I’ve had a lot of revelry in the past couple decades. Probably more than my fair share of debaucherous nights full of wine and whiskey. A lot of it gets chalked up to work events, which somewhat diminishes the enjoyment. These events demand an athlete’s level of mental and physical discipline in order to party all night in Vegas, and yet still be bright, sharp and shiny for the exhibit hall early the next morning. I’ve done it so many years now that the glam has worn off and all that is left is the stench of cigarette smoke and the acrid fumes of empty glasses.
And, this last January, we kicked it up a notch, and a few of my work pals and I celebrated my upcoming nupitals at McFaddens in Rio (Las Vegas, not Brazil). I’ll make only a passing mention of the blowup dolls, penis straws, vibrating keychains, all standard bachelorette fare. I was also up early, clean and sober the next morning, ready to meet and greet. I was also due on a panel discussion later in the afternoon, which we nailed. So I am quite sure I don’t need another round of plastic male genitalia. Read the rest of this entry