Stan and I were waiting in the 17 degree biting cold at the Denver airport wrapped in thin jackets and doubled up sweaters. We had just returned from a three day trip to a polka fest in Las Vegas. We enjoyed sitting on the benches in front of the hotel soaking up the sun in 70 degree weather watching the palms trees that lined the
driveway sway in the gentle breeze.
We still have melodies rattling in our heads for the hours spent listening and dancing to the five different bands playing non-stop from one in the afternoon to eleven at night.
The music was phenomenal. There were two bands from California; Sam Blout and Del Fazio. What a following the Del Fazio band had. There was a table or two of people, more like groupies, who adored this band. They wore similar clothes; one day black, one day those cute crinkly blouses of all colors and the next, red for Valentines day, of course. They clapped cheered and filled the dance floor. The music style was peppy and carried a great variety of “easy to dance to” polkas that brought a smile to your face and a click to your heels. There were plenty of waltzes and two steps (fox trot) with a few dragging love songs thrown in just to slow you down a bit.
Polka lovers talk about the great bands from “back east”. The other ballroom headlined Julie Lee from Fargo North Dakota who switched off every couple of hours with Del Sinchak from Ohio and Rhythm Players from Wisconsin. Julie Lee always brings the crowd to their feet to fill up the huge dance floor. Our new favorite is the Del Sinchak band. They have an accordion player, Ron “Austi” Austalosh, that is second to none. We got a tip from one of the folks we met to stand off to the side of the stage and watch him for a while. We did and noticed with delight the magic that came through his fingers as they rapidly dance along the keyboard of his accordion. He didn’t have the lead of the songs, but carried the notes in just the right combinations that complimented each tune. It was effortless for him.
The last day we wondered back and forth between the ball rooms looking for just the right music for our last day. We sat down in the front row lining the stage to the most inspiring sound. The dance floor was empty as people listened to the sounds of a singer on stage. His name was Johnnie and he was just traveling through Vegas on his way to Italy. He sang "Time to Say Goobye," which we had heard many times before from CDs and TV shows featuring Boniceli. The room filled with sound as he hit the high notes in perfect pitch. He treated us to a few more beautiful songs that touched your heart. He had such astounding tone and talent.
The polka festival was at The Orleans which is a mini-mega hotel away from the strip. It sits like an large ocean liner out to sea a few miles or so from the rest of the Vegas magic. The Orleans is huge to my estimation. We were on the 14th floor and had a long walk down one of many corridors just to get to our room. I told Stan he should have brought his dog Jack as it seemed like about a mile and he could have exercised his dog at the same time. The rooms were large and charming in decorated in that French Quarter look with a sofa and side chair at the end of the room over looking the spectacular view of the mountains skirting the west side of Vegas. These aren’t Colorado mountains, but spectacular in contrast to the desert with the different shades of strata and peaks that looked to have some trees dotting the slopes.
The casino sounds and sights of flashing lights are deafening and visually impacting. As you walk into the Casino you are struck by the multitude of machines tingling and clanking. Overhead someone is singing a non-descript tune, sure it is probablly top on the charts, but really it's pathetic. There are slots for pennies, nickels, quarters and dollars. There are lots of game options through these machines for poker, wheel of fortune and this thing and that. It is sensory overload at its peak. No one uses coins any more. Its all dollars or I should say twenty dollars bills in the bill accepter. Better yet, just slip in your credit card and you are set to go.
While we were eating lunch one day I watched one younger women sitting lifelessly at one of these $1 machines. Every few seconds she clicked the button. Sometimes she watched the results, sometimes she didn’t. This went on hypnotically for about half an hour. For every minute at 10 seconds per click that is about $6 per minute or $180 in a half an hour. That doesn’t count doubling up on multiple bets per click. You could easily go through your house payment in no time. With the machine spitting out constant information about your scores, wins andlosses, you are completely divorced from the actual cash it is costing you to sit there and play.
Another woman, who looked to be a full-time gambler, had evidently won enough that the attendant had to pay her off instead of the normal credit vouchers that the machine spits out. As she waited for the attendant to tally her scores she sat in the row of slots across from the winner, slipped in another bill, probably a twenty, and clicked away, her back turned facing the attendant, without even watching the spins and wins.
I guess you can tell that I’m not much of a gambler, although being around it every day with mandatory walks through the casino floor to find restaurants in this self-contained facility is enticing. I went out for a paper across the street at a gas station each morning. There were people still playing the slots, card games with deals and bellied up to the bar for a few at 6 am. It’s a different life for sure.
On Valentines Day think I was almost accosted on my way to find a newspape. You could just see the sun peeking over the gigantic hotel sign toward the east. A man in his 30’s in a white Honda type vehicle pulled up to the curb. His windows were rolled down. I’m just walking along minding my business when he said, “Excuse me,” as if to ask for directions. Then he surprised me with, “Happy Valentines. Do you want a lift? It’s cold this morning.” I held my jacket tightly together. I had on a pair of jeans and a big baggy coat. My sandy long gray hair from the back must have looked OK when he drove up behind me. I wonder what he thought when I turned around with my almost 62 year old wrinkled face and told him. “No thanks.” He drove off to troll some other buildings.
More dancing for the day. Watching the people is almost as much fun as getting up to dance. There were lots of very good and really great dancers that took command of the floor. We spotted one couple who whirled and circled the crowd like stealth fighter planes seeking a target. One time between tunes we introduced ourselves. Pottsy from Ohio and Nancy from Pennsylvania were a couple to watch and enjoy. We heard from some other folks that Pottsy is known as the dancing champ.
Toward the end of the day replete with dancing, talking and eating I decided that it is really about the footwork. There were so many cool moves and grand strides that my eyes could hardly keep up as people darted between each other. Shoes of all types swirled around the floor. Our feet pretty much gave out by the end of the third day. We put on our tennis shoes and socks to give them a rest. We sat down to just listen to the music. Before long Stan was tapping his leg up and down like a race horse ready for the ride. We tried it once around the floor. Tennis shoes really stick compared to the smooth leather soles. Before long I was dancing in my socking feet. That’s a real smooth way to top the day.
It was great fun with people from all over the country with about 60 people from Colorado. It was good to see them and have a chance to share the experience.
If you are interested in some great polkas and waltzes here are the web sites for CDs of Del Sinchak Band – www.peppermintrecords.com 333 783 2222 and Julie Lee www.whiteroseband.com 701 298 9422.
Southwest Polka Party - Sponsored by E & L Entertainment, Inc. Ed and Lois Halvorson 480 218 7009 www.southwestpolka.com
