Wel­come to Hard Rock — © Copy­right 2012 by William Beem

Wel­come to Hard Rock

Around this time of year, I start think­ing about plan­ning my Christ­mas vaca­tion. More than a few of them have been in Las Vegas, right here at the Hard Rock Hotel. When I walk inside and hear some­one say “Wel­come to Hard Rock”, I know I’m right where I belong. It’s like a home away from home for me.

This shot is one of those things that leaves me with mixed feel­ings. It’s just a snap­shot that I took with my Nikon Colpix P7000 cam­era, which is not exactly the sharpest cam­era & lens in the world. On the other hand, it’s a path that leads to some­thing near and dear to my heart — the Cen­ter Bar. Just a nice, round bar with a domed ceil­ing. Part of the rea­son I like it is because of the way domed ceil­ings carry sounds. You can hear the con­ver­sa­tion on the oppo­site side of the bar bet­ter than the per­son next to you. It brings out my inner sense of espi­onage from the old days. Spy­ing doesn’t have to be dan­ger­ous — just clever.

The con­ver­sa­tions I’ve over­heard in this bar are more amus­ing than any other bar in the world. Maybe it’s because the sound qual­ity is so great, even when it gets very noisy at night. The Hard Rock attracts peo­ple of all walks, but my favorite types are mostly the douchebags who like to yell “Vegas, baby!” or “What hap­pens in Vegas.…” all the time. Peo­ple who are excited about clichés are simul­ta­ne­ously annoy­ing and enter­tain­ing, par­tic­u­larly when they’re try­ing to pick up a girl and then dis­cover she’s a hooker. One minute the guy thinks he’s the hottest thing in the world and the next you hear this sound of utter defla­tion. Wel­come to Hard Rock.

It’s not like I don’t enjoy other resorts in Las Vegas; I do. In fact, there are a lot of things going against Hard Rock for most peo­ple. It’s off the Strip. It lost some of it’s orig­i­nal soul when they added on a new tower and replaced The Joint with a new con­cert hall. Yet, my favorite break­fast in Las Vegas is at Mr. Lucky’s. The staff is always friendly to me. The music is great. The beds are com­fort­able. The peo­ple are crazy in a mild sort of way. It’s the kind of place where I found some guy passed out by the ele­va­tor in just his black under­wear and socks. It’s a place where you can find your­self in an inter­est­ing con­ver­sa­tion with peo­ple from all walks of life.

For most of you, these aren’t your typ­i­cal Christ­mas hol­i­day expe­ri­ences. When you travel alone, you take your con­ver­sa­tions where you find them and make the most of the expe­ri­ence. This place is more of a melt­ing pot than New York City. Wel­come to Hard Rock.