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'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas'

17/7/2023

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This statement has many meanings in Las Vegas. Just what does stays in Las Vegas mean? Does anything stay in Las Vegas? Of course the establishment of the town hopes that something of everyone stays in the town and you will want to return. If part of your heart stays in Vegas they will have you forever.

Undoubtedly what the authorities believe this statement to mean is that all money that comes to Las Vegas stays in Las Vegas. Whatever money that crosses the Las Vegas border must be extracted from anyone that has it in their possession and safely transferred into the possession of the gambling companies. The only circumstance where money can leave Las Vegas is in the form of cash inside a well guarded bank van to where it will  be taken to a Bank in California where it wlll be exchanged for a Bankers Certificate. This Bank Document will have a certain value and will be accepted as legal tender by any government or banking authority. But has the benefit of not being able to be traced.

The main objective of Las Vegas is to relieve all visitors of their money. And for all visitors to be happy to be relieved of their cash. Do it with pleasure. Everyone can have a good time.

No matter how rich or poor you are there will be a representative of the gambling industry waiting to take care of you. To guide you on your way. To help you find your own gambling table. Your own slot machine.

Las  Vegas could be called a city of people who are different.

My interest in Las Vegas was imparted to me by an English acquaintance who was obsessed with Las Vegas. He had gone there first in the early 60’s thinking he might get a job at the University of Las Vegas. It was a scam and the university consisted of one room in a back street. The Chancellor was later convicted of mail fraud. But while my friend was there he took a helicopter ride and made a short cine camera film. After I watched it my comment was - Is it that small! ?  "Yes!" he said, "It's really only two blocks."

Las Vegas was portrayed even at that point as being a large city with lots of bright lights and bustling traffic. Many large buildings. In the harsh light of day when the film was taken it seemed to be one street and a loose scattering of buildings surrounded by desert. A distinct absence of traffic. The fabled Sands Hotel was out of town and was indeed surrounded by sand and sand was a problem. Sand was continually getting inside the building. What the patrons made of Noel Coward singing 'Mad Dogs and Englishman go out in the Midday Sun' can only be imagined. But Las Vegas was always good at merging culture with entertainment.

My friend went to Las Vegas every year if he could. He had been married in Las Vegas three times - twice to the same girl. This seemed very un-English to me at the time.

My favourite Las Vegas person is an eccentric middle aged man who lives inside a culvert that is under the highway leading into town. He collects newspapers that have been thrown out of cars and keeps them inside his culvert home. In neat rows. He describes himself as an environmentalist. He is devoting his life to this purpose. He  explains he is making a study of the changes in the environment. He makes some money by collecting bottles and redeeming them at the council tip.

Las Vegas was not always a gambling town. Indeed for a time all gambling was forbidden. One complication was that the city stretched over two separate local government areas. The first casinos appeared only in the second local government area. Las Vegas started as a Railway Station. It was a staging post for the military during the war. Soldiers gambled to waste away the time waiting to be moved. The casinos developed from these humble beginnings.

Las Vegas always had several problems. The government of Nevada considered themselves to be a southern state and had a policy of strict segregation. The city fathers followed the policy with enthusiasm. Any African American who came to the town had to live in a designated area and was not permitted to go downtown, let alone enter any of the gaming houses. However the designated areas for coloured people was in the area that permitted gambling and this was how some casinos started. Eventually gambling was permitted in all of Las Vegas and  THE STRIP was extended to include all of Las Vegas.
 
Segregation sometimes had inconvenient unintended consequences. When the mob bought into hotels they sometimes wanted to hire coloured staff. They thought it was more classy to have a coloured maitre d in a striking uniform standing at the front door welcoming guests to the hotel. They wanted coloured waiters inside their hotels. They wanted coloured maids. This brought them into conflict with the city authorities. Not that they allowed coloured people to stay in their hotels. They didn;t go that far. But they did have coloured entertainers headlining in their large rooms. In the end it was claimed that Frank Sinatra desegregated Las Vegas. Sammy Davis had a severe car accident and the ambulance could not find a hospital that would accept him. Hospitals were segregated. There was no hospital for coloured people in Las Vegas. Frank Sinatra used his influence to change things.

