I'm writing this column from Russellville, Ark., where I've spent the past week with my two boys, Michael and Will.

I always enjoy the time I spend with them and this time was no different. We've had a great week together.

I drove down to Lincoln last Saturday to meet up with friends at the Embassy Suites Hotel, attend the hotels' famous Manager's Reception happy hour, and then my friends and I walked down to P Street to hear The Tijuana Gigolos, followed by Coca Montoya, two great bands performing back to back at the conclusion of Celebrate Lincoln weekend. After the complimentary breakfast on Sunday morning, I drove to Arkansas.

My boys' mother got back in town Tuesday night after spending two weeks in Egypt and Kenya, exploring the pyramids, riding a cruise ship down the Nile River, coming back on a sleeper train (not much different from the Amtrak sleeper train according to her) and concluding her trip with a 5-day safari. Not really the kind of trip I would choose to take but Linda loves that kind of stuff.

 

Last week I wrote about our experiences on Amtrak but didn't have enough room to tell you about our adventures in Reno. Bonow and I first decided to make the trip just to see the majestic beauty of the Rocky Mountains and then decided that as long as we were going to Reno anyway, we should choose a weekend that was going to feature good entertainment. Huey Lewis and the News were performing at the Silver Legacy Hotel and Casino in downtown Reno, so we made our reservations there and bought our tickets for the show.

 

After the grueling train ride, we checked in, cleaned up, and went down to DRINXS, a very lavish and elegant martini bar located in our hotel. The bar was long and mirrored but was full with patrons so Daryl and I took a seat out in the body of the bar. All the seating arrangements were the same; a table with armchairs on one side and a half couch on the other. Bonow picked one of the chairs so I sat on the couch.

We ordered and received our drinks and as Daryl leaned over to retrieve his, he literally began sliding out of the chair. He pulled his hand back to grab the side of the chair but it was too late. He slid right out of the chair and onto the floor, landing on his butt and falling over on his side.

He rolled back over, got on his hands and knees and reached for the chair to steady himself but his hands slid off the arms of the chair and he was on the floor again.

It was the funniest thing I've ever seen. I was desperately trying to retrieve my cell phone from its holster so I could take a picture but I was laughing so hard I couldn't get it done.

He finally crawled back over to the chair on his hands and knees and pulled himself back up and in it. And through the whole process of falling out and trying to climb back in, he never lost the trademark toothpick that was dangling from the corner of his mouth. Every eye in the place was on Bonow and most of them were laughing as hard as I was. It was truly a classic moment.

 

After we finished our drink, we tried to slip out without being noticed (fat chance of that) and headed down to the Grand Ballroom for the concert. We had decent seats (23rd row) and both of us thoroughly enjoyed the concert. The band played all their hits and adult beverages were available in the lobby. The excitement and energy of the concert eased Daryl's earlier embarrassment and both of us enjoyed the experience. We gambled for a while after the concert and then turned in.

 

Saturday was pretty uneventful. A little gambling, a little eating, and a little drinking made up the biggest part of our day. Late in the afternoon, we decided to venture out of the hotel for the first time since we arrived and Reno was exactly as I remembered it from the last time I was there 30 years ago.

Panhandlers, beggars, and ladies of the night were walking up and down the sidewalks, openly soliciting people to either give them money or buy their wares. This is the main reason why most guests choose to stay in their hotels instead of venturing outside.

Not only is it a nuisance but it also doesn't do much to make a person feel safe either. We walked around a four block area and Daryl was ready to go back to the hotel and stay. We listened to a great band in the hotel lounge that night.

Bonow loves to dance so he danced a few times but I was content to watch. Even though I love to dance too, I made a promise a couple of years ago and I try very hard to live up to my promises. We stayed until the lounge closed at 3 a.m.

 

Sunday was checkout day so we had a nice breakfast and then decided to go down to the sports book until it was time to leave.

I had purposely decided to wait until Sunday to get my tattoo and Bonow decided he would go with me because he's never seen anyone get one.

Even though the ad in the paper said the particular parlor I was going to was open seven days a week from 10 until 10, they were closed when we got there and the sign on their door said noon to 10 on Sundays, so we went back to the hotel to wait.

I left a little before noon to go back and by then, Daryl decided he would rather gamble than see someone get a tattoo. As things turned out, that's the best choice he made all week long. 

 

I got back to the tattoo place about 12:15 and it still wasn't open so I walked around until 12:45 but there was still no sign of anyone. I had the address of a different place in my pocket so I walked down a couple of blocks and asked a cab driver how far away this second place was. He said a couple of miles and told me to get in and he would take me.

As we pulled up in front of the place, he asked me if I was sure it was open on Sunday and I replied that their ad said they were open seven days a week but requested he wait until I could make sure. As soon as I walked in the door, the cab drove off.

The guy behind the counter asked me how he could help me, I told him I wanted a tattoo, and he told me I had come in the wrong door, that the tattoo parlor was next door. I went next door and it was locked up tight.

Absolutely no one was around and the shop was dark. I had noticed another tattoo place a couple of blocks away on our drive to this one so I walked up the street to it with the same result. I also noticed I was right in the middle of, shall we say, an economically depressed area of Reno, and all the signs were written in a language I didn't speak or read. But I kept walking.

All in all I stopped at six tattoo places as I walked the two miles back to town and they were all closed.

By the time I got back to the hotel, I was tired, sweaty, and my feet hurt. I told Bonow what had happened and I think he laughed as hard at me as I had laughed at him when he fell out of the chair.

 

He asked me why I just didn't come back to the hotel after I saw the first one obviously wasn't going to open on Sunday and I told him he knows how I am; when I get something in my mind, I'm going to do it or die trying and getting a tattoo that day was my only focus and my only objective before we left to come home. It didn't happen though and I had to wait a week until I went to Lincoln before I was able to get it done.

 

As we were riding the train home, I told Bonow that maybe the train ride wouldn't have been so bad if I had had my sweetie with me because she and I most likely could have found creative ways to pass the time but, with him, all I could do was sit and look at him sitting across from me and, after 74 hours on the train, I had had about all of his face I could take.

 

I can't print his response in a family newspaper.