Rosh Hashanah, Year 5770

I'm sitting here in the synagogue in Henderson, Nevada, typing away on a borrowed computer. It will be Rosh Hashanah in a few hours.

In trying to figure out what Rosh Hashanah means to me, I've spent the last week wondering, sometimes aloud, on that very topic, all the way carrying on all the daily tasks one does. It's 95 degrees out. What do people here do about the heat? Why aren't there more people out and about in this neighborhood? Is it simply the heat, or is it because many of those people lost their homes and are no longer IN the neighborhood?

And then I heard about one congregant, whose name I don't know and will never know, who has had a frightfully bad time of it. Her husband died several years ago, and she not only misses him but the life they used to have, when they had money. He ran his own business, apparently well, but after he died, she leaned upon some friends of his who gave her their bad financial advice. As a consequence, she has lost her home, her car, her way of life. Friends wonder if she's thin because she's getting older - she's in her late sixties. Or because she can't afford the food.

There are many more stories like that. You know the stories. Some of them involve friends of yours, relatives of yours. The last two years have been financially devastating. I don't have to tell you that such a bad economy preys upon the elderly moreso than the young. The young have time to recover, resources to plumb. The elderly rarely do unless they've socked a lot away.

But I don't have to go all that far afield from my (extended) family for some hard-luck stories. I have a relative who is struggling not to lose his house. I have another relative who is living with a friend, thank goodness, but is just several inches away from homelessness. I have a young relative who is lost and separated from us, and doesn't know what to do. I have two close friends, probably more, who are struggling with day-to-day depression, some on medication and under doctor's care for that malady. I have a relative with an illness he was born with, one that every day denies him a normal existence.

So what does Rosh Hashanah mean in regard to this rather depressing topic. I think it means that we need to find our own meaning to life. What does life mean to us. I don't expect God to help that first woman I referenced, just dump a barrel-full of money at her feet. I expect humans to wade in there and give her a helping hand. If they can't themselves, perhaps they know of some social organization who can.

And the inevitable conclusion is that I need to wade in more and help my relatives, first and foremost, to deal with the lousy cards they've been dealt. And then, if I have anything left, I can help those people, like that aging congregant who lost everything.

I think the only meaning I'll get out of my remaining decade (or possibly two) will ooze out of the relationships I form. And the care I give to them.

L'shanah tovah. A good year.

Slot Heaven

I've been spending a small section of each day at my new "home," Sunset Station casino/hotel. We briefly went to another Station casino last night, Boulder Station, and my God, I hated it. There were too many people, the aisle ways were narrow, and they didn't have the games I liked. (And the ones I liked were taken.)

But they did have a bank of my new discovery: community gambling with Reel 'Em In.

Anyone who knows about my gambling habits knows that I love Reel 'Em In. I discovered this fishing slot game at least 25 years when the old Frontier hotel/casino was still around. It was a nickel slot machine in those days, and I would play multiple lines at tremendous cost, but then win quite often. I was enchanted.

And then the cascading slot machines came along, just recently. My favorite is Invaders from the Planet Moolah, which allows you multiple chances for one pull, and a chance to get to their bonus round (which is actually the same thing, just over and over). But now there's another enchanting slot machine pulling at me.

"Community gaming" is what they call it. It's based on Reel 'Em In, at least that's the bonus round, but (unfortunately) the four single machines underneath the massive video screen are other games. They're horrible, but what are you gonna do. But the bonus round, which shows up almost randomly, is one of three games, and you compete with the other 3 during those games. The games are Best Fish (the biggest), most fish (the most and the biggest), and the Boat Race (who comes in first, towed by their fish). You don't know when the bonus round is going to hit, and the timer on your individual screen tells you how many seconds you have to play. If you don't make it, you won't be eligible for the bonus round. You can't even sneeze in case you'll miss it.

So the adrenaline is pumping the entire time. And each pull on the individual machine is 50 cents at least, so even though it's a penny machine it's expensive. I've seen many people lose all their money just waiting for the bonus round. So it's one to be approached carefully.

The Station Casino has one of these. Three Invasion of the Planet Moolah. And two Reel 'Em In. Almost heaven.

Selichot

We both attended Selichot, and, I swear, I don't remember ever having attended this before. We had our choice of four teachers for an hour: Rabbi Achselrad, Rabbi Adar, Rabbi Chester (visiting his family in Las Vegas), and an educator. I decided to sit with Rabbi Chester because I wasn't sure anyone else would and I didn't want him to think that he had wasted his time by coming. I needn't have worried.