Later on some hotels wanted to hire only Mormons. The hotel owners claimed this as  their civil right. They argued that it was their right to hire any type of ethnic group they wanted. It was a matter of freedom. They should be free to do this. Later on the Civil Rights Act stopped this behaviour to a large extent.

Las Vegas has developed into a large scale entertainment city. It is still however, a city where there is not much evidence of people of colour.

Las Vegas is a continuing civil experiment. It will continue to experiment trying to exact the science of what comes to Vegas stays in Vegas. It will continue to do so. Will the science ever be perfected?

The colour of money  is green. The town is no longer officially segregated. Corruption is no longer evident. Well not flagrantly.  But money can still arrange most things.

It means to stay in Las Vegas.


Neville Gibb
July 2023
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'It happened during the war...'

16/7/2023

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In 2000 Sydney hosted the Olympic Games.  Both my wife and myself were living and working in Sydney at the time.  During the games security was very tight and there were a number of exclusions zones set up to restrict traffic movement in and around the event sites.  The result of this was that both myself and my wife would have double the commute time to work.  After some discussion we decided to apply for extended leave and to plan a trip around the world.  We would be away for a little over six weeks and travel to North America, Canada, England, Ireland, Germany and South Africa.
 
Just two weeks prior to departure I received a phone call from my brother who had just been to visit an Uncle who was in hospital in Melbourne.  Martin McLoughlin, or Uncle Pat as he was known to all, was an Irishman who had served in the Merchant Marine as an engineer during WW2.  After the war he came to Australia and married my father’s sister. They were unable to have children, and myself and my brother spent a lot of time with them during school holidays.
 
The content of the conversation that my brother had with Uncle Pat, was that he revealed we had a cousin living in Canada. It transpired that during the war, Uncle Pat had a relationship with a native Canadian women and this liaison had resulted in a son.  I was somewhat flabbergasted as I had never heard of this cousin, despite the fact that Uncle Pat had financially supported him for most of his life.  I received contact details and made some initial phone calls to advise details of our plans whilst in Vancouver.   Our initial advice was that the son, also called Martin Mc Loughlin, was a Professor of Urology at University of British Columbia and was in fact a celebrity in Canada.  He was often promoted as an example of how native Indians could succeed in the world. 
 
In Vancouver we made arrangements to meet for dinner. Upon arrival we introduced ourselves and went to bar for a pre-dinner drink.   I was absolutely astounded by Martin’s actions and speech.  Bearing in mind that he had never met his father, his gestures, certain speech and his mannerisms, were exactly like his father. We sat down for dinner and shortly after Martin left the table to go to the toilet. I explained to his wife that the meeting was freaking me out as Martin was so much like his father in many ways. The next day we said our goodbye’s as we were off on the Rocky Mountaineer train trip.
 
Sometime after our return to Australia, Uncle Pat’s grandson came to Australia to visit him. This was without my brother’s, or my knowledge, and the meeting did not go well, despite us requesting that one of us be present at the meeting.  The grandson left Australia without contacting my brother or myself.  In an ironical twist Uncle Pat died of the disease that his son specialised in.

 
Barry O’Connor


This story was originally submitted by Barry the first time the topic was offered in August 2016 and can be found in his story collection under the title 'It happened on tour'. 
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'It happened in Scotland'

16/7/2023

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My wife and I hired a car and drove around England and Scotland.

We started in Yorkshire England. We did the TV tours of James Herriot and the Yorkshire Dales. Then the Heartbeat tour of PC Nick Rowan, the English Bobby who moved to a small village station near the Yorkshire Moors.

