with her and I was able to compliment the quality and have a great chat about the technical process for those pieces. That conversation ended with an organic handing out of a guitar pick, as we weren’t on a mission with them; only genuine interactions. Merch with heart! On to the show!

Before the show started, the ringmaster was telling everyone that people would be selected to come up to the stage to try on Alice’s straight jacket; all you had to do was be loud.

You didn’t have to tell me twice!

I hollered and screamed my head off, and watched as about a dozen or so people got called to line up for their chance. Well, I didn’t get picked so I sat back down. I went back to my conversation with the guy to my right (Randy) and figured I’d missed out. No biggie.

Okay, I had to be told twice.

Lisa told me, “Hey, Stoopid! They’re calling for more.” Well, I stood up and locked on the assistant closest to me. “Dude, help me be louder than ever” and I screamed “BACK ROW CENTER!!!!” while wildly waving my horns in the air. Their eyes locked with mine, and the Criss Angel look-alike pointed right at me! I was the farthest back by far, about four or five rows, and he definitely picked me. Up to the stage for a very rare chance, which I knew would come with a price tag. Well, it was priceless, just like the experience of Lisa and I being at that show in the first place. It was the only time I’d wished that I’d brought the Top Hat, but it still seemed right to leave it. It was an amazing evening!

I may have been very excited!

As Deadpool would’ve said, at least I wore the brown pants…

Saturday pre-Easter Feaster’s Grievings

Saturday took us to Area15 for Universal’s "Horror Unleashed." It was exactly our brand of chaos—a curated nightmare that felt like home. We didn’t have anything else planned for the day, so the morning was an awesome Mexican breakfast quesadilla and Birria tacos. Lots of walking and then we headed to the horror show. We worked it up a bit more in our minds, but it was very fun. We’d originally thought we’d spend most of the evening over there, but we got there a bit early, had no idea how anything worked, figured it out, had something break, figured it out, had another snafu, figured it out, and made it through all of the haunted houses. We’d met the Feaster Bunny, survived the classic horrors, the Texas Chainsaw, the Scarecrow, and The Exorcist. We saw a couple of variety shows, and we were done. Back to the room because we had no agenda and it all felt curated for us. A little light gambling and we closed out the night with another Fat Tuesday’s Daquirita (whatever frozen drink combo).

The Sunday Homage

Sunday was the perfect day. No plans, just us. We hit the gym, ordered brunch from Caramella, and leaned into an "unfancy" homage to our history.

The First Date: Sprite and fries (Ramsay’s version). We saw the movie “Up Close and Personal.” It’s not a great movie, but we’ve seen it a few times over the years. It wasn’t planned. It was what was figured out.
The Wedding Night: "All the Meats" pizza (Pinup Pizza version). We were exhausted from a performative wedding that we never wanted. We love our families enough that we compromised with doing a small one and things weren’t great with personal relationships at the time, so not all of our families were there. That’s another reason it wasn’t exactly what we wanted. Regardless, the dinner and movie were purely things of opportunity. The movie? Well the hotel cable didn’t have much and we settled on “Soldier.” Also not a great movie. It was what was figured out.

We realized that thirty years ago, we started our lives without a plan and figured it out. We’re still figuring it out, and there isn't anything we haven't been able to solve yet.

The 30-Year Loop

Monday brought the "Ka is a Wheel" moment. We had narrowed our show options down to two: Penn & Teller or Wayne Newton. We picked Wayne. Only after we bought the tickets did we see the title of the show: "Up Close and Personal."

In 1996, our very first date was at the Athena Theater in Athens Ohio to see the movie Up Close and Personal. Thirty years later, just after Wayne’s 84th birthday, we were keeping that loop going. We opted to skip seeing the Cirque de Soleil show “Ka” and instead experienced a Stephen King version of Ka. We both felt another sense of being in the exact right place. We were actually beaming with happiness to see this legend of performance, and I’m sure it was visible on our faces. We purchased cheaper seats due to the expenses getting up there a bit, and a few minutes before the show we were asked if we’d like to move up to the second row. We never just move seats, but if an usher offers then sure.

Several times during the show, Lisa and I are certain that being able to see a younger couple (comparatively, now, we know we’re not actually young!) smiling so genuinely was something that made his performance even more real. It’s unmistakable when a performer not only looks and nods your way, but you can see their face change when you return the look in a genuine way. It was very up close and personal, without even needing one-on-one interaction. It was for us, and it was exactly what we needed.

Side note, if anyone wants to clap back about Wayne Newton then we’ll have that discussion in a Slaughter to Prevail pit. Wayne is a legend. So is Alex.

The Fake Peace and the Final Pivot

Not everything was perfect kismet. There was the "Peace Monk" on the Strip—a man performing the role of a spiritual guide. When I offered him love in the form of a "Speak Up For Julian" guitar pick in exchange for his "peace," the mask slipped. He turned into a mean-spirited asshole the moment the transaction didn't fit his script. It was a reminder of the difference between performative peace and the raw, difficult, genuine love we carry.

When we realized Monday morning that I’d misaligned the hotel and flight schedules, meaning we had to leave a day early, there was no anger. We accepted it and pivoted. Leaving early was perfect. It was the universe telling us the mission was accomplished and it was time to get back to the work.

The Conclusion

We didn't establish anything by being fancy or following a manual. We just went with it, accepted the glitches, and found the beauty in the pivots. The team is back, the fire is burning, and we have the experience to show it.