While I was standing around, waiting for something, anything to begin, a couple of women recognized me and said hi, and asked me which one I was going to attend. I explained, and one of them, oh, we should do that, too! Rabbi Adar would want us to. But the other one said, but I adore Rabbi Adar. Can't I go to hers? The other told her no. It was very funny. And, yes, we found ourselves with about 12 others huddled around Rabbi Chester in a very small room in the synagogue. We had a rousing discussion of the Book of Life and whether we're really inscribed.

Afterwards we gathered in the sanctuary for the Selichot service. I noticed that only about one-half stayed for the service. Rabbi Chester noticed me sitting all alone way off to the side -- I never know where to sit in the large room, mainly because there are designated seats, the comfortable ones, for donors. So he joined me.

It was interesting to watch him. The Selichot service pamphlet was composed by their student rabbi of a couple of years ago. He perused the entire thing during the opening remarks and songs of the service, just like a professional.

One thing about Ner Tamid: a lot of the arrangements of the songs don't encourage participation. What I mean by that is, they have a choir who sings, and most of the congregants just listen. This did not stop Rabbi Chester from singing along. He sang every one of the songs. I took encouragement from this, and I started singing along, too, at least to the songs I knew. The songs of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are the most beautiful and stirring, and I just love them. I got a little taste, and then the short service was over.

While we had been waiting for the service to start, a congregant named Julie, with whom I had had several conversations, brought one of her standard poodles with her, Simon. Simon had just come from the beauty shop. He's in training for being a caregiver dog, and was just gorgeous. I don't think he showed up in the photos because of his immense blackness. He was very well behaved. And since he attneded services, too, I was glad to see that he also did not choose to sing along with the choir.

Road Trip to a Very Familiar Place

It took us two leisurely days to get to Henderson, Nevada. Sweetie is the Visiting Rabbis during the High Holy Days, and we'll be here for three weeks (with a break in between to return home).

Our one-night stop was picked because Sweetie thought I might like to experience a casino/hotel just inside the Nevada state line, and she was right. So we pulled into Primm's Whiskey Pete hotel and casino, only to discover that it was the wrong Primm hotel. The one we made a reservation at was across the highway. But we were tired, and so the desk clerk quickly cancelled the original reservation and offered us a double room at ..... $15 a night. Oh, yeah.

The little cafe in the small casino had so-so food, but offered this so-so food 24 hours. And so we found ourselves eating dinner at about 9pm. There was one waiter at that point, and I unfortunately didn't catch his name, but he was very good. (The waiter the next morning was overwhelmed and her inherent talent wasn't up to the task at all.) So at that point, about 3 hours after arriving, Sweetie took a break from writing, and I took a break from gambling, and we shared a meal. Then we returned to our respective tasks.

We left at about noon the next day, pulled into Ner Tamid synagogue parking lot at about 1:30pm and got the keys to the company car as well as the private house at which we'd be staying.

The house used to be the home of an elderly congregant. She has since passed away and the owners, also members of the congregation, can't sell the place in this economy. So they very nicely lent it to Sweetie during the High Holidays so the congregation wouldn't have to pay the motel she usually stays in.

The house is very nice: a two-bedroom with a walk-in shower and a gigantic living room. There are a few things, however, which make it less than ideal -- a broken dishwasher, a washer that appears to have issues so that we can't use it, no internet, and no TV reception (because, after all, why would you continue with the last two if no one lives there?). But there's electricity - Thank God for air conditioning - and working water.

Every day Sweetie gets up early so that she can get some work done before going to the synagogue. Every day I get up not knowing what her schedule is, and drive over to the nearby Sunset Station casino because it's close. If she's free for lunch, I'd like to join her. But she never knows when that will be. Somedays it's 1:30pm. Other days, like yesterday, it's 5pm. I would like to drive off and discover some of the other casinos in the area, particularly the ones mentioned in my Las Vegas Advisor coupon book, but I'm not sure when that will happen.

More Musings about the Star Trek Convention

Here are some comments about the Star Trek Convention:

There doesn't seem to be a future for the Star Trek: Experience. We went by Neonopolis, and while there was a building, there was absolutely no activity or construction.

Stephen Collins (Seventh Heaven, Tales of the Gold Monkey, Star Trek: The Motion Picture): "I did see a Klingon at a slot machine last night." No kidding. They were all over the place, particularly on Thursday when Martok and Gowron were in full regalia. Stephen has joined the twitter world: bassisland. I think I'll follow him. I just hope he doesn't talk too much about fish.

I was really impressed with "young Spock," a 10-year-old actor named Jakob Kogan. I think I'll watch his movie from 2008, "Joshua."