We are now heading north into Scotland. We reached Edinburgh and obviously went to Edinburgh Castle. We went onto the Castle carpark area where they hold the Edinburgh Tattoo each year. It was pouring rain; it was cold, and we didn’t stay very long. We moved down the road to a Coffee shop and whilst we drank our coffee, we wrote a few postcards to send back to Australia. We spent the night in a B & B in Edinburgh. Then the next morning we headed north along the East coast road to Aberdeen then across country towards Inverness.
 
The plan was to arrive in Inverness at a reasonable hour and spend the night there.

We had a busy day travelling and sightseeing. It was getting dark, and we still had quite a way to go before we would reach Inverness. I said to my wife, “we need to look out for a B & B, we are not going to make it to Inverness at a reasonable hour to get accommodation tonight”.

Not long after that we saw a B & B sign in the middle of nowhere, a farmhouse on the side of the road. We did a quick U-turn and went into the farm’s driveway. We were barely out of the car when a little elderly lady came running towards us. “Quick, Quick,” she was saying in her very Scottish accent. “Over here, in the barn”. We thought straight away, there was something wrong, some sort of emergency. So we rushed over to the barn and followed the lady in. There were two men inside, standing next to a small cow but bigger than a calf.  On the ground was a small heap of something. All sorts of things raced through our heads. What is that?, we thought.

The men were talking to each other in very Scottish accents. “It’s too small” one said, “I have never seen one so small”. “How did it happen, it’s impossible” the other man said. “I have been a vet for a long time, and I’ve never seen anything like it”.  Then the lady spoke, “Will it survive?” she asked. “Doubt it, too small” the apparent vet said. We got closer, nobody spoke to us. The small bundle was still in a heap on the ground. “What is it?” I asked. “A calf” the lady said. Then went on to repeat what the men had been talking about, explaining how the mother cow was so small and so young but had somehow become pregnant and had just had this bundle on the ground. Her calf.

“It's a miracle if it survives”, they were all saying.  I had seen newborn calves before, but this was small like a lamb, not a calf.

We went inside, had a meal, then went to bed.

The next morning we went into the kitchen. The lady saw us and said “Come on” she said. “It’s survived”. We went out to the barn. The two men were still standing near the cow, the calf was sucking away on the mother. The men had been there all night. A lot happier and chirpier than last night when we arrived. We finally got to talk with them. They were so excited, proud and surprised. It was History and a miracle to them.

The miracle occurred and History was made. We finally got to our destination in Inverness. We sat down for a meal and watched the Six O’clock news. There on the news right in front of us were two small men, a small elderly lady and a small cow with the smallest calf ever born in Scotland.


Phil Hughes
July 2023
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'What happens at the AGP stays at the AGP'

16/7/2023

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​When I attended my first Grand Prix in Adelaide in 1985, of the 23 scrutineers from Australia to work at this event, I was the only female scrutineer to be selected.   We stayed in a caravan park for the GP weekend, sharing caravans and ensuites.
 
We had a wonderful time being part of our first Grand Prix as well as walking around Adelaide after the event closed for the day.     As is often the case when away from home, there was a lot of chiacking and laughing, lots of fun and memories made.
 
Moving onto the annual Scrutineers Christmas function that year, where all members of the families were in attendance, I worked my way around the group as I had not seen some of the families for a time, not only mixing with my fellow scrutineers but their wives, girlfriends, and children, and of course the new babies, as well.
 
I noticed that when I was on my own and speaking with the wives of fellow AGP mates, suddenly the respective husband would appear and join in the conversations that we were having.
 
This had never happened at previous functions, as I got on well with the families, enjoyed meeting with them and was well accepted by the wives and girlfriends.     The sudden appearance of the scrutineer husband happened several times and I was getting concerned that I had done something to upset the guys.
 
