Stopping at Red

As I sprayed a jet of water from the hose into my wheel wells I hoped to get rid of the black mess that was covering the once silver hubcaps of my car. At last they were clean, then by the time I pulled out of the drive way and into the parking lot next door they were black all over again. If that was all that was happening I might have been baffled, but due to the screeching and grinding sounds that would erupt from the brakes of my car when stopping, the massive amount of brake dust that was continuously accumulating confirmed that already known fact that I desperately needed breaks.

The appointment was made and I pulled into the Bruce Scher's Goodyear, where my brake problems would be left for good. I walked into the office and suddenly realized this was the same location I had visited only a few weeks before when my car would debate with me whether or not it would in fact drive when I would hit the gas pedal, (an issue that was easily solved by replacing the sludge covered spark plugs). Here I was back in the office and despite the usual bit of a wait time for someone to walk in and realize I was waiting, I was in the computer system and they were ready to take a look at my nonexistent brakes.

Over the course of the time I spent in the waiting room, I watched as cars came in and out of the giant, roll up garage doors and the front office door opened and closed with new and returning customers. Although each customer grew slightly impatient over the lack of office staff at the front desk and the long wait for attention, not a single customer seemed to think the service wasn’t worth the wait. The location was surrounded by various mechanics, brake teams and part stores and yet customers endured the wait for what they believed to be the better mechanic and I didn’t hear a single complaint about the quality of car service received.

Thanks to bad daytime TV, continuous political news updates from apps and a good book, two and a half hours of waiting felt like a mere two hours flat and before long I heard my name called from the lobby. There are few times when hearing your own name sends a rush of excitement through you and you jump to your feet. Sitting in a waiting room waiting to drive your newly fixed car is one of those times. From the sounds of it, needing new brakes was a bit of an understatement but their team managed to get me everything I needed to be able to abide by the red octagonal signs that were in my driving future.

So maybe you don’t wait until your car is literally screaming for help at every red light for some changes in it’s automotive makeup but regardless of the severity or routine maintenance needed, I can honestly say that as a return customer, I’d highly recommend this location for mechanic necessities and tune-ups.

For more information on Bruce Scher's Goodyear and the services they offer visit their website and feel free to check them out on Facebook and give them a ‘like’.

...For the record, despite car malfunctions and a constant need for a mechanic, I am a very safe driver J

Magic, Music and Wit

The lights were dim, tables lined a wall that were covered in an array of various appetizers and the bar tenders were busy pacing back and forth from ice bin to fridge filling the fast paced drink orders being placed. Robin Leach sat next to the bar watching people pass by him. Lance Burton sat back on a couch talking with friends, occasionally jumping to his feet to take pictures with fans. Siegfried Fischbacher was chatting with fans while simultaneously posing for photos.

It was the premier night of the all-new Vegas Magic Theatre, at the Gold Coast Hotel and Casino and magicians, media and spectators crowded around for a chance to see it first.  But the show wasn’t starting just yet, first thing was first; mingle, drink and eat.

While sitting at the bar prior to the start of the show, local magician Adam Flowers came by to demonstrate some slight-of-hand. As he made rings pass through a solid piece of rope, cards appear at the top of a deck with a snap of the finger and a cigarette flip and turn in mid air, I couldn’t help but smile and giggle with utter frustration. As he left us sitting puzzled it was time to make our way into the theatre and take a seat for the show.

Red drapes covered the stage; dim lights lit the room well enough to make our way to an open table and with a quick flicker of the house lights we knew we were only a few short minutes away from the start of the show.

Magic, music and comedy combined together into a 70-minute show that amused, confused and frustrated the heck out of me. Don’t get me wrong I love magic shows, but as a journalist I don’t work well with unanswered questions, so having a scarf continuously turn into a bird and people disappear and reappear right in front of me with no explanation of how it’s done is quite frustrating. My level of frustration for the night proved nothing more than the skill level of the magicians brought in to entertain audience members for the show.