Leonard and Bill were quite funny on stage together. They really are good together, and you get the feeling they are close friends. I was quite taken with emotion, though, when Leonard said he was worried about losing his memory. I have a feeling it's why he "retired" a few years ago, only to be offered more and more parts. He was on his way to Vancouver to do "Fringe" a few months ago, and they got him his lines while he was in the airport. The airline printed it out for him. He was sweating that he wouldn't be able to get the mouthful of speech he had to make. How interesting. How heartwarming and understandable.

Christopher Lloyd was terrific on stage. I really enjoyed the story he told about how Eric Stolz lost his part in Back to the Future to Michael J. Fox. I had always wondered what happened. And hearing Lloyd's take on why was the interesting part.

Can't a Klingon Get a Buffet Around Here?

The three Klingons strolled quietly into the Las Vegas Hilton buffet line, each grabbing a plate as they went. We didn't pay any attention, but several tables full of people stopped to stare, laughing and pointing. It's new to them, but not to us. We've been watching Klingons try to get something to eat for years.

When Debbie and I decided to go to the big Creation convention at the Hilton in August, we knew there would be changes. For instance, we said goodbye to the Star Trek: Experience last August, and knew we would miss it. There is nothing to replace it, despite Creation's efforts to move some of their events to the nearby Stratosphere hotel and include their roller coaster rides in the gold ticket. But we were more interested in living in the land of Star Trek one more time. And we wanted to take note of the changes. Some things were the same, and some things were definitely different.

Thursday started out pretty much normally. In 107-degree heat, we made our way on the monorail to hear those on the stage, and to attend the Klingon lunch. For the first time, Creation had two of the actors -- J.G. Hertzler and Robert O'Reilly -- dress in makeup and costume to assume their Klingon identities, "Martok" and "Gowron," respectively, each of whom had been Chancellor of the Klingon Empire in Deep Space Nine. In truth, neither one looked like the roles they played, as Michael Westmore certainly wasn't applying their makeup, but they indeed look like menacing Klingons. J.G. and Bob good-naturedly visited with each table and made disparaging comments about our "live" food, and then the rest of the actors came in: Tony Todd, Spice Williams-Crosby, William Morgan Sheppard, Michael Dorn and Suzie Plakson.

I was shocked at Michael Dorn's appearance. Yes, he's bald now, but even more than that, he's many pounds lighter, and almost appears frail. He noted when he sat down at our table during lunch: "All the things I can't eat," pointing to the pizza and pasta. He told us that he became a vegetarian three years ago. More importantly, he related that he's writing now -- he has something on YouTube that he hopes to expand -- and that he wants to go back to directing.

I had attended Borg Bingo last year, but found that resistance to bingo was not futile when I discovered that the ticket was a whopping $169. So we skipped that event and every other breakfast and luncheon. The prices have just about doubled.

It was great seeing a lot of the Trekkies wandering around -- JoBeth, Freddie, all of the A and B row people that have been coming for years. I heard from someone who attended the parties that the parties are getting to be a bit late for those of us who have been around a bit. We're getting older, and we can't stay up that late! Some of the parties, I noted, didn't even start until midnight, and at another hotel, which means travel time.

But while we're on the subject of age, we were entirely shocked on the weekend. We entered the convention area and were astounded by the long lines to get in. In fact, Creation had so much walk-up traffic on Sunday that they had to delay Zachary Quinto's appearance on stage. And these folks were dramatically younger. And in general admission for the most part. The place was absolutely packed, the first time I have ever seen that at the Las Vegas convention. Is it the new movie? Yes, I think so. Many of these folks said, also, that they're watching the TV series -- classic, Next Gen, Voyager, Enterprise -- for the first time just because of the new movie. My God, this franchise might actually survive! And with a whole new fanbase.

I liked what Christopher Lloyd said to us as he greeted us conventioners for the first time: Perseverance is the key to acting. It's also the key to being a fan for more than 40 years. We have faith the ideals of Star Trek will survive. It also helps to have a kick-ass movie bring in more like us.

Hail to Rickey!

I went to the Coliseum today, 3 hours before the game, to get there to say farewell to Rickey Henderson. I think he's finally realized that he has to retire. After all, he joined the Hall of Fame of Baseball last week. It would be rude to try to play again.

He mentioned the word "humble" a couple of time, but gave us a passing Rickey-ism, a poem that wasn't a poem, but one that mentioned himself in the third person a few times. That is absolute Rickey.

One wishes one could distill his greatness, use it in the present-day A's team. They could use his spark. His will to succeed. His overwhelming confidence.