Then the penny dropped!    When we were in Adelaide and we were walking around, guys being guys would make comments regarding any good-looking female that passed by etc.    In those days some of the comments were a little risqué, but it was all in good fun.    I enjoyed their banter but was very careful not to make any comment myself as I learnt very early in my scrutineering days that it was OK for the men to comment, but not for me.   (I made a comment about a well-known blonde female at a major race event saying that she was nicely dressed and looked good, but it was a pity that she didn’t visit the hairdresser during the week and get the dark roots of her hair done – this did not go down well with the guys and I had a quick lesson in when to keep my opinions to myself!!!)
 
Back to the Christmas function.   Once I realised what was going on, one by one I made my way around all the AGP guys and quietly said to them that I hope they understood what happened in Adelaide stayed in Adelaide, not only at the track and our outings at night, but also at the after-event dinner dance which we all attended until well into the early morning following the Grand Prix.    I felt the mood changed with the guys and I was able to enjoy the Scrutineers Christmas function as I am sure the guys were now able to do.
 
I was always treated well by the guys, and they had no concerns with me going to the AGP or other events that we attended.
 
Heather Wallace
July 2023
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'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas'...

1/7/2023

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Here I am at 75 years of age reflecting on  ‘What happened in Vegas’ moments.  I’ve definitely had them – I’ve danced on Spanish bars; broken plates while dancing at a taverna in Greece; visited red light districts in Kings Cross, Amsterdam and Thailand; had Mama Mia experiences in the Greek Islands, Bridget Jones experiences in London and more.
    
Interestingly, I now find myself squirming at the thought of sharing such Vegas moments!

I’m reminded of my mother at about my age, making ‘tut, tutting’sounds and saying ‘that isn’t necessary’ as gradually more explicit sex scenes began to be shown on television.  I remember her changing the channel during a fairly discreetly directed sex scene central to a little boy’s dawning realization that he was being used as a go between in the film 'The Go Between', saying loudly ‘Now that’s quite unnecessary’!    I suspect that she found herself feeling rather squirmy at the time,

‘What happened in Vegas’ moments appear to incorporate risk taking at the time and  ‘squirming’ linked to guilt and shame in latter years! 

This is certainly happening on rememberingt two ‘What happened in Vegas’ moments in which I went a tourist to ‘strip’ shows, once at Kings Cross when I was twenty, the other in the red light district of Bangkok during my late twenties.

In the first case, I’d been attending the Economics and Commerce Students Association conference in Sydney in the late 1960’s.  My brother was there, as a representative of RMIT’s Commerce Students’ Association, while I was there as a student of the Economics Faculty at Monash University.  After the conference dinner my brother and his friends decided to go to Kings Cross with the aim of seeing the infamous stripper of the day, Sandra Nelson.  I tagged along,.. chaperoned by my brother!   My main memory of the event was watching the reactions of the men in the audience when a tassle attached to one of Sandra's swirling breasts became dislodged and flew off into the audience.

The second event occurred in 1976 when I was visiting young married friends who were attached to the Australian embassy in Bangkok.   After a dinner party we decided to go to the red light district, visiting three or four bars, including “The Golfers’ Lounge”.  I'm definitely feeling squirmy at the thought of sharing the antics observed on stage with you - so I won't! 
  
As I squirm,  like my mother in her seventies watching 'The Go Between',, I’m  thinking sharing these ‘What happened in Vegas’ moments is probably “quite unnecessary'!
​
 
Bev Lee
September  2016
edited July 2023
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    'It happened in Vegas' / What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas' 

    ‘It happened in Vegas’/‘What happened in Vegas, stays in Vegas’

    Spill the beans on something from one of your holidays, something that just doesn’t happen in everyday life.  Ideas that could help to get you moving – look at photo albums, emails, letters, even Facebook – get yourself reminders of holidays and the events that happened on them, then describe one of those holiday moments in detail.

    Here's a link to a delightful story submitted by Jenny McKenna when we last offered this topic way back in 2016 - 
    'What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas', Jenny McKenna, September 2016.

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