Caesar’s Palace. When I stayed here a few times on business, attending the Consumer Electronics show (allegedly the world’s largest exhibition, which happily runs concurrently with the more provocative Adult Entertainment show), I would get up early to go running so I’d be pumped enough to face the enormous crowds. (This is what the hotel looked like during an earlier, non-business trip to Fun City.) I’d run down The Strip toward the Tropicana, passing lots of people still up from the night before. (One rather buzzed young man, emerging from the Hard Rock Casino, saw me approaching in my gear and sang, “He’s a maniac, maniac, etc.” -- his a cappella tribute to both a pre-dawn runner and Flashdance.) Left on Tropicana and out towards the airport, passing other early-morning people, most of them on their way to their service jobs in the casinos. At the airport, I’d turn around and head back, up and down stairs at the MGM Grand, past the Paris, arriving back at the new ancient Roman monstrosity just as the sun was beginning to warm up the town, readying it for the awakening onslaught. Total: five miles.
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