It’s 11 PM. Day 3 of this 4-day show has been over for a while now. Desperate for an internet fix, I have set myself up in the lobby of the hotel with my wireless interface, and I’m able to kick back, relax, and write comfortably at last. I feel a bit like SimonG, though.

What an odd trip it’s been. I arrived out here last Thursday night, and for the first couple of days things went well … the booth, chock full of high-tech digital audio gadgetry tied together with little threads of glass with light in them, came together and worked almost perfectly. The setup days were fairly stress-free, and the evenings were relaxing. One night we paid a visit to the Hofbrauhaus, in order to consume proper amounts of sausage and good German bier. Another evening we descended on a sushi restaurant and ate all their fish.

The hotel we’re at is not really a hotel. It’s called the Summer Bay Resort, but it’s not really that either, since it’s open year-round, is located in a desert at least 500 miles from the nearest bay, and consists of an old, low-rent apartment complex that has been renovated and operated as timeshares and hotel suites. With that said, it’s really quite comfortable, and I’ve rested well there. All I really need on a trip like this is a place to sleep anyway.

The weather here has been beautiful, as it usually is in the desert. Clear breezy days and cool nights are the norm, nice weather for a bit of walking about.

The convention itself defies description. The Las Vegas Convention Center has over three million square feet of convention space in four huge halls. The NAB show fills all of it. News vehicles, production trucks, and even helicopters are parked all over the show. The scale of this is unimaginable unless you’ve actually seen it. Nothing compares. Our little 30 by 30 foot space, actually large by comparison with some booths, seems miniscule. SONY corporation’s booth is approximately 12 times that area.

Las Vegas itself boggles the mind. Nowhere else in the country is it possible to see such ostentations displays of opulence. The hotels and attractions on the famed “strip” have even managed, without spending a single taxpayer dollar, to build a quite functional monorail transit system that connects them. It’s actually faster to get from our hotel to the convention on that system than it is to drive our rental van there.

Amazingly, in this city of light and spectacle, I can still manage to be lonely. I find it really hard to understand my own feelings sometimes. This is my fourth consecutive year at NAB with this particular company, and I distinctly remember the previous trips being much more of an adventure. I suppose that the situation, at least for a couple of those trips, was such that I was happy for a reason to be away from home for a while. Now that things have changed in my life, and I’m alone except for my cats and my birds, I’m not as happy to be traveling. Tony’s ill, and I hate that I’m not home to pamper him and pay him the attention he deserves. I’ve finally become comfortable — dare I even say happy? — in my apartment, and now I’m away from that comfort zone. Just as I’d gotten used to cooking for myself and eating smarter, I’m eating out every night again.

I don’t want to become one of those odd hermits who becomes so isolated that his pets are his only companions. I am becoming increasingly aware that I really have no life, and I’ve got to somehow do something about that. Las Vegas is, of course, full of temptations — it’s not called Sin City just because of the gambling — but that would only treat the symptoms and leave the problem intact. I can look, though. There are some phenomenally beautiful women here, and my fertile imagination has given birth to lots of indecent thoughts. I’m male, I’ve been deprived for months, and I’m human. I make no apologies.

I called again today to check on Tony and am told he’s eating, drinking, and getting lots of rest, and doesn’t seem too unhappy. I still hate thinking about him cooped up in that cage, and I can’t wait until I pick him up on Saturday morning. Nicholas reports that the birds are fine and so is BB, although BB did manage to knock over Sammy the Macaw’s play-stand. No damage done.

Barry Manilow is now performing six nights a week at the Las Vegas Hilton. David Brenner’s next door at the Stardust. The other night, Bob Newhart actually did a show at the Riviera. Vegas has gone geriatric, but I suppose worse things could happen. So far, no Britney.

I took all the precautions I could think of after three previous NAB experiences. I’m wearing soft leather shoes that are well broken-in, they’ve got gel insoles in them to further support my feet, and we laid 1/2″ padding under the booth carpet. Today, as is typical on the third day, my feet started to fall apart. It’s getting really painful to stand still now, so I’m doing the one-foot thing quite a bit, alternating my weight from one side to the other, trying to walk around as much as possible to keep the circulation going. There’s got to be a better way. Next year, I may try sandals.

Sorry for the stream-of-consciousness nature of this blog. I’m still a bit wound-up from the day, and thoughts keep bouncing around in my mind like popcorn in a kettle. It’s all I can do to intercept one or two of them as they fly by, and write them down.

I went to a reception tonight for Amateur Radio Operators (HAMS) sponsored by the NAB. I expected to see perhaps a hundred people, and instead found over seven hundred! I had no idea so many broadcasters were also hams. The reception was sponsored by Heil Sound, a microphone manufacturer founded a couple of decades ago by Bob Heil. Bob’s known for supplying mics and FOH engineering services for Joe Walsh, and he’s recently introduced a new line of broadcast microphones. Tonight’s door prizes were two such mics, signed by Joe Walsh. Unfortunately, I didn’t win one of them.

It’s getting a bit late now, so I think I’ll head off to my room and get a bit of rest. Tomorrow will be a long day. The show closes at 4 PM, at which point we begin breaking down the booth. Everything must be packed and crated that night, which is sometimes a challenge as we often wait hours for our empty crates to be brought in from storage. My flight leaves Las Vegas at 4PM on Friday, and I’ll get back to Atlanta at around 11 PM.

Best regards to everyone, and thanks for all your kind encouragement. Good night!