Vegas Day 3, Liveblogging from the pool
So let's talk about Elton John. I have to say, not being a real active fan of the man, that was a pretty sweet concert. When we arrived we discovered it was his 200th performance in Vegas, which meant we were all treated to free feather boas to wear through the show, and which delighted my mother to no end (she'd seen one earlier at the gift shop, squealed, and vowed to buy one after the show). At least, they were pretty sweet until we left and realized they had molted all over us.
The music was accompanied by a pretty awesome display of films by David LaChapelle and giant blow up suggestive friuts and/or explicit body parts (pleased to refer you to Flickr), including the largest blow up stripper the world has ever seen. The films were largely modern/interpretive dance which was, let's be honest, a little gay. Except the film for Someone Saved My Life Tonight, which was spectacularly, amazingly gay. Like rainbows and fairy boy angels and unicorns gay. It was also the point at which we graduated from plain ol' naked fake titties everywhere to straight up flaming vag. Literally. Flaming.
No encore though, which is unfortunate. My mother had a blast, especially since it was essentially a tribute to the early 70's (and peace and protests for civil rights and hooray women and gays!), and so in addition to the bright orange tie-dye shirt she got for the hippie theme of her monthly slot tournament (for real, more on that later), and her neo-peacenik mentality generally, means this particular Vegas trip has been right up her alley.
Okay, back to the water to cool off.