Thursday night’s premier featured magician Mike Douglas, the hilarious 'Dennis the Menace' of Magic Murray SawChuck, comedian and juggler Michael Goudeau, American Idol finalist Jasmine Trias and show host Ben Stone. The show was quirky, funny and featured a musical talent in addition to humor and magic. With a comedy club atmosphere, the show set-up features a new line-up of acts each and every week.  

Vegas Magic Theatre takes to the stage Thursday – Sunday and each show hosts an hour event for mingling in the Magic Lounge where slight-of-hand artists entertain patrons prior to the main show.

For more information on Vegas Magic Theatre call 702-367-7111 or visit goldcoastcasino.com.

(STAY TUNED FOR VIDEO FROM THE NIGHT)

First Fight

For the entirety of my life, and still to this day I have never been a fan of fighting. While others in school would pick fights with the yearbook and journalism nerds I would continuously defeat my opponents by becoming friends with them and avoiding conflict. In this arena however, conflict was what was expected and the longer the fight played out, the more cheers it would solicit. Breaking away from my consistent avoidance of observing conflict I entered the arena and sat back to partake of my first UFC fight.

Hip hop and dance music took turns playing back and forth over the loud speakers with intermittent pauses as photos were shown on the six big projection screens set up around the top of the arena. As the photos shown and scrolled through, interviews and bios of the men about to make their big appearance were played to the thousands of fans that sat in their chairs.

Then without delay, music would shift and the fans let out a roar of clapping and shouting as the announced fighter emerged into the arena from the side tunnels below the stands to make their way toward the center octagon.

As each bout started and ended, I found myself cheering on for my selected fighter, who I had chosen to root for based on who had the better entrance music before the round. As punches and kicks were thrown and fighters were thrown to the ground by their opponents, I continuously found myself thinking two things: 1. Why? and 2. Why!? Despite my questions going unanswered, I continued to watch in awe of the spectacle and while watching the cheering fans I was unsure of who was more intimidating, the fighters or the fans.

The size of the fighters was increasing by the round and by the time the main card fight came around the size of the fighter’s neck had the same radius of one of my thighs. It was obvious this was the heavyweight bout, and by this time I had abandoned my technique of music selection to root for the winner. Now I had started to listen to the fighter’s bio and introduction to determine my favorite but with two strong backgrounds from Alistair Overeem and Brock Lesnar. I choose to root for Lesnar, (a choice I had determined by looking at the fight card photos, and had established that Lesnar’s photo hinted a nice-guy side more than Overeem’s.) 

As the round got close to beginning not an empty seat in the arena was visible. Each punch they threw at each other echoed up to the higher seats and in return fans would give a verbal grunt or cheer accordingly. Within two and a half minutes and one vicious kick to the liver and Lesnar was knocked out and Overeem was declared the winner. Cheers and Boos mixed into an overall screaming noise that echoed off the ceiling of the arena. Each fighter took a moment to speak to the crowd who was cheering Overeem and boo-ing Lesnar.

“I’m officially going to say tonight was the last night you will ever see me in the octagon,” Lesnar announced to the crowd who was boo-ing the loosing fighter. As his words sunk in, the ‘boos’ began to cease and a drone of silence took over as people listened.

Lesnar explained that he had made a promise to his family that if he had won the fight he would go for the title fight and retire afterward, but since he lost tonight was his last fight. The non-existant ‘boos’ has ceased and a roar of clapping took over as fans stood to applaud the heavyweight fighter and send him into retirement with an honorable walk out of the octagon.

Once Lesnar was done speaking, Overeem spoke to the crowd about his win and about his competition and his choice to retire, a choice he didn’t seem to agree he should make. Just as quickly as the arena had filled, it was now nearly empty and people rushed from their seats to their next place for evening.

For my first fight I can honestly say I enjoyed it, however despite the overall excitement and the entertainment of the night I still walked through the thousands of fans and wondered…why?