A list of important lessons learned in Las Vegas:
1. The word “Riviera” implies class. The implication is wrong.
2. The only thing funnier than having an academic conference in which a great many people do some kind of gender studies in a hotel whose logo is a line of women wearing nothing but g-strings, is seeing all of those academics in their nice clothes sitting out by the pool because it’s the only place for miles that doesn’t reek of smoke.
3. During a fire alarm at 2:30 in the morning, one can get up, go to the bathroom, put some clothes on, gather one’s money and room key, walk down three flights of stairs and outside in a calm manner, learn that the alarm was false, and get back upstairs to go back to bed while one’s across-the-hall neighbor is still running up and down the hall in her nightgown screaming about death.
4. On a Sunday, there is no such thing as “too early” to get to the airport. My flight left at 9:25. I got to the airport at 6:45. Because some jackass breached security right before that, they had pulled everyone off of all of the planes and ran them back through the metal detectors ahead